"It's worthy enough to make headlines."

Courtney rolled her eyes and refused to insert any input on the matter. He was doing this to get a reaction out of her; it was not going to work. He never even had any interest in situations like this, thinking that it was ridiculous and pathetic. Also, he did not like to make conversations with her unless it involved anything student body-related.

She pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear as she filled out the activity forms.

"Many placed bets on how long they will last, too."

As if she had any particular interest in other people's affairs. She already had her problems to take care of. She did not want to hear about how long a certain couple has been in a relationship.

"It looks like I'm winning 50 dollars from a bet I made with Cody — "

"Noah!" she snapped. "Could you please shut up?! I am trying to fill out these forms!"

It was like she could feel his smug smirk form. "Relax," he assured her, putting aside the budget breakdown paper he just completed. "Like I am actually intrigued about the duration of Duncan and Heather's relationship. One month, I might add."

Her hand clenched around the ballpoint pen. "You make it seem as if I am deterred by that rumor. Just to clear any misunderstandings between us, I am not. Now could you please focus on the matter at hand? It's bad enough our secretary got caught with the flu; our treasurer's at another club meeting; and our dedicated P.R.O. is out making out with his girlfriend in the janitor's closet!" she ended with a heave.

Noah gave her a blank stare. "Simmer down, Drama Queen. As if Zoey and Geoff cooperate."

"Zoey does help out. Whenever she's free from Indie Film Studies and The Bertles Appreciation Club, she comes by and helps me calculate our profits from fundraisers. She also attends every single financial board meeting with the other treasurers. If we're talking about uncooperative officers, Geoff wins that superlative." She let out a deep sigh. "'Party Animal' wasn't enough for him, I guess."

Her vice-president nodded in agreement. "True — about Geoff. But who's filling out the budget breakdown forms here?"

"Just fill them out, Noah. You can't expect me to do everything."

"You always do anyways. Oh, and newsflash: it wasn't a rumor. Sierra babbled about it to me this morning. I shouldn't hang out with Cody anymore if it involves having that loquacious psychopath within my presence."

Courtney knew why Noah never failed to mention anything regarding Duncan and Heather. He was under the assumption that their incomprehensible relationship — anything that involved Duncan actually — bothered her.

Two months was enough to wash away any feelings whatsoever for Duncan. Hell, two minutes after the breakup was enough, too.

Noah headed towards the door but stopped once he saw Duncan leaning against the threshold.

Perfect. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Ugh, Courtney thought irritably.

"Oh, are you here to offer fundraising ideas?" he asked with a bit of mock in his tone.

Duncan gave him a lazy glance. "No. I'm here to get prom tickets," he said.

"'Get,' huh?" With his head, he gestured over to Courtney who was mentally screaming at Noah to handle the delinquent's demands. "Since our treasurer's not here — what a shocker there — Courtney's handling prom tickets, so the queen awaits your presence."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "Queen," he scoffed.

Courtney resisted the strong urge to slam the stack of files on the table. "Noah," she attempted to say casually, "I'm a little bit busy here, so why don't you — "

"Can't, sorry." He tapped the watch around his wrist. "Lunch is ending in twenty-five minutes, and that's not enough to eat and gain some sanity. Cater to the lowlife's needs, would'ja, Pres?" Without another glance, he left.

I hope Sierra poisons your day, Courtney thought darkly.

Stepping into the room, Duncan appraised his surroundings, hands in pockets.

"So, the tickets," he announced without a gaze her way. "Can I have 'em now so I can get on with my life?"

She took a deep breath to compose herself. "Do you have your money prepared?" she asked.

"Nah, I figured I'd do a little I.O.U. if ya don't mind." He began looking at the calendar filled with student body events indifferently.

"Unfortunately, we don't have that type of offer."

"I'm in a little bit of a rut, darling. Heather wants the tickets today, and I don't got the money right now."

"That doesn't concern me. Either you have the money or you don't. Besides, prom's three weeks away, and there is still a good amount of tickets." You freakin' jerk, you think I would actually give you special treatment. "Would you like to reserve some tickets?"

He spun the tiny globe placed on top of the file drawer and finally looked at her. Not through the eyes. Never through the eyes. "Yeah, sure. Is there a deadline to it?"

She was surprised nothing insulting traveled out of his mouth yet. He was actually being polite. It caused her to be suspicious.

"Deadline's a week before prom," she informed him. She took out the paper containing the prom ticket numbers, checkmarked two numbers, and labeled them as RESERVED. "There. It's reserved. The numbers of your tickets are 23 and 24. The cost is $65."

"It's the couple's ticket, yeah?"

She resisted the urge to sigh. Be patient with the idiots, Courtney. "Yes, it's the couple's ticket."

She noticed that he was right in front of her with the table between them. He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table and supposedly looked over the papers on the desk.

The ambience of the room was beginning to prod at her. She didn't like being alone with him, because there was always an air of uneasiness surrounding them. And of course, he would mention something incredibly offensive to her and an altercation would break out.

"Is that all, Duncan?" Courtney asked, her tone indicating that he should leave already.

Slowly, he looked back up at her. The intensity of his teal eyes never failed to leave her in slight awe.

And bluntly — "You got a date for prom?"

As soon as he asked that, all politeness was flung out the window. The audacity of this … "I believe that isn't any of your business," she replied with a bit of acridity.

"Huh, so you don't. 'Course not." He pushed himself off the table and proceeded to depart.

Ire bubbled within her. She knew he was eventually going to say something that would rile her up, but she didn't learn. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Before he disappeared behind the threshold, Duncan turned and smirked.

"You know what I mean, sweetheart."

She hated him, and she tried to hate him more. But even her desperation to hate him couldn't cover up the pain.


"I love The Drama Brothers!" Nancy, SBA secretary, squealed. "For sure, many girls are willing to go. I mean, who wouldn't want a reason to doll themselves up for a band of hotties?" She fanned herself dramatically with her hand.

"Okay, I know that I am a complete indie groupie, but even I agree that they're pretty popular locally-wise," Zoey inputted. She tore out the receipt from the perforated edges and handed it to Geoff.

Noah rolled his eyes behind his book. "Because your propaganda posters totally convey that you're pro for pop boy bands," he muttered sarcastically.

Zoey held up a finger defensively. "For the record, it was against a specific boy band, The Only Street. I mean, seriously? Why couldn't they even come up with a different band name? They should obviously be called One-Track Minds."

Nancy cast a dirty look her way.

An impressed look flitted briefly over Noah's face.

Geoff shoved the receipt and the ticket inside his wallet. "Nah, Zoey's right, dude — uh, 'bout The Drama Brothers being popular," he said. He shifted his attention to Zoey. "How come you hate 'em? I dunno, they're pretty okay to me. I like that one song that goes — "

Noah let out a snicker, flipping to another page. "Don't let your buddies hear that."

"Can we get back to the main point of our meeting, please?" Courtney snapped. She grabbed the cash box from Zoey, who was taking much too long placing the money inside, and placed it in their safe. "They can perform. Question is, are they willing to perform? I hear they became … quite the divas as soon as they're popularity skyrocketed."

"And congratulations, Courtney wins the title for 'Understatement of the Year'. Cody wouldn't shut up about some agent calling him up to discuss about instant stardom for his band," Noah announced disgustedly. "He immediately told his bandmates, and guess what? They all got infected with Justin's ego, and Justin's ego reached to even higher limits. Someone, find me a bucket — I'm ready to purge at the ridiculousness of it all."

Geoff burst out laughing. "Holy shit! Can't believe they all fell for it! They still don't know that the agent was Duncan?" He wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eye with fingers.

Nancy scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, that's rude! Doing that could potentially cause a break up! Think of all the other boy bands! Let's see — R&K, Forty — "

At the mention of his name and the ongoing idiocy, Courtney slammed her hand on the table. "We are straying away from the topic yet again, people! Zoey, can you get them to perform?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I can try. But hearing about them becoming prima donnas … uh, I'm not so sure. I might create more propaganda posters. I'll ask Mike to help me, too … "

"Fine, shut up. I'll do it," Noah volunteered in a dull tone. "I'll just say that the agent will be there."

Geoff leaned forward, excitement screaming on his face. "Dude, do that! That'll be hilarious!"

Nancy threw her hands up in the air and resumed writing down the minutes of the meeting. "You guys are haters, I swear! They could have the possibility of reaching stardom and hitting billboards. If that happened, you could say that you went to school with them and that you're friends with them, which could result in you gaining a bit of fame," she said, shaking her head in disappointment.

Courtney took out her PDA, attempting to control herself from screaming at them. There was only so much she could do to refrain herself from biting their heads off. She wrote down what occurred in the meeting and to clarify that Noah will actually go through with his task.

She hoped prom would prove to be a success. They all worked hard, and it served to be a highlight of senior year. She didn't want to disappoint, and she'd be damned if anyone stood in the way of it.


Once Courtney slammed her locker close, Scott appeared behind, leaning against the locker adjacent to hers. He had a smirk planted on and stared her down.

"Yes, how may I help you?" she questioned him irritably.

He chuckled a bit. "Looks like you don't know seeing as how you're not yellin' yer ass off at me," he said.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want? I've got things to do."

"I've been selling prom tickets."

Her eyebrows furrowed. Other than Duncan, Scott was a notorious criminal that recently transferred. Clearly, what was going to escape his mouth wasn't going to be pleasing to her ears.

"And how exactly have you been doing that? Are you helping out one of the officers?"

His smirk broadened. "Do you really believe that?" He took out a couple of tickets out of his unwashed-looking jeans and held them out. "Managed to get carbon copies of yours, and ever since I've been scammin' suckers."

Courtney gasped in outrage. "How dare you?! Why are you doing this, you criminal?! We need that money!" She glared heavily at him. "You will answer to the admin about this for infringement on — "

Scott held up his hand to stop her. "I'll stop selling if you do a lil' somethin' for me in return."

This isn't going to be good. "And what would that be, exactly?"

"Be my prom date."

"Wha — ? No!"

He sighed, shoving the prom tickets in his pocket. "Guess you're gonna continue losin' money then."

"I am not going to be your date or anybody else's for that matter! I am going to be incredibly occupied during the event; I will not have any time to entertain you, cretin. Now, hand me your counterfeit tickets as well as the profits you gained from them. You are to return the money to the people you ripped off immediately."

"Oooh, so demanding. I like it." He winked at her.

On so many levels, he could've reminded her of Duncan — his shameless flirtations, constant criminal acts, bullyings, and disrespect towards the staff and administration. She would have even felt that thrill of having someone challenge her beliefs and personality, but it wasn't there. He was like Duncan, and another version of him wasn't something she wanted to deal with. She had to deal with the real criminal every single day of her life, directly and indirectly.

Courtney decided to settle this calmly and rationally. "Scott, look," she began. "You're a year younger than me, and don't you dare say that you like older women because that's predictable."

He raised an eyebrow at that, looking like he was about to say that. "Tch, what makes you say that?"

He would. "Just an accurate hunch. Anyways, we wouldn't be able to interact as much. So why don't you do me a favor and don't make this any difficult than it has to be and give me the tickets plus the money." And to win him over even more, she hesitantly added, "Please?"

Scott sighed. He willingly handed her the crumpled tickets. "I'll handle the money," he muttered grudgingly. His eyes refused to look anywhere near hers.

Surprise flew throughout her. She didn't think it was going to be that easy. She thought she was going to fight tooth and nail for them, which she wouldn't hesitate on doing.

"O-Oh, um," she stammered, grabbing the tickets, "thank you. Are you being sincere?"

He nodded. He snuck a glance at her, and she noticed the nervousness in his blue eyes. His cheeks were flushed pink, as well. "I'm also … sincere about … taking you to prom. I, uh, kinda like you. You're really pretty."

Her surprise grew tenfold. This was highly unexpected. She rubbed her right arm with her hand. She didn't know how to handle situations like this. "Oh. Um … thank you again. I, uh, am flattered to hear that, but like I said — "

"How disgustingly adorable," a feminine voice sneered next to them.

Courtney whipped her head towards the source and saw Heather and, oh yay, Duncan behind her. His eyes were typically lazy and blank. He gave the two one glance before placing his attention to the posters scattered all over the walls.

Heather held out her designer brand wallet. "Oh, don't mind us. Continue on, Courtney. Don't wanna spoil the romance here, right?" she said with faux sweetness.

Bitch, Courtney thought irritably.

Scott glared at her before smirking. "Enjoyed the present I gave you in your locker?"

Quickly, Heather's face morphed into rage. "You little dick, you're lucky I saw the glue in my bra before I put it on or else I would've — !"

"Yeah, yeah. You're just mad that it was that clever."

Duncan snorted. "Child's play, dude," he commented.

The orange-haired teenager glared at his fellow criminal. "Says the guy who's getting rusty. Don't see you fucking this school up ever since you hooked up with this nasty bitch."

Heather burned holes into his skull, clutching her wallet hard her nails were leaving prints on it.

Duncan looked like he was ready to tear the guy apart, so Courtney intervened. "Okay! Heather, follow me." She turned to Scott. "You can go now, Scott. Thanks for giving up the tickets."

He broke off the glare-off he was having with the couple and nodded. He flicked them off before leaving.

"You and your boyfriend are just so — ," Heather started saying with her bitchy tone.

"Shut it, Heather. You came to pay for the tickets, right? So, follow me." Courtney rolled her eyes and began leading the way.

At the office, Courtney found the two reserved tickets and handed them to Heather's awaiting hand. Heather grabbed them quite rudely and placed the money on the table. After that, she immediately left, heels clacking here and there.

Courtney deposited the money in the cash box. She initialed beside their reserved tickets and wrote the date down, also jotting down that they paid. She failed to notice Duncan was still there.

"Are you serious, Courtney?" he asked all of a sudden.

She snapped her head up. His face was incredulous and slightly furious.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He shook his head at her before leaving without answering her. It was like every time he left the student body office she got pissed off even more.


Facing her full-length mirror, Courtney smoothed down her dress. Her hair was up in a simple chignon, two lightly curled strands framing her face. Her dress was silver, strapless, and stopped a few inches above her knees, a large bow wrapped around. It hugged her bodice quite snugly with the bottom half loose around her thighs. She had matching 3-inch silver strapped heels. A studded necklace encompassed her neck, and a companion bracelet donned her right wrist.

Content, she turned away from her reflection and checked the time on her digital alarm clock. She had two and a half hours to spare until prom would start, so she had to leave already to make sure the officers were there or heading there, the decorations were intact; the menu was set; the ticket table was placed in front of the ballroom entrance; the performers were practicing in a reserved ballroom; crowns for Prom Queen and King were with Geoff; so on and so forth.

She knew she was only dressed for occasion. She was not participating in any of the activities unlike the years before. She was not going to dance or chat with anybody. Of course she was going to eat, but that would be her only break. She was definitely going to make sure everything was going accordingly.

She grabbed her PDA and dialed Geoff's number.

"Hey Courtney!" Geoff greeted after the fourth ring. "I got the crow — "

"Are they in perfect condition?" she interrupted hastily. She threw another glance at the time. She needed to leave already.

"Yup, all bubble-wrapped to maintain royalty. Dude, Courtney, I'm freakin' stoked to find out — "

"I don't have time for casual conversations, Geoff. Are you heading to the hotel already?"

She heard ruckus and cursings on the other line. "I think it's backwards, brah. Yeah, I think you — awww, dude! That actually looks pretty cool — !"

Courtney snapped impatiently, "Geoff! You better be heading there right. This. Instant!" She snatched her car keys and clutch and headed out her bedroom door.

"Chiiiill, Court, chiiiill. I'm just putting on my tux — "

"Are you freakin' kidding me?!" She bounded down the stairs hastily yet gingerly. She did not want to sprain her ankle on this very important day.

"Nope, I'm not. Listen, I gotta hang up now, but I'll see ya soon, 'kay? I might arrive a few minutes after it starts, 'cause I gotta pick up the lady." A burst of laughter traveled through her phone. "Ha! Hey, can you help me button my cuff links? Oh! Sorry, Court. Shoots!"

"But, Geoff — !" Click. She gasped and stared at her PDA with disbelief. "I can't believe I spent all these months tolerating your unorganized actions!"

She shoved her phone in her clutch and placed her prepared note for her parents on the kitchen counter. She paused for a few seconds to collect her thoughts and see if she was forgetting anything. Then, she exited her house and went to her car.


"Courtney, Courtney!" she heard a feminine voice calling her.

Turning her head away from Noah, Courtney saw Geoff's girlfriend Bridgette waving her over. Her hair was styled into beach waves with two plaits pulled to the back of her head. She donned a simple aquamarine off-the-shoulder dress and white pumps.

The only reason why Courtney tolerated Geoff was because of Bridgette. She was well-liked among her peers, and Courtney couldn't disagree, which spoke volumes. It was difficult for Courtney to truly like someone because trust didn't come easily to her. However, Bridgette had enough patience to deal with someone like Courtney, and that, in itself, was good enough for her. They weren't "friends," but they were civil to each other.

Reluctantly, Courtney approached Bridgette and her ungrateful P.R.O. She whipped her head towards Noah who was eyeing the red cup with suspicion.

"Why do I have this ominous feeling that Duncan spiked the juice?" Noah asked, sloshing the cup.

"Why do you always have this incessant need to mention his name in almost every conversation we have?" Courtney complained. It was bad enough she had to see him here, date-less and flirtatious.

Noah placed the drink on the table. "It's not a need; it's a motive."

Motive? "And what would that — ?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Pookie are waiting for you."

Courtney glared at him before heading their way; however, she immediately stopped her tracks.

It was like some type of summoning ritual. Every time someone uttered his name, he would somehow appear out of nowhere and be wherever she was at or heading towards.

Duncan was chatting with the blonde couple casually, holding one of the red cups he allegedly spiked. Geoff's arm was wrapped around Bridgette's waist, and he was laughing at something Duncan was saying. Bridgette was shaking her head at them, an amused smile playing on her pretty face.

Almost as if she sensed her glance, Bridgette's eyes traveled over to Courtney. She waved her over again. That action caused Geoff and Duncan to look at her.

Damn. It, she cursed inwardly.

It was like she was moving towards her humiliation. With every step she took, the music lowered, her heartbeat overpowering the pop song playing. She could almost hear her heels clacking.

Every time Duncan was within radar, he'd make a huge mess out of her. Her mind should be focused on prom and getting tasks done, but he never failed to loosen, spin, and tangle her up. She got used to it because it gave her a good kind of rush, but now it only served to rile her up mentally and emotionally. She should hate him, but it was hard.

It always was.

"Hi, Courtney!" Bridgette greeted. "You look absolutely stunning! Doesn't she, Geoff?"

Geoff nodded in agreement. "I know I didn't tell you earlier, but you were yelling at me."

Courtney promptly ignored the teal-eyed delinquent, who was, in turn, ignoring her as well. He took a sip out of his cup and was staring off somewhere disinterestedly.

"Thank you, Bridgette," she replied. "You clean up well, too. Was there something you needed? Announcements for Prom King and Queen are in about fifteen minutes, which you should be preparing for already Geoff considering how you are the main emcee." She sent him a glare.

"Don't worry, Court. I got this. Just spending this beautiful night with my shnookums." Geoff smiled tenderly at her and gave her an Eskimo kiss, which she gladly returned.

Courtney couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and disgusted. Bridgette and Geoff were known for their simultaneous "skip-outs," and whenever they came back, their lips were flaming red, hair tousled, and eyes wide with after-sex effects. But, of course, no one mustn't forget their horrid overly-sweet gestures and nicknames.

She cleared her throat, and Bridgette stopped the "lovey-dovey" scene. She let out a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Courtney."

"Just tell me why you called me over," she said, impatient.

"Pictures! I wanted to have a picture with me and you and the three of us!"

Geoff whipped out his camera from nowhere and positioned himself to look like a professional photographer.

Bridgette locked arms with Courtney. The action shocked her, but she eventually relaxed and turned towards the camera, smiling as best as she could. From her peripheral vision, she could see Duncan watching them and ignored him again — with difficulty.

"Oh yeah, those are some gorgeous smiles. One, two, three, say 'FUCK YEAH'!" Geoff exclaimed.

Bridgette scolded him, "Geoff!"

"Kidding! One, two three — " click, flash! Geoff stood up and looked at the camera and nodded in approval. "Beautiful smiles, ladies."

"Okay, Geoff, join in!" his girlfriend said, grinning widely.

Geoff was about to hand the camera to Duncan but stopped. "Whoa, wait. Duncan, dude, come in the picture with us," he offered.

Duncan raised an eyebrow at that. "Uh, yeah. Sure," he said, putting his cup on the nearby table.

Courtney noticed Bridgette was staring at her before she called over Harold to take their picture. Geoff positioned himself next to Bridgette and wound his arm around her waist. Duncan walked towards Courtney and stood next to her.

A few inches away from physical contact. She could practically feel his warmth evaporating off his blazer.

Harold placed the camera at chin-level. "Aw, cool, Geoff! You got the camera that has the 24.5 mega — !" he began geeking out.

"Doris, hurry the hell up," Duncan ordered.

At that, Harold quickly shut up and turned red. He glared at Duncan once before resuming his position.

"One, two — wait a minute. There's this weird gap between Courtney and Duncan. Can you guys move a little closer? Just for precautions, 'cause I heard there's this superstition — "

"Harold!" Courtney said angrily. She just wanted to leave already. "Take the damn picture!"

"Nah, nah, Harold's right," Geoff interjected. He looked at the ex-couple. "Even from where I'm standing, I see it. It's not gonna be a good pic., dudes. Stand a little closer."

Bridgette whispered frantically, "Geoff, I don't think that's a good idea."

"What? Why?"

Duncan sighed. "Fine," he said. And, without her permission, he trespassed her personal space and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Courtney tried her best not to gasp at the sudden contact and his forwardness. She snuck a glance at him, but he was staring straight ahead. She felt his large hand stroke her waist just a little bit. She wasn't sure if that act was unconscious or not.

"Perfect! Okay, one, two, three, say 'Archimonde'!" Harold shouted. And then click, flash! "Looks pretty good if I do say so myself."

He walked over to them and showed the picture to Geoff and Bridgette.

Courtney was ready to say goodbye, but Duncan was still holding onto her waist. He leaned around her — she caught a whiff of his usual scent — and checked the picture, as well.

"That is a really nice picture," Geoff commented.

Bridgette smiled gently. "Thanks, Harold. I think it's the best after ours, Pookie!" She nuzzled her face into his neck.

And that was her cue to go. "All right, I'm going to tend to my duties now. Geoff, make sure you — " his damn arm " — head towards the stage in five minutes."

At last, Duncan unwrapped his arm around her waist. Courtney stayed rooted at her spot for a while to regain her senses. She resisted the powerful urge to look at him again before walking towards the ticket table.

She swore she could feel his eyes on her as she walked away.

Courtney wondered why Heather wasn't with Duncan. The she-devil bought the couple's ticket, and so Courtne assumed it was for her and Duncan.

Perhaps they had a fight. Oh, why do I care? All I need to worry about is prom, not juvenile delinquents and self-absorbed bitches.

Everything was smooth sailing until drama with The Drama Brothers ensued.

Apparently all the boys wanted to be lead singer. The fame really got to their heads, and so instead of practicing in the ballroom, the idiots ended up fighting the entire duration. The heated altercation also ended up with them resorting to physical violence using their instruments.

When it came time for them to perform, many people left. According to Nancy, majority of the students came just to watch The Drama Brothers perform.

Maxed out of energy and ideas, Courtney sat at the ticket table and watched singles and couples leave the ballroom.

Courtney and her officers worked incredibly hard just to get them to play. They even had a raffle after the performances. Also, Courtney hired a professional photographer to take a formal picture of all the seniors and underclassmen present. It would be distributed during the seniors' last day of school.

"Geoff's hosting an after party in his hotel room. Want to be heathens for the night?" Noah suggested, standing next to her.

Courtney and the officers, as well as other volunteers — which were non-existent — were supposed to stay back and clean up. It was just her, Noah, and unidentifiable objects scattered all over the ballroom floor.

"Sure," she said, exhausted. "We deserve it."

"Wow. You actually agreed. Say it again — I need to get in recording and send it to a news network so that it could be broadcast to the world."

She glared at him. "Shut up and let's go. What room is he in?"

Standing in front of his hotel room, Courtney began feeling hesitation. Dubstep was muffled behind the door. Geoff rented the penthouse courtesy of his parents. She was surprised the hotel staff wasn't here to kick them out, but perhaps Geoff bribed or invited them. He was well-known for his parties. It was rumored that Project X was inspired by his parties.

Which Courtney doubted.

Noah sighed at Courtney's stiff posture. He reached around her and opened the door.

The duo was welcomed by deafening music. The sliding doors were opened, so a sudden burst of wind flew toward their faces. The wind brought in the putrid smell of alcohol, sweat, and marijuana to Courtney's nose, making her wrinkle it.

Courtney was about to object to the entirety of the situation when Geoff appeared from the bathroom, holding — surprise, surprise — a red cup. Oh, whatever did that red cup have inside?

"Noah! Courtney! Hey! Welcome to my partay!" Geoff exclaimed boisterously, holding up both arms in the air. Alcohol sloshed out of the cup, staining the carpet and splashing on the wall. "All of my fellow officers are here, hell yeah! Come inside, get high, wasted, horny — whatever your body tells ya to do! WHOO!"

With a raised eyebrow, Courtney watched Geoff run down the hallway and then disappearing into the crowd of grinding teenagers.

She turned toward Noah. "Noah, I think — ," she began but was cut off by him shoving a red cup in her hand.

Noah raised it up and drank. He grimaced afterwards. "Ugh, I prefer red wine. Beer's not meant to be savourable apparently," he commented, taking another sip.

Courtney stared at the contents of the cup. Let go, Courtney. Just for tonight. She downed the beer in one shot and resisted the urge to spit it out.

"Disgusting! How could anybody even — ?"

Magically, Noah had another red cup. "Just keep drinking and let your taste buds throw your inhibitions away, woman."

She did just that.

In a drunken stupor, Courtney stumbled around the hotel room. A sober Noah was behind her every step of the way, highly amused by her ridiculous slurs and highly irritated by her incessant babbling.

"I thought you'd be an amusing drunk, but your inebriated self is a thousand times more annoying and loquacious," Noah said, shaking his head. "Your low tolerance for alcohol is disappointing, as well. I'm waiting for you to strip off your dress, climb the counters, and dance provocatively. Much to my dismay, that isn't transpiring. Thanks a lot, Courtney."

"Noah," Courtney whined, "why — why are you shorter than me? It doesn't make any sense."

"It makes a lot of sense. Your drunken state is stuck in the mentality of the norm. Perhaps your normal state, which is ironically not even normal, is much more accepting of my stature."

All of a sudden, Noah shoved Courtney into the kitchen. There were beer pong tournaments scattered around. The action made Courtney dizzy and she held onto the shorter man for balance.

"So many balls," she slurred.

"Yes, the testosterone is stifling." He smirked quite evilly. "But a certain set of testosterone can perhaps quell this mess you're in."

Courtney invaded his space by sticking her cheek to his. "That you put me in, No-No."

"Ugh, stop."


Duncan yelled out a victorious roar when he made another successful shot. His opponent swore out loud and drank another cup reluctantly.

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "I am on a roll!"

A round of whistles and catcalls came suddenly. Duncan turned around, sipping from his cup, to see what the guys were making a commotion about.

Courtney was swaying on her heels obviously drunk. Her hair was down, loose curls splayed around her shoulders. She was looking at him with groggy eyes.

"The president finally let loose!" one of the guys said.

"'Bout time, right? I'm so proud," Geoff said, fake sniffling.

All of a sudden, Courtney was next to him, stumbling. Out of reflex, Duncan wrapped his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling.

Grinning, Courtney whispered in his ear, "Hi Duncan."

Duncan grunted from holding her. "Who got you drunk, Courtney?" he asked.

"Noah, the short man."

Noah? That pompous asshole managed to get her to have a drink? Damn, props to the little man, he thought, partially impressed. The feeling didn't last, though, and he frowned. Something must've happened. Better not be her fuckin' parents again.

"Ooh, is that for me?" She attempted to grab the cup he was still holding.

He held it out of reach. "Whoa there, darling. I think you're done for the night. You're gonna regret it in the morning, trust me."

"Yeah, but you never think, Dunc, so I'm not gonna listen to you. Ever!" She didn't reach for the cup, though. Duncan knew the alcohol was settling in her system, and the exhaustion was taking its place.

"Even when you're drunk, huh?" he muttered. He placed the cup away and adjusted his hold on her.

"Ahhh, Duncan bro! What about Heather?" some random guy hollered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Gettin' some with your leftovers?"

"Finally done with that bitch," Duncan yelled over the music as he hauled Courtney out.

He spotted Noah sitting on the couch, reading a magazine. Duncan took a seat, which made Courtney sprawl over his lap. Without his help, she fixed herself so that she was straddling him. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

Shit. Duncan tried to fix her up since her dress rode up. He could see her smooth thighs, and her breasts were up against his chest. Shit, damn it.

"May I not help you?" Noah questioned, eyes on the magazine.

"Asshole, bring her home," Duncan said casually.

"She has a hotel room."

"Asshole, bring her to her hotel room."

"Sure, since you asked so nicely," Noah agreed sarcastically.

Duncan blew out a breath when he felt Courtney slipping into sleep. Her face was buried in his neck, and he felt her warm lips on it.

He let out a growl, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and aroused. He brought his face away from cheek and her fragrant hair. "Damn it, Noah! You did this to her; you fuckin' take her home!" he hissed.

"Her room number's 204. Goodbye."

The brunette wouldn't budge, so Duncan had to do this on his own. He grabbed the magazine and smacked it against his face before getting up. He had a bit of trouble since Courtney was practically wrapped around his front. He adjusted her until she was being held bridal style.

Duncan managed to get out of the crowd and exited the room. He went to the elevator. As soon as they were inside, he set Courtney down and made her lean against him.

"Fuck The Drama Brothers," she murmured suddenly.

"Hell yeah, fuck those boy band wannabes. They were supposed to perform tonight, right? Glad they didn't."

Her voice turned small. "They ruined e — " she hiccuped " — e-everything."

Hearing her voice sound like that just made him hate them even more.

Silently, Duncan headed toward her hotel room with her in tow. At least he got her after all the crazy parts of being drunk.

"Courtney, where's your room card?"

She giggled. "In my bra," she joked.

"That's gotta hurt. You all right with me getting it from in there? Is there even space?"

"Perv. Here." She dug into the bow that was wrapped around her dress and retrieved the card. "Didn't want a bag. D-Didn't wanna hold anything. Phone fit, cool."

Yeah, she needs to sleep now. He inserted the card and brought them inside.

Unceremoniously, Duncan dumped her on the bed. She bounced a bit on her stomach before immediately settling in the comfort of the bed. He took off her heels and winced when he saw the red lines around her feet.

He was about to cover her with a blanket when she whispered, "Why aren't you being mean to me?"

Duncan closed his eyes, sighing. "Because I'm an asshole, sweetheart," he replied. "Because it's how … I am. You know already how I am."

"I do, but look at you — look at you now … You're nice … "

He pulled the covers up until it covered her shoulders. "I'm not. You know that."

"You're an impossible idiot."

He chuckled. "That I am." Unable to help himself, he stroked her cheek. "You look gorgeous, you know. Wanted to kiss the fuck out of you when I saw you. I hate how it's so hard to get over you with you acting all Courtney and being all gorgeous."

Courtney opened her eyes a bit, sleepiness clouding them. "'M drunk. You're lying."

"Not now."

"Sleep … here … "

"I wish I could, Princess, but then we'd regret it and you're gonna be some hotshot lawyer. Damn, I'm glad you won't remember any of this."

Courtney woke up, head pounding crazy. She didn't remember anything besides Noah coaxing her to drink. She asked him what happened last night, but all she got was a knowing smirk from him.

Duncan was even more icy towards her. Courtney hoped she at least stepped on him with her heels or purposely kneed him in the groin that night.

"Yeah, you sure needed him," Noah said, snickering.


Miss O'Halloran, or "Blaineley" (she preferred to be called by her "first" name because it made her feel young), was their school's guidance counselor. Courtney didn't particularly like her because she was known to be a huge gossiper. Apparently she used to be a talk show host but was fired due to "reasons."

Much to Courtney's dismay, Blaineley was in charge of the SATs. She had no choice but to interact with her.

When she opened the door, she saw Blaineley engrossed on the computer screen, typing quickly on the keyboard. Her head shot up when Courtney closed the door quite loudly. She clicked the mouse button and placed clasped her hands on the desk.

With a forced-looking smile, she greeted, "Hello, Courtney. How may I help you? This better be quick because I have a headache to deal with after you. Any … troubles?"

As if I am going to pour my worries to the likes of you. "Why weren't my SAT scores sent?" Courtney attempted to ask patiently.

She looked miffed at the question as if she didn't like dealing with it. "There was a delay apparently. Some people mixed up the SAT scores with the other schools, so they had to spend some time putting them back to their respective places," Blaineley explained, going back to her computer.

Courtney closed her eyes and breathed out of her mouth slowly. She tried to suppress the incoming slew of anger. "How come we weren't informed of this beforehand? Just recently, I found out that the reason why I didn't receive any acceptance letters from the universities I applied to was because that they, in turn, didn't receive my SAT scores. I'm this close to reaching the deadlines."

She raised a waxed eyebrow. "You're so sure you're going to get accepted, aren't you?" Her tone had something snotty underlying it.

I cannot believe you were hired to be our guidance counselor, you pretentious bitch. "Yes. I am sure. I am perfectly qualified since I meet their criteria. Now, what are we going to do with my SAT scores? Will they receive it before the deadlines?"

Reluctantly, she began typing on the keyboard. "Let me check the email. When's the deadline?"

"I applied to three universities. The 28th of this month and the 1st and 3rd of next month."

"This month and the next month? Oh." She paused, reading the email. "Looks like you have to apply again."

An uneasy feeling began washing over her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. "What does that mean … exactly?" But she didn't want to know the answer.

She sighed, exasperated. "That means the universities you applied to will receive your scores after their deadlines. Sorry." She did not look apologetic.

Courtney didn't want to believe that. There had to be some other way. "No, no, no! This can't happen!" she cried out. "I have to get into at least one of those universities! Can't you speed up the process?"

"Yes, because I have complete control over the process of sending those scores. Courtney, my main job is to make sure those scores aren't lost. Afterwards, I have nothing to do with them."

She gave her a look of disbelief and marched right up to her desk. "No, your main job is to help the students with their problems! Don't you understand?! My plans will be completely ruined if I don't get accepted! I planned to go to university immediately after I get accepted! You need to do something about my scores!"

"It's out of my hands. I can't do anything about it now." Her tone made it seem like it wasn't the end of the world for her, but it was. Her senior year wasn't exactly smooth-sailing, and because of that, she hoped that she would be able to attend university already to escape her hellish high school days and focus on her future.

Why was her life going downhill? What did she do to deserve all of this? All she ever wanted was for her life to go exactly as she planned, but lately … nothing was in her favor. She wanted to be valedictorian or at least salutatorian, but she ranked number three. She wanted to have a memorable school year for everyone especially since it was her senior year, but her officers were being completely unhelpful and nobody was willing to volunteer or participate. She wanted to remain being captain in her tennis and debate teams, but she had to quit tennis (her ultimate stress reliever) and renounce her title for the debate team because she needed to focus on preparing for college and student body association.

She began breathing quick as her problems crashed down onto her.

They didn't gain the expected amount of money for prom because not a lot of people attended due to the fact that they didn't like the location and their favorite band cancelled on their performances. Her officers misplaced important documents that she had fill out again herself. She missed classes because of her student body president duties, which resulted in having to make up assignments, which resulted in sleep deprivation.

She also had to deal with the constant cruelty from Duncan every time he came into contact with her.

"You — There — This can't be happening," Courtney whispered, reaching her breaking point. "This can't be happening. You — You have to do something. I need to get into these universities. My life literally depends on it. I need to go to university straight after. It's what I planned ever since I was a freshman. I need this, Blaineley. Find out a solution for me. I can't — "

Blaineley gave her an it-can't-be-helped type of look. "There's nothing wrong with applying again — " She was immediately cut off. The incoming storm arrived.

"NO!" Courtney yelled, eyes wide with desperation. A rush of emotions hit her like gunfire, and she couldn't control them like she normally could. It was all hell now. Everything was breaking loose.

And now, she was doing something she couldn't bring herself to do.

She was letting herself out.

"Do you understand how much impact this has on my life?! Everything has been incredibly stressful for me, but I kept on going because I knew — I knew — that I was going to my dream university. I was going to major in law, pass my LSATs, and reach my goal in becoming a defense attorney. That is my dream. That is my motivation. I don't have time to wait and apply again. I can't stand the fact that I have to stay at home with nothing to do when I could be concentrating on my future by taking the classes I want and — "

Blaineley stood up from her computer chair. "Courtney, calm down. Lower your voice. You can still get into the university you — "

She couldn't calm down. She couldn't lower her voice. She couldn't get into the university she wanted. She just couldn't. She couldn't do anything anymore.

She continued as if Blaineley wasn't there anymore: " — I sacrifice so much! It isn't fair! Do you know how much I do for my officers?! A lot! I do so much for them; I clean up after their freakin' messes! I deal with their tendencies to be irresponsible, careless, ungrateful, and unhelpful! No thank yous, no 'Oh, let me do that, Courtney' or 'Let me help you out.' None of that! They have their other extra-curricular activities to attend to, and I completely understand that because I, as well, have other extra-curricular activities to attend to. But they don't know or even care. We all may not be friends — " for some reason, her voice broke at the word "friends" " — but I try to be — " She broke off. Her emotions began overwhelming her vulnerability.

Quietly, calmly, she spoke again,"I am not a nice person. I know I am bossy. I know I am a control freak. I just don't understand how they don't see that I try so hard, so damn hard, to be their frie — " She felt the tears poking at her the edges of her eyes. She let them fall. "I know I'm difficult to deal with. That's why I have no one to talk to, which also explains why he broke up with — I mean, it's so hard, and I don't know what to do anymore."

Blaineley's eyes widened once she began sobbing. It wasn't full-on hysterical, but it was something to be concerned about. She looked lost at what to do in this situation.

So much pain. So much weight on her shoulders. How could she continue to carry on? A mountain-load of stress collapsed on her. Her mentality couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't focus. The tears were flooding. She began shaking.

Stop crying, she tried to tell herself. Her body wouldn't permit. She brought her hands up to cover her face. Her entire form was tremoring non-stop.

"I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do," she began chanting to herself. Her knees were about to give way, but she continued standing, displaying her feelings to someone who didn't give a crap.

The door opened all of a sudden. "Okay, Mildred, what do ya wanna — hey, what's going on?"

No. Please not him. No.

With shaky hands, Courtney tried to wipe her tears and fears off her face, failing. The tears continued; the fear was showing. She couldn't hide it anymore, and that fact broke her even more.

"Courtney?" Duncan called softly. His voice was so near, but she couldn't look at him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Blaineley cleared her throat. "Well, apparently — "

His tone was icy, so icy. "I don't wanna hear shit from you. Get out; let me talk to her. Don't say a fuckin' thing to anybody."

Aghast, she exclaimed, "Excuse — ?!"

"I've got tons of shit about you in my front pocket, Mildred. Don't think I won't hesitate to show Sierra pictures of your … pudgy days."

Courtney couldn't see anything, but she heard a horrified gasp, heels clacking hastily, and the door closing.

A sigh. An intake of breath, an outtake of breath. Steps coming forward. Soft, low breathing nearby.

"She's gone, Courtney," Duncan spoke oh so softly. How long had it been since he spoke to her in such a way?

The tears were never-ending. She was still shaking.

"I don't want you here," she said incoherently. "L-L-Leave. You're not needed."

"You're shaking. What happened? What did the bitch do to you?" He placed a gentle hand on her arm. The touch was soothing, unfortunately.

She shook his hand off and took a step back, unknowingly revealing herself. With bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she glared at him with so much rage.

"You don't need to know shit, all right? Now, could you please leave me alone?!"

He wasn't deterred and didn't show signs of backing down.

"Oh, so you want to know how horrible my life's going? I'll be happy to tell — "

"Don't tell me. You're shaking even harder." The calmness in his teal eyes was unnerving. She hadn't seen those type of eyes in the longest time.

"Then please — " A sob broke out, and she hugged herself to control the tremors. "Please leave, Duncan. Let me be. Please. Just do this one thing for me."

"Princess," he whispered before stepping closer to place his hands on her waist. He rubbed her waist up and down with his hands soothingly. "You can let it out."

And she did it again. Her arms fell from its place. Her chin dropped to her chest, and she watched her tears fall onto the carpet and disappear.

She cried for everything. Her barely there parents. Her lack of friends. Her SAT scores. Her workload. Her self-esteem. Her loneliness.

His hands continued rubbing her waist. "It's all right, baby. I'm here, I'm here," he murmured in her ear.

"I can't get accepted into my dream universities. My — My officers don't like me, and I have so much work to do. I have no one to — I can't do this anymore." Even though everything hurt, a tiny bit of warmth began inserting itself within her.

"There are ways. And who gives a shit about those assholes?"

"I don't have anyone, Duncan."

"You've got me — even though I haven't … exactly — " He broke off. "I'm sorry for not being there. I shouldn't be saying anything about your officers being assholes when I haven't been treating you well. I'm sorry, Courtney. I just … "

She didn't respond. She noticed her forehead was resting on his chest. The tears were decreasing, and the tremors disappeared. Her shoulders relaxed.

When Blaineley entered her office, Courtney was sitting on the sofa across her desk, back slumped over. Her hands were on the cushions, shoulders tense. Duncan was kneeling in front of her, hands now rubbing her thighs up and down. She raised an eyebrow at that, but Duncan's withering glare kept her mouth shut.

"Would you like me to contact your parents, Courtney?" Blaineley suggested, tone surprisingly placating.

At that, Courtney's eyes widened, and she started shaking again. "No, please no! I don't want them to be hearing about this. Don't, please!" Oh God, if they heard about this, it wouldn't end well. They would hear about her SAT scores not being sent, and then what would they think?

Duncan snapped at her with hostility, "Don't call them! Motherfuckin' — " He turned his attention back to her. "Don't worry, Princess, she's not gonna call them."

Blaineley sighed, looking like she herself was in pain.

All Courtney could now focus on was Duncan, who was still rubbing her thighs and making sure she wasn't going to fall apart again.


Courtney heedlessly threw her car keys on her desk, dropped her bag onto the floor, and collapsed headfirst on her bed. She tried to focus on the softness and comfiness of the bed, but her mind was still throbbing with the events that recently occurred.

"I can drop you home if you want."

Her shut eyes tightened.

"I know I'm the last person to provide you comfort, but … just know that I'm here, 'kay?"

Eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"Really, Courtney. I'm sorry."

"He can't do this," she mumbled into the sheets. He can't just do this to me.

After the countless times he treated her with disrespect and cruelty, she certainly didn't expect him to change his attitude towards her completely once he saw her expose her vulnerabilities. He was the last person to offer her comfort. He just couldn't do that to her because right now, she was feeling even more conflicted about him.

What went on in his mind as soon as he saw her in that state? What influenced him to throw away the demeanor he had around her presence and turn back into the guy she cared about?

She felt wetness on her face and realized, once again, she was crying. She sighed and lifted herself up with her arms. She sat up and wiped her traitorous tears. Heading to her closet, she picked out an oversized cardigan and slipped it on.

Work. She needed to do work. Having these thoughts clouding her brain wasn't a good idea. She had to focus on the important situation.

She sat down on the computer chair and turned on her laptop. As she waited for it to start, alternative schools popped up into her mind and she wrote them down on some sticky notes.

Informing her parents was completely out of the question. She wouldn't dare imagine what they would say, how their faces would look. She couldn't even approach the thought because she already knew what was going to happen. They held high expectations of her, and she failed to meet them.

The doorbell rang twice. Her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn't expecting any visitors.

Exiting her bedroom, Courtney bounded down the stairs and headed to the front door. She looked through the peephole and immediately stepped away from the door.

What is Duncan doing here? she thought frantically. She already had to deal with him and Blaineley for God's sake seeing her break down. She surely did not want to face him yet again after that little episode.

She took a deep breath and gathered any leftover strength to get her through this. She wrapped her cardigan around her tightly before opening the door.

The first thing she saw were his teal eyes, filled with worry and concern. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie. Behind him, she could see his truck parked at the sidewalk a couple of blocks away.

Nostalgia hit her. When they had dated, she would always tell him to park far away so her parents wouldn't suspect anything since he visited her house a good amount of times.

"Can I come in?" Duncan asked, breaking her reminiscing.

Courtney wrapped her cardigan around her tighter and nodded. She pulled the door open wider for him and stepped back. She smelled his scent when he walked past her and attempted to hold onto her strength, feeling it disappear.

"What are you doing here?" she asked once she closed the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his intense gaze.

"Wanted to check up on you."

"I'm fine."

He didn't reply, but she could tell he was unconvinced. He looked around the house before asking, "Did Blaineley call your parents?"

"No. If she did, they would be here."

He scoffed at that. "Yeah. Sure."

Irritation pricked her. "Is that it? You can leave now. I've got things to do," she said rudely.

He stood up a little straighter. He appraised her up and down, and she hated it when he did that. "Looked in the mirror lately? You look like shit. Your eyes look exhausted," he bluntly stated.

That's what happens when you cry your fucking self out, you idiot. "That's interesting. I'll do something about it. The fact that you came all the way over here just to tell me that proves how much it bothers you."

He shook his head at her, anger glowing on his face. "Cut the crap, Courtney. Just hours ago, you were crying your eyes out and now you're making it seem like nothing happened. You need to talk about it."

"I'm fine. And my well-being isn't any of your damn business now, is it? You don't have the right to tell me what to do in my own freakin' house, Duncan." Till this day, he was the same insufferable jerk.

Duncan took a few steps closer to her. "Never have I once seen you like that. Never. You like hiding your emotions, and it's rare for you to let out a few tears here and there. Shit, Courtney, you look like you were ready to fall apart. I know that you're gonna drown yourself in work and run away from what you're feeling."

"And so what if I do?" she snapped. "It's not affecting me or anyone else around me anyways."

"The fuck it isn't! Doing that will kill you inside. It's good that you let out your tears, but refusing to talk about it won't make it go away. It'll build up on the rest of the problems you're not facing."

"Oh, do you really want to talk about running away from your problems?" She was already entering the territory the both of them wouldn't dare cross — until now, of course. "Because we can talk about how you break up with me with no explanation whatsoever, Duncan!"

He narrowed his eyes at that, and his expression turned hard. He was hesitant to enter, but he had to.

Her eyes stung at the memory of it. It never failed to affect her so much at the mere thought of it every single damn time.

"And now you're quiet," Courtney spat harshly, cursing the tears threatening to fall. "Which means I'm right."

At that, his eyes flashed with steel. He created some distance between them. "Our break-up has nothing to do with this. Quit changing the fuckin' subject," he said defensively.

"Our break-up is the reason why we're even talking like this!" She crossed her arms over her chest to prevent the oncoming trembling.

Duncan turned his head away from her, teeth clenched. "We don't need to talk about it right now."

"You hide your emotions too, Duncan. You're running away." Why has it come to this? "We — We have to talk about it."

His jaw locked. "No. We don't."

Helplessness surged through her. She took a step forward. "Yes," she emphasized, hoping her tone would somehow penetrate his wall, "we do. We're both stubborn and we don't wear our hearts on our sleeves, but … even I can't deny we're the only ones that understand each other because of that. So please, Duncan, help me understand why you broke up with me. You didn't explain yourself to — "

"Do you still care about me?" he interrupted, teal eyes on her.

That silenced her. This day was just all about spilling out everything she wouldn't bring herself to let loose. It exhausted her, and she wanted to cover herself up.

"Just … answer me," she whispered. Her eyes hurt from the tears.

She noticed his eyes weren't as impassive; they softened a little. But she could see the weariness slowly cracking from behind the wall. He removed the distance he created, feet inches apart.

Looking down at her, he said, "Answer me."

She felt that part of her wanting to snap back at him. She felt that part of her that wanted to lock away everything immediately before it was too late. He already knew too much. He didn't need to know more and more. It was useless. He wouldn't need these parts of her. The next day, it would be the same routine again.

"Isn't it obvious?" But the small part of her won.

He let out a deep breath slowly and leaned his forehead on hers, closing his eyes. He didn't answer her.

Courtney always knew that between the two of them Duncan was the most unwilling to show his emotions. Sure she had her issues, but whenever he was pressured by her to do so, he would close himself off within a second. Even for her, it was hard to get through to him. Of course he would eventually open himself up but only a fraction. That was the only part of him she had patience for.

"You're going places, Courtney," he began, eyes opening. "Fuck the SATs. The colleges you applied to will see your resume and essay and accept you fast. If they don't, their loss, right? You apply for others, you meet their deadlines, you're in for sure.

"I'm not … I don't have anywhere to go. I don't have ambitions like you do. I can't look that far ahead of my life. To be honest, you scare the shit out of me when you talk about the future because I can't see mine as clearly as you can see yours."

Courtney proceeded to pull away from his forehead to address him properly. "Duncan — "

"Here's your answer, Courtney. Deal with it. You were — are — so goddamn busy ever since senior year started. We barely had any time together. I wanted to spend as much time as I possibly can with you knowing that you would go off on some fancy college, and I'd … I'd, uh, never see you again." Her eyebrows furrowed when she realized he couldn't speak without looking at her eyes. It hurt her seeing him like this. It always did. "And it pissed me off too with how insensitive you were about it."

"I was never insensitive towards your feelings!" she argued. "I always asked if you were okay because sometimes I'd see you having this look on your face." He would be playing with her hair absentmindedly while she did her homework, but his eyes would look troubled.

He shook his head, sighing irritably. "That's not what I mean! At the time, I thought you were being insensitive 'cause all you thought about was yourself but not us. What would happen to us once you left and started on your future? Every single fucking day, I thought about it, Courtney. And the answers kept pissing me off. I just … "

"So you broke up with me because … you were scared?"

"I broke up with you because we had to eventually."

She started getting angry again. "So that means instead of being a man and expressing your worries to me about that and together we would figure it out you chose to break up with me with no explanations and everything would be fine and fucking dandy?!" she yelled.

"Well, it would be better than being with you and always knowing that it wouldn't last!"

"Oh, but I know deep down inside of you, you knew it was wrong! You knew! And you didn't tell me anything! You just left me at the school parking lot, lost and confused and — and devastated! You didn't even take into consideration about how I felt!"

"Fuck, this is going nowhere. What I'm saying is, is that I fucked up, all right? I know I shouldn't have done that."

Courtney growled. "Well, damn right you shouldn't have. Did you know that every day after you broke up with me I kept thinking about what I did wrong? That maybe there was something about me that you just couldn't handle anymore."

Quietly, he asked, "Do you still think about that?"

Honesty was the only way they could reconcile this mess he created. "Not as much as before. My life doesn't revolve around you, you know."

He let out a humorless chuckle at that.

Courtney looked at him from underneath her eyelashes and sighed. She straightened up and grabbed his hand. She tried not to tear up once he automatically interlocked his fingers with hers.

"I'm exhausted. Let's go to my room," she suggested.

It was so like him to smirk at her.

"Shut up. We still need to talk."

They both went up the stairs. Duncan was following closely behind, and for some reason, it reminded her of prom night and how his proximity bothered her. But this time, she welcomed it. It was like stepping into familiar territory that was unfamiliar at the same time.

In the comfort her room, Duncan sat down on the edge of her bed, one leg resting on the ground. Courtney was seated cross-legged in front of him.

"Why … Why did you date Heather?" she asked.

Duncan's eyes hardened. "Biggest mistake of my fuckin' life," he said bitterly. "Bitch blackmailed me."

His response was partially unexpected. She knew Duncan hated Heather's guts, so it was a surprise when she had found out they were dating.

"Remember when we first started dating? That day you showed me your Polaroid camera."

The memory came easily for Courtney. She had just found the camera in the recesses of her storage closet. Duncan had come over and played around with it, which had irritated her because he had been wasting the film.

She nodded.

At that, he continued. "I took a bunch of pictures, but there was this one picture I took of you that I — that I, uh, kept." His teal eyes averted from her. He rubbed the back of his head. "I think I said something ridiculous, and for some reason, you smiled. It was the first time I saw you smile for real, and I just — I just had to take a picture."

Her heart thumped at the warmth in his eyes. "It was … nice," he commented, eyes straight through hers. "Still is, y'know."

She cleared her throat, attempting to fight down the butterflies in her stomach and the embarrassing hue on her cheeks. "Go on," she managed to say without spluttering.

He smirked slightly at her reaction. "Anyway, I kept that picture. Before we broke up, I had it taped on my wall at the area where I put random shit on."

"I didn't know that." That wall of his had a bunch of posters plastered on it.

"Yeah, I did. After we broke up, I took it down, but, um — " He stopped. He seemed reluctant to go on.

Courtney leaned forward. "What?"

"Fuck, this is embarrassing. I kept the picture of you underneath my pillow." He averted his eyes away from her again.

She smiled, incredibly flattered. "Duncan … ," she murmured. "Who knew you were such a sap?" She knew he was an inner sap, but no matter what, it would always bring out a reaction from her.

He glared petulantly at her. "Shut up, Courtney." He let out a sigh, glare disappearing quickly. "One day, though, I slipped the picture in my pocket 'cause one of my brothers came into my room. If only that little shit didn't come into my room …

"I don't know, but this was probably two months after we broke up. I accidentally kept the picture in my pocket. I have Heather for English, and — damn, I still don't know how — that's when she saw the picture of you and swiped it. Shouldn't have sat next to her." He shook his head at his mistake. "After class, she cornered me. Told me if I didn't help her make Alejandro jealous, she'd broadcast your picture to everyone. So, I had to."

Courtney let the information sink in for a while. "When did you finally escape her claws?"

A small smile appeared at that. "I saw them fucking at a party we were invited to. The next day, she came up to me and handed me your picture. Broke up with me. I swear, Courtney, that day it was like I was high. I was in heaven the entire day."

"Duncan, how could you let Heather control you like that? You could've easily stolen back the picture. And why didn't she broadcast it anyway? This is Heather. She's a manipulative, well, bitch."

He scowled. "I could've. She knew that, so before we met up to 'be official,' she took a picture of it with her phone. And she didn't broadcast it because that same day, I grabbed her phone and broke it. Also, I threatened to tell Alejandro that she has a nasty habit of farting after she eats mac 'n' cheese." He laughed at a memory.

Courtney's face contorted into disgust. "Too much information, Duncan."

She laid down on her bed, pillows nestled comfortably underneath her head. Soon after, Duncan joined her, but he was lying down horizontally. His top of his head was against her waist. She patted his cheek, and he got the memo. He lifted his head and rested it on her stomach. Slowly, her fingers went over his head but stopped.

This is getting way too intimate, she thought, eyebrows furrowed. Is this healthy? We finally got some sort of closure between us. Am I exposing myself too much? Should I even forgive him?

His eyes were closed. He almost had that rare peaceful look on his face when he slept, which made him look ironically innocent.

She smiled softly. She ran her fingers through the short spikes of his hair around his mohawk.

Predictably, he moaned a little. Courtney bit her lower lip to prevent herself from giggling.

"You know," Duncan started, putty in her hands, "when I saw Scott talking to you back then, I wanted to beat the shit out of him."

Courtney rolled his eyes. "Why? Don't tell me you were jealous."

"Tch, hell no. That Scott dude? He's a scam artist in more ways than one. The 'love 'em and leave 'em' type of guy. Dude thinks he has a chance with a real girl like you."

A real girl like me? Closest compliment I can get from him. "Aren't you talking about your former self, as well? And I don't know, Duncan. He said he liked me and was pretty truthful about it." And just to spite him, she added, "It was cute."

Immediately, Duncan's head went up to cast her an incredulous glare. "'Cute'?" he sneered. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me, Courtney."

"Oh, calm down. It was. He was actually pretty romantic about it, too. In his own way."

He resumed his original position, scoffing. "Romantic. Sure. Whatever, dude has no balls."

"You know what, Duncan? If you recruit Scott in your nefarious revenge against Heather, you could cause some serious damage against her together."

"How'd you know 'bout my revenge?"

"Duncan."

He snickered. "Right, right." Then, he was quiet for a moment. "I love how you're a genius sometimes, babe."

This time, she scoffed. "'Sometimes'? Please." She couldn't help herself but — "And don't call me 'babe.' We're not dating."

His smirk was deafening in her serene room.


Apparently someone put fresh mac 'n' cheese in Heather's gym bag, coating all of her belongings inside. Her scream reverberated out of the girls' locker room and into the school hallways.

Courtney recalled Duncan sneaking into the school cafeteria in the early morning and Scott suspiciously holding duffle bags, heading to the cafeteria, as well.

She smiled to herself and resumed cleaning up her locker. She felt proud since she planted that idea in his mind.

"Hey Courtney!"

Geoff walked up next to her, wearing a T-shirt that was much too inappropriate.

It's our last day, and he could still get reprimanded. He might not get a suspension, but I'd bet on work detail, she thought.

"Yes, Geoff?" she asked, discarding papers in the trashcan she brought over.

"I feel like I haven't seen you after prom. It's our last day now, and I'm here to give you a hug." He grinned largely at her before backing away slightly. "Now, I know you're gonna pummel the shit out of me or — or, hell, even nag the shit out of me about it, but seriously? It's our last day, and although you were annoying most of the time, I really appreciate you putting up with me and working hard to make this senior year be the best damn year ever for all of us."

Courtney stopped organizing to look at Geoff with wide eyes. She felt tears prickling at the corners.

And so, without warning, Geoff grabbed Courtney into a bear hug. Any source of oxygen was cut off by the iron hold she was in. Instead of resisting, which she considered, she managed to wedge her arms out and hugged him back as best as she could.

Once he was done, Geoff held her at arms-length, still grinning. "I am so glad that you and Duncan got back together after prom. You were hot as hell that night, so I don't blame him," he said. His eyes widened. "Don't tell Bridgette that last part."

Wait, what? "Duncan and I didn't get together — we're not even together, Geoff. What gave you that idea?" she questioned.

"At my after party. You were freakin' drunk — hella shocking, Courtney — and Duncan brought you back to your hotel room. Surprisingly, you guys didn't get it on. You were practically hanging all over him, testing the dude's self-control." He laughed.

Courtney was mortified at her actions, but something warm fluttered inside her. Duncan took care of her? He was the one that brought her to her hotel room? He was the one that placed a blanket over her?

"Damn, I'm glad you won't remember any of this."

A soft smile appeared on her lips.

Geoff saw it and nodded. "Yeah, man. Duncan's unpredictable as hell, but when it comes to you, Courtney? I know for a fact that he's with you all the way even though he could be an asshole."

"He is an asshole, Geoff." But she was still smiling.

Outside in the field, during the countdown, Courtney stayed underneath the shade while everyone was watching the LED screen the AV Club lent the class. Noah stood beside her, watching as well.

Her eyes searched for Duncan, but she tried to be subtle about it. She knew Noah would mock her endlessly.

Suddenly the senior class was in an uproar. Cameras flashed, and friends grouped together for pictures. Hands were held tightly, and kisses were shared shamelessly. Smiles, grins, and such were on faces. The ambience was swirling around with happiness and the anticipation for freedom.

"Ten!"

"Why didn't you tell me Duncan took care of me that night after prom?"

"Nine! Eight!"

Noah smirked. "I figured it'd be more romantic if you found out later — after you guys reconciled and made merry in the sheets."

Courtney rolled her eyes and then continued her search. "We didn't 'make merry in the sheets,' Noah. We're friends, yes, but we still need to figure it all out."

"Five! Four!"

There. She spotted him hanging off the statue of their school's figure. He had one arm up, fingers counting along with his voice.

"Three! Two!"

"Courtney, what's there left to figure out?"

"ONE!"

And then he spotted her. Teal eyes locked onto her eyes. A genuine smile spread on his face, and he winked at her direction.

She couldn't help but shake her head and stick her tongue at him.

Noah saw the exchange and rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you idiots know what do from here on out," he muttered.


my last duncney fic. for now. who knows?

(disclaimer: i only own nancy.)

mainly wrote this story because i had feelz at the time. originally, though, it was supposed to be an angst-filled story, but i couldn't resist a happy ending.

speaking of the ending, it's supposed to be obvious, y'know, reconiliation and the high possibility of getting back together. as for the couple's future? that's up to all y'all. i'm pretty sure courtney will help duncan with his future and vice versa.

thanks for reading. duncney ftw, am i right?

feedback is also welcomed and appreciated. :)