Let the Fire Die Chapter 1
Courtney gazed herself in the mirror, hardly recognizing herself. She'd changed so much since that one summer. She had not only grown out her hair, but colored to a blonde color, that although looked different on her, looked good with her dark complexion. After leaving Total Drama Island and getting no letters, no calls, nothing, she'd stopped eating a lot too, which made me thinner than she used to be. And then there was the pesky little diamond ring on her ring finger.
What have I gotten myself into? She thought to herself while looking in the mirror.
"Courtney? Darling?" She heard a male voice from downstairs call. Great, now he was home.
"I'm in the bedroom; I'll meet you down stairs in a few moments." I answered, remembering that we had to go to some fancy little restaurant tonight to support Drew's publicity.
Drew. He was gorgeous, in a simple word. Though he wasn't for me. My family wanted me to marry him, his entire family had money, and he was over popular around the state. However, he was more concerned about money and growing in popularity than to think about love; so of course he though we were head over heels for each other. Obviously he'd never had a true love like I'd had with- No, I mustn't think of him now. But of course, I could already picture his piercings, his Mohawk with the green in the middle, though by now, I knew he had to have just jet black hair. And of course, his baby blues. They were the most amazing thing about him, because he when he was too shy to say a feeling aloud, his eyes conveyed every word that was choked up in his throat.
After the horrible, yet tolerable because he was there time I'd had at Camp Wawanakwa, he'd finally come back to Playa Des Losers, and that very same night, we both lost our last shreds of virginity. Though of course, my family and Drew knew no word of this. No one I associated with now did. Only him, Bridgette, Gwen, Trent, DJ, and I was sure Geoff knew, though he'd never actually said anything about it.
"Honey? Are you okay?" Drew asked, from his standing position in the doorway. How long had he been there?
"Oh, yes." I answered, not telling him of course how badly I actually felt. He knew nothing that I actually felt.
"Okay…It's just your mother said you'd been acting funny at lunch…and she wanted me to make sure everything was okay." He answered, looking down at the ground, and blushing slightly, he was never one for showing concern. Ever.
"I'm fine." I answered, once more, grabbing his hand just like always, and smiling while walking down the stairs as usual. Sealing my fate just like I always had. Just like I probably always would. I couldn't stand up for Duncan then, and now I couldn't even stand up for myself. I was losing my soul in this disgusting greedy place we all call New York City; and it was killing me.
I stared out onto the river, I was finally home. Due to less people signing up for the army, and my father's desire for me to be straightened out, I'd been in Iraq for nearly six years. Almost half the amount of years she'd been out of my life. And soon as I got home, my father would have to up and die, wouldn't he? And of course, he'd leave nearly all his assets to his once bad now reformed home from the war son wouldn't he? That's what had lead me here, to Alabama. My home town; Wild Herr, Alabama, population; seventy nine, eighty once the Cross baby was born next month. So, here I was sun glittering onto the horizon, a pitcher of sweet iced tea on the table beside me.
As the warmth of the sun was fading, I couldn't stop thinking of her. Of how her mocha hair shone when the sunlight hit it just right, and how when she allowed it to curl, and the light glowed behind her, it looked as though she were wearing a halo. I was thinking of how competitive she always was, and how when she wanted something she'd give her all until she had it. I thought of her eyes and how they always shone with intelligence and passion. She was truly unlike anyone else I'd ever met. She had everything that it took to touch my soul, intelligence, passion, the kind of sense of humor you could instantly tell about, everything and more. She was the only girl who had ever been able to touch my heart like that.
Of course, we both knew we lived too far away, and the odds were all against us, and her parents were too, naturally. But I still thought that somehow it would work out, so for three years I'd written her, everyday for three years. Telling her my every thought, right up until the last letter, where I truly knew it was over, and she had moved on. Then I'd just told her how much I loved her, and how I always would, and I simply left it at that, hoping that one day in the future I'd be able to see her, just once. Even if I didn't get to talk to her, seeing just one more time would be enough. I'd thought, though by now, I knew of course that couldn't be true. Because I'd seen her, in the paper not even two weeks ago, with her new fiancée. It had nearly broken my heart in two.
I remembered the day I'd come home to find no one waiting for me. I'd been so sad, though I'd known that no one would be there. I'd still looked at every happy couple and sighed and felt that slight tug at the pit of my stomach, meaning I was jealous. After getting off the boat, I walked into a bathroom, and looked into the mirror. My hair, which had been buzzed off for my entirety of being in the war, was finally growing out, and its black hue made my white skin look sallow and sickly in the bathroom light. My eyes looked saddened and as if they'd never be happy again. And I remembered thinking I doubted I would be.
Then I walked out onto the street, once again trying to find Courtney in every girl I saw, though of course, I never would. Because she was my first, and only love.