Hey everyone—newcomer Story Teller 9212 here! I bring you a made-up Tyler/Bridgette story that I just thought up at the top of my head, along with some inspiration from the song "When Will I Be Loved?" hence the title to the story, yet no other lines will be used in it. You know, I personally don't understand why nobody from Teletoon thought of putting Bridgette and Tyler together, let alone Geoff and Lindsay. From my point of view, I think Tyler and Bridgette have more in common if you think about it. Also, I thought of adding Owen and Izzy into the story simply because they're my favorite couple in Total Drama, and as for the other reason . . . well, you'll have to read the story and find out yourself. Anyway, enjoy and don't forget to send a positive review!

"I've been cheated, been mistreated. When will I be loved? I've been put down; I've been pushed 'round. When will I be loved?"

—Linda Ronstadt

It was a typical workday at the local soda fountain for Owen. The blond-haired, rotund camper, while cleaning a mug, snuck out of his pocket a picture of him and his crazy red-haired girlfriend Izzy. Their relationship had been broken since they were in Jamaica, but after they were given guest spots for the fourth season of Total Drama, Owen managed to patch things up with Izzy. Sure he might have been slapped across the face for trying to break up with her first, but after she apologized for unconsciously breaking up with him (and slapping him in the first place), they kissed and made up, their relationship rekindled once more; that slap in the face was worth getting back to the girl of his dreams, the only one who truly understood him and shared the same interests with him. All the party guy could do was smile to himself and sigh, knowing that he was truly lucky.

"Yo, Owen!" called Trent from the barstool. "How about another round?"

The obese teen was snapped back into reality as he quickly stashed the picture back in his pocket and redirected his attention on his pal. "Sure thing Trent. Another cola on the rocks?"

The cool kid chuckled to himself as his friend tried to sound like a pro bartender. "Yeah, another cola, dude."

The party guy came back after a moment with a mug filled with icy cola.

"So Owen," said Trent, in a partly sly tone, "what were you sighing about?"

"Sighing?" the teenage soda jerk asked, nervously. "Oh, nothing. Honest."

"You were thinking about Izzy, weren't you?"

"Aw heck, nothing gets passed you, dude."

"I thought so. Personally Owen, I'm glad to see that the two of you are back together."

"So am I. What can I say? Izzy is like . . . the peanut butter with my chocolate, the eggs with my bacon, the pepper with my salt, . . . and you kinda catch on from there."

"Yeah, I totally understand where you're coming from. It's too bad some of the other relationships, other than Cody and Sierra, have been broken, like Harold and LeShawna and . . . me and Gwen."

"Hey Trent," said Owen in a gentle tone, "I'm sorry that she's together with Duncan (again) instead of you. If those two weren't together, however, you wouldn't have found that new girl of yours. Uh, no offense, man."

"None taken."

"Okay, that's good. You know, I would like to meet that new girlfriend of yours. Is she from around here?"

"No, she's from the other side of Canada; she was visiting when we met, you see."

"That would explain everything. Say Trent, remember when you were making a comment about the other relationships breaking up?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I just remembered Bridgette and Geoff are still together, as with Tyler and Lindsay."

"True. True. . . . However, as for Tyler and Lindsay, I don't think they'll be together for long."

Owen's eyes shot up wide at the statement. "What makes you say that?"

Trent sighed solemnly. "Well, I've been hearing rumors around Muskoka that Lindsay has become boy-crazy."

The party guy blinked with disbelief. "Does Tyler know about it?"

"I doubt he does. Then again, I could be wrong—I mean, not all rumors are true."

"You're right—I'm sure it's all libel. . . . Or is it slander? I'm always getting those confused."

At that moment, a certain surfer girl came in wearing a pair of dark shades and a frown on her face. She sat herself on a barstool next to Trent and set her head in one hand. "Lemon-lime with ice, please."

Giving her the thumbs-up, Owen prepared Bridgette's soda and went right back, a look of worry and confusion on his face. "Gee, Bridge, are you all right? You seem sad today."

Bridgette's mind was elsewhere before realizing she was being spoken to. "Huh? Oh, sorry about that Owen; I guess I'm just a little tired is all."

"Why are you wearing shades? Is it that bright out?" asked Trent.

"It is for me. Besides, I . . . have some serious bags under my eyes."

Owen shrugged as he put a straw in the surfer girl's drink. "It's happened to the best of us. Hey Bridgette, have you heard rumors around here about Tyler and Lindsay?"

Before she could say anything, a certain red-haired, green-wearing girl burst through the doors. "Hey everyone! Don't get the party started without me!" And like a bolt of lightning, Izzy zoomed to the other barstool next to Trent.

"Well now," started Owen, leaning over the table with a dreamy look, "what's a cute girl like you doing here?"

"Oh, no reason other than to see a rather cute bartender." Izzy began ruffling Owen's hair before they shared a fast kiss.

"No offense," pointed out Trent, cautiously, "but I think the proper term would be soda jerk."

"It is?" asked the crazy girl, whipping her head around to the cool kid's direction. "But Big O here is no jerk of any kind."

Trent tugged at the collar of his shirt nervously. "What I meant was I thought it was the proper term. I could be wrong."

"Oh, well in that case. . . ." Trailing off, Izzy focused her attention back on Owen. "I like my usual please, Big O."

"Ah yes," said the party guy, rubbing his hands together, "the High-C Special coming up Iz."

"High-C Special?" asked Bridgette to the crazy girl.

"Yeah," said Izzy in a sly tone, "high in caffeine. I'm here to get a buzz."

"Oh crud," mumbled the surfer girl quietly, "there goes the neighborhood."

"What's that?"

"Err . . . nothing."

"I thought so. Hey Bridge, why are you wearing shades in here?"

"Oh, my eyes are a bit sensitive to the light lately. . . . And I haven't been getting enough sleep."

"Raccoon rings?"

"You have no idea."

As Owen came back with Izzy's concocted soft drink, the surfer girl remembered her friend asking her a question before his girlfriend came in, but now forgot what it was again.

"Hey Owen?" Bridgette asked.

"Yeah, Bridge?" answered back the party guy.

"You were asking me something earlier and I can't remember what you asked me. Could you tell me what it was again?"

"Oh sure thing. I was asking you about Tyler and Lindsay. Trent here has told me about rumors going around that Lindsay has been cheating on Tyler."

". . . Seriously?"

"I'm not joshing you. Well, at least that's what the rumors are about. Have you heard anything about them?"

"Actually I haven't. You see, I've been with Geoff for some time that I don't hear much about our other fellow campers' lives, other than you and Izzy getting back together, of course."

"Right. Well, I'm sure you've seen them around haven't you?"

"One or the other, yes. Both of them together, I can't say that I remember. Hypothetically speaking, if Lindsay would be having an affair behind Tyler's back, then wouldn't Ty know about it by now, if at all?"

Izzy shrugged. "You got us. Come to think of it, I haven't seen them going out together much. Then again, I probably either don't remember or keep missing the times they are together."

At that moment, Tyler came into the soda fountain and sat next to Bridgette.

"Ty!" said Owen happily. "We were just talking about you. Anything I can get for you buddy?"

"Nah," said the jock with a shake of his head, "I'm just going to sit here for a little while. If that's okay with you, of course."

"Eh, not a problem—anything for my friends."

"You consider almost everybody from Total Drama your friend."

"I rest my case, Ty, I rest my case."

Shrugging it off, Tyler focused his attention on Bridgette; before he could make a comment, the latter sighed, "Light sensitivity and serious baggage under the eyes."

"What?" asked Tyler.

"You were going to ask me why I have shades on weren't you?"

"Uh, no. I was just going to say 'hi,' that's all."

"Oh, sorry about that."

The jock sighed. "Nothing to worry about. Listen guys, I apologize if I sound a little moody today, all right?"

"Relax," assured Trent, "apology accepted. I'm not one to pry but, why are you moody Ty?"

". . . Do you really want to know?"

"If it's too personal you don't have to tell us. We'd understand."

"It's okay, I'll tell you guys. You see, it all started when I was talking to LeShawna yesterday."

"Really?" asked Owen. "How's she doing?"

"Oh she's doing fine and all; I heard she's been dating B lately. You know, one of the newest campers that Chris dragged into his dumb game show for its fourth season?"

Everyone nodded before the jock continued. "Well anyway, LeShawna told me that she and her new boyfriend have seen my girl with some guy yesterday."

"Have you talked to her about it yet, Ty?" asked Bridge.

"I haven't yet. You see, I don't want to jump to conclusions about it and think she's cheating on me or anything—could be coincidence."

"Could be."

"I hope it was coincidence. Otherwise, without Lindsay in my life, then life itself would just be an empty hole for me."

"Yeah," said Owen, "I totally understand that, dude. Well, if you want anybody to talk to, then Izzy and I are right there to help you."

Tyler managed a small smile. "Thanks Owen, that's really self-assuring. . . . You know, I think I'll just go talk to Lindsay right now and get the whole situation straightened out. Rest assure guys, the two of us will be laughing about it before you know it. Catch you later."

Managing a small smile as well, Bridgette waved goodbye to the jock. "So long, Ty."

As Tyler walked out of the soda fountain, the surfer girl's phone started vibrating. Nervously, Bridgette whipped her cell phone out and read the message before gasping. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry guys, but I've gotta go now."

"Wait a minute, what about your drink?" asked Owen confusedly.

"Guess I wasn't thirsty after all. I'll talk to you later."

Little did the surfer girl know was that she dropped her phone as she got up and left in such a hurry. Noticing that, Trent picked up the cell phone, but before he could tell Bridgette, she was gone.

"Hey Trent," said Izzy, "how 'bout handing the cell phone to me? I'll give it back to Bridge."

"Are you sure?" asked Trent.

"Sure I'm sure, silly! I know precisely where she and Geoff are staying, so you can trust me."

Without another word, the crazy girl snatched the phone and made a bee line out of the soda fountain.

"You know something Trent?" asked the party guy. "I think there's something wrong with Bridgette and Geoff's relationship."

"Really?" asked the cool guy slightly astonished. "What makes you say that, Owen?"

"I don't know, but sometimes I can feel that something isn't right; however, I'm mostly wrong about it, so maybe—just maybe—there's really nothing to worry about."

Trent shrugged at that prospect. "Eh, we'll see."

Over at Lindsay's house, the dumb blonde was making out with Justin. They broke their long kiss when she heard a knock on the door.

"Eep!" gasped Lindsay. "It must be Taylor—I mean Tyler. Justin, hide in the closet."

"Right—" nodded the eye candy—"sure thing."

While Justin ducked into the closet, Lindsay headed for the door as she tried to straighten out her hair. Even though she could easily, and undoubtedly, be deceived by Monkeys, the dumb blonde was actually right when she thought Tyler was at the door, because he was there as she opened it.

"Hey Lindsay, how've you been?" asked the jock.

"Oh you know," shrugged Lindsay innocently, "I've been busy."

"Understandable. Listen, I want to speak to you about something important if that's all right with you, of course."

"I don't see why not."

". . . Mind if I come in for a moment?"

"Uhhh . . . yeah, come right in Justin—I mean Tyler."

"Justin? I know you've accidentally called me Alejandro, but 'Justin' is a first."

"I just talked to him on the phone for old friendly times' sake."

After Lindsay walked away back into her house, Tyler thought about that for a quick moment and just shrugged before closing the door behind him.

"So, what do you want to ask me?" queried the dumb blonde, looking back at the closet in a quick glance.

"Well," started Tyler, "let me just say that I just recently talked to LeShawna."

"Oh? How's she doing?"

"She's doing okay. But listen, whatever I say, promise me you won't be offended in any way, shape, or form, all right? If you would be offended, then I won't ask you."

"Oh, I won't be offended."

"Okay then. You see, LeShawna told me that she and her new boyfriend B saw you with a guy one day."

"A guy?"

"Yeah, you know how she can be a little worried and all."

"It's not what you think—I swear."

"I know. That's what I wanted to ask you. Were you with a guy recently?"

"No. . . . Wait, yes I was, but I was only talking to him—nothing else."

"I kind of thought so. . . . Am I offending you Lindsay?"

"Not at all, Tyler."

"Okay, that's good. Listen, I'm just wondering but I need to know something: Do you still love me?"

". . . Oh, absolutely."

"If there were problems—any problems in our relationship that you know of, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Sure I would. Why are you asking?"

"Just because, that's all. . . . Lindsay, it's just that I practically worship the ground you walk upon, and I don't want anything to come between us. That's why I'm asking these questions."

"Well, there's nothing to worry about."

"Okay then. So, are we Even-Steven, on the same page, and so on and so forth?"

"Yep. . . . Uhh, who's Steven?"

Tyler couldn't help but chuckle to himself before hugging his not-so-perfect girlfriend. "I love you."

While hugging back, the dumb blond shrugged. "I know."

The jock broke the embrace when he heard what sounded like a sneeze.

"Lindsay?" asked Tyler. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" shrugged the dumb blonde. She was reminded upon hearing that sneeze again . . . from the closet. She put on her most innocent smile. "Oh. Uhh . . . mice?"

"Mice?" echoed Tyler. "More like a rat, if you ask me. I'm going to take care of it for you. I think I heard it from the closet."

Before Lindsay could utter another word, Tyler had the closet door opened and was staring with disbelief at Justin. What appalled the jock even worse was the fact that the eye candy had rouge on the side of his mouth.

"Oh geez!" groaned Justin before busting out of the house and running as fast as he could.

"Now Tyler," said Lindsay, nervously, "please let me explain."

"Explain?" questioned the jock vehemently, his face mixed with anger and hurt. "How can you explain Justin hiding in your closet? With rouge smeared on his mouth?"

"I . . . I—"

"How can you betray me like that? I trusted you, and you promised that you would tell me if our relationship was going downhill."

"I understand, but you see—"

"I know what the problem is: It's because I suck at sports, isn't it? Am I that much of an embarrassment to you that you would turn your back on me and keep your affairs secret?"

"It's not what you think."

"No, it is what I think. I should have listened to LeShawna when she told me about you. If I ever see you again, Lindsay, it would be too soon. Goodbye and good riddance!"

Stomping out of his ex-girlfriend's house, Tyler slammed the door behind him and left Lindsay full of shock, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth.

Meanwhile, at that same time, Izzy was walking up to Geoff's house when she noticed his garbage can brimming with bottles. With a cocked eyebrow, the crazy girl watched the windows for any silhouettes before picking up one of the bottles and gave it a good long whiff.

I knew it! Izzy thought. It's tequila, and where there's that, there's some BIG trouble.

Setting the tequila bottle on the ground, the crazy girl rapped on the door. Seeing one green eye, she noticed right away it was Bridgette hiding her face.

"Yes?" asked the surfer girl.

"Hey there, Bridge!" said Izzy cheerfully. "Earlier today you dropped your cell phone and I thought I might bring it to you."

"Oh thanks, Izzy." Bridgette stuck a hand out of the door. "I'll just relieve you of it."

Izzy's smile disappeared when she thought about the empty tequila bottles and her friend hiding most of her face. "Bridgette? Is there something wrong?"

"Err . . . not at all. Honest."

"C'mon Bridge, we're pals. Say, you don't look that tired."

There was a pause before the surfer girl sighed in half-defeat. "I confess that I lied about being tired and being light sensitive and everything else."

"Then why are you hiding your face? . . . Oh I get it, it's a zit, eh?"

"No it's nothing like that. Please, if I show you, would you promise me not to tell anyone else?"

"You can count on me, Bridge."

Solemnly and slowly, Bridgette opened the door and the right side of her face was showing a black eye.

"Well I'll be darned!" breathed out the crazy girl. "That's quite a shiner you have. Why didn't you want me to tell anyone that you're an MMA fighter now? That is so cool!"

"Actually . . ." said Bridgette before she was interrupted by Geoff's voice.

"Bridgette!" bellowed Geoff. "Bridgette! Where are you!?"

"Oh no!" said Izzy, after pausing with realization of the black eye. "Oh no, no, no, he did not!"

"Please Iz," said the surfer girl, "I can't have you get involved."

"Too late about that. Nobody, but nobody messes with Izzy's friends or Owen! Just give me five minutes with Geoff—I'll kill him a million times!" Unfortunately, the surfer girl blocked her path.

"Please," said Bridgette, now beginning a not-so-convincing lie, "it was all a misunderstanding—an accident. Geoff's going to apologize tonight."

Still not believing her, but not wanting to take the risk, the crazy girl shook her head. "All right then I'll just let you be. Oh, and don't forget your cell phone."

". . . Thanks."

And with that, Izzy turned tail and Bridgette closed the door behind her.

Later that night, back at the soda fountain, Owen started closing up. He was disturbed by the sound of trash cans getting knocked over or kicked. He turned his head to the alley the clamor was coming from, his face filled with terror.

"Hello? Anybody out there?" called Owen in a nervous tone. "Izzy, is that you? Trent? Mother?"

After a moment of nerve-wracking silence, a trash can flew out of the alley and out came an extremely angry Tyler.

"Traitor!" growled the jock with a raised voice. "Liar! Double-crossing, no-good, dishonest, two-faced . . . !"

Picking up a trash can, Ty threw it as hard as he could into the alley wall, the sound making Owen shudder, before punching it multiple times.

Still nervous, Owen slowly walked into Tyler's direction. "Hey, uh, Tyler?"

Upon hearing the party guy's voice, he whipped his head around and hissed, "What!?"

Severely shaking like a leaf, Owen started to back away from his friend.

Tyler's blind rage started to clear as he saw that he just verbally lashed out at a familiar face. "Oh, sorry Owen I didn't mean to snap at you. Honestly I didn't."

"Oh no," assured the scared party guy, "it's all right. . . . Is something wrong?"

". . . Yes, I'm afraid to say there is. Owen, remember when I told you earlier today that I was going to talk to Lindsay about that presumed affair?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, when I got to her house and talked to her about it, I saw that Justin was hiding in her closet . . . and he had rouge on his mouth from kissing her."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I was just so mad that I just wanted to punch something. I went to the local gym and used the punching bag, but when they closed down, I was still mad, hence the reason I came here. However, I think I should have put on boxing tape." Tyler held out his hands and his knuckles were red and cracked.

"Dude, I feel for you. I'm sorry for what happened today."

"No, no, it's not your fault. I feel like I've just been given the shaft."

". . . Hey Ty, remember when I told you that my girlfriend and I would be there to talk to you about any kind of problem?"

"Yeah I remember. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think it's time that we talked."

"I've told you everything about my day. I broke up with Lindsay because she has cheated on me. The worst thing is that I don't know exactly why she would do such a thing."

"Maybe you should go home and try to relax."

"Home? What home? Lindsay's place was my home. I have no home to go to."

". . . Maybe you can crash at my place for awhile?"

"You mean that, Owen? I don't wish to be a burden or anything."

"Nonsense. Izzy wouldn't mind either. We have two spare bedrooms in our place, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Gee, thanks man. I . . . I don't know what to say."

"No need to say more, Tyler old buddy. Come on, let's go."

With that, the two friends walked to the party guy's house. Once they arrived, Owen stopped Tyler before turning to him.

"Hey Ty," said Owen, "you'll have to forgive me, but Izzy usually waits around downstairs so she can scare me."

The jock raised an eyebrow at that. "What for?"

"Oh, just for the fun of it. Heh-heh. So anyway, I think it's best that I go in first."

"Hmm, fine by me."

Cautiously, Owen opened the door and stepped inside. To his surprise however, he found Izzy sitting at the dining room table, her head in both hands and a look of worry and sorrow on her face.

"Hey, uh, Izzy?" asked Owen uncertainly.

"Huh?" asked the crazy girl, now out of her train of thought. "Oh, hey Owen. What's Tyler doing here?"

"For certain reasons that might require sitting down to and discussing. Did something bad happen when you returned Bridgette's cell phone to her?"

"Yes—I mean, no—I mean . . . You guys might want to sit down also."

The boys looked at each other with worry etched on their faces for a moment before setting themselves at the dining table.

"So you see," said Owen, concluding the story, "that's what happened to Tyler. Now that he has left Lindsay, he has no place to go to for now."

"Would it be okay with you if I stayed here?" asked Tyler.

"Yeah," nodded Izzy, "it's all good."

"You see?" asked the party guy to the jock. "I told you she's understanding. So Iz, what happened with Bridgette?"

Looking down, the crazy girl shook her head and sighed. "Well, Big O, all I can say is that methinks poor Bridge is in an abusive relationship."

While Tyler looked on with a dropped jaw, Owen stared at Izzy with wide-eyed bewilderment. "An abusive relationship? Are you sure?"

The crazy girl shrugged. "Well, when you see a trash can full of empty tequila bottles, a girl with a black eye who has to cover it with shades, and hear some guy yelling like a banshee, it kinda all adds up. Now, I might have a few screws loose—" at that, she was pointing at her head and her eyes rolled around once in opposite directions—"but that doesn't mean I'm dumb."

"Whoa," breathed out the party guy, "I can't believe it. Poor Bridgette . . ." He then focused his attention to the jock. "What do you make of all that, Tyler?"

Closing his jaw, Tyler simply shook his head with disbelief. "I . . . I don't know what to say. She shouldn't be living such a life. I think we should pick her up."

"Gee, that's a swell idea and all," said Izzy, "but she instructed me to not be involved—I already broke the other rule of not telling anyone."

"But at the same time," shrugged Owen, "she shouldn't have to endure being with someone in a tequila-soaked rage. Yeah, I can eat and drink about anything, but I don't believe in that sort of thing, you know?"

Before anyone could answer, there came banging on the door; shrugging, the party guy went to answer it. Upon opening the door, he was surprised to see a familiar tear-stained face: Bridgette.

"Owen, you've gotta let me in!" begged the surfer girl in a tight voice. "Geoff is following me! Please let me in!"

"Don't worry," gently assured Owen, "do come in."

Outside in the dark, Geoff was watching his girlfriend enter the house. In a blind rage, he threw his empty tequila bottle on the street and drunkenly stumbled up to the house and slowly pounded on the door.

Gasping, Bridgette scrambled underneath the dining table, trembling with fear beyond comprehension. "He's here—I'm sure of it!"

Looking under the table, the crazy girl patted her shoulder. "Nothing to worry about, Bridge. We'll just have to beat his butt up and down if he tries anything funny. Right, Big O?"

Although usually a coward, the party guy puffed up his chest and put on a game face after a moment of silent thinking. "Yeah, that's right Izzy. Just let him try, but he won't be raising a hand—not around here he isn't! . . . If that's him of course."

Almost as if it was his answer, Geoff barged inside the house. "Owen! Izzy! Tyler! Looks like the gang's all here!" the funny guy said in a severely slurred speech. "I thought I saw Bridge walk in here, well now it's time for her to go back home with me."

"Why, so you can beat her brains out while you guzzle down more tequila?" hissed Izzy (who is now blocking the dining table), glaring with flames almost appearing behind her green eyes. "Sorry, but that's not gonna happen tonight, or any other night!"

Owen slid next to his girlfriend, puffing up his chest again with arms folded and his black eyes mere slits as he glared. "If you want Bridgette so badly, then you'll have to go through us!"

"Hey guys!" whined a drunken Geoff. "What happened to the love? Ty, tell them to let me have my girlfriend back, won't you old pal?"

Getting up from the table and walking in a brisk pace, Tyler was now eye-to-eye with his soon-to-be former friend. "And if I refuse?"

In response to his question, the drunken funny guy punched Tyler in the stomach, sending the caught-off-guard jock recoiling and wincing in pain.

Bellowing, Geoff shoved Owen and Izzy out of his way before flipping the dining table over. He then grabbed Bridgette by the arms and pinned her against a wall.

"You said you would stay loyal to me!" cried out Geoff. "You said you'll stay with me! You have turned your back on me one too many times now!" With each sentence, he kept shoving the surfer girl hard into the wall.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, the funny guy turned around and was punched square in the jaw by Tyler. When she wasn't restrained, Bridgette slid down to the floor, sobbing.

The jock pinned Geoff down to the floor and started slamming the funny guy's head in it multiple times. "Don't ever . . . treat . . . girls . . . like . . . that!"

As Tyler unpinned him, Geoff slowly and weakly got back on his feet before Bridgette, still teary-eyed but angry, slapped and spit him in the face. Although drunk, the funny guy knew that he was beat and dragged himself out of the house.

"How do you like us now, you big jerk!?" called out Owen. "That's what you get for being what you are!"

"Limp back home and don't come back!" called out Izzy, shaking her fist.

Collapsing on her knees, the trembling surfer girl continued sobbing as she covered her face. "All because of me. . . . All because of me."

Bending down to her height, Tyler gently patted Bridgette's back. "What are you saying, Bridge? You're not the reason Geoff's been acting like that."

"No, you don't understand. Ever since Alejandro had me eliminated back in World Tour, Geoff still has a grudge on me for being infatuated with him."

"That wasn't your fault; it was all a part of his scheme in trying to win. . . ." Remembering when Alejandro seduced Bridgette into her own elimination from the third season, Tyler realized a possible explanation about his own relationship . . . before he turned his attention to Owen and Izzy.

"Guys, I need to tell you something serious. But first, we need to bring Bridge to bed; she should feel better tomorrow."

Owen nodded solemnly. "We'll do that. Let us show you the spare bedrooms. Are you coming Iz?"

However, Izzy was still busy looking out the window to make sure a certain drunkard won't be coming back too soon. Hearing her boyfriend by the mere mention of her nickname, the crazy girl nodded, her usually happy face now crestfallen. "Ready when you are, Big O."

After he picked Bridgette up and allowing her to wrap her arm around his neck, Tyler followed his two friends upstairs to the last two bedrooms down the upstairs hallway. Entering either room, the jock had set the surfer girl gently down on the bed.

"Will you be okay here?" asked Tyler, in a slightly worried voice.

Bridgette could only nod for she couldn't raise her voice above a mere whisper. As the jock was about to head downstairs with the odd couple, he felt a bit of weight on his arm and noticed the surfer girl didn't want him to leave yet.

"Is there something wrong?" Tyler asked.

All Bridgette did was tug on his sleeve, giving him the message to come closer to her. As he bent over to hear what she wanted to say, he was surprised to be given a soft kiss on the cheek before she whispered, "Thank you Ty."

All he could do was nod as he let her slip into slumber. Still surprised by Bridgette's kiss, Tyler felt his cheek as he went downstairs.

With the dining table and the chairs straightened out, Owen and Izzy waited patiently for their friend; their wait, of course, didn't last as long as they thought it would as they hear the jock coming downstairs, as quietly as possible.

Tyler sat himself at the table with his head in both hands and a heavy sigh.

"Is there something wrong, Ty?" asked a concerned Owen.

The jock simply nodded. "Guys, I think I for one know the reason why Lindsay cheated on me."

"Does it have something to do with Courtney flirting with you back in World Tour or something?" queried Izzy.

"Actually," said Tyler in a matter-of-fact way, "I think it does. You see, Bridgette told me that the reason Geoff had been drinking and all is because he is still mad at her for having an affair with Alejandro back in the Yukon."

"What?" asked the party guy with extreme disbelief as he got himself up. "That's a load of Bolshevik!"

"Owen!" gasped the crazy girl, shocked to hear her boyfriend use a word that was close to vulgar (well, the way it sounded anyway).

"I'm sorry Izzy," he said in a firm yet gentle tone, "but if there's one thing I remember, it's that Bridgette did not have an affair with Al; she was a victim of his seduction. And personally Tyler, just because Courtney was flirting with you doesn't mean you were having an affair with her; it was all a part of her little scheme in trying to make Duncan jealous of her and dump Gwen. Now, I'm sure you remember that."

"Yeah," said the jock, scratching the back of his neck, "I understand that part, but now that I think about it, I can probably see my ex-girlfriend's point of view."

"Well, she should have talked to you about it still, or just dumped you before seeing somebody else. . . . With all due respect."

"No offense taken."

Narrowing her eyes, Izzy studied Tyler's face. Something was up; the jock wasn't just thinking about why the dumb blonde started cheating on him, but it was something else. . . .

"Is there something wrong, Iz?" asked Owen, noticing his girlfriend staring at Tyler with suspicion.

"No, not necessarily. Tyler, you're thinking about something else, aren't you?"

"What the heck are you talking about?" asked Tyler with a raised eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"Like I said earlier: I might be crazy as a Fox, but I'm not stupid. You have something else on your mind, doncha? It wouldn't be Bridgette by chance, would it?"

"I have no idea what you mean by that."

"Come now, I saw how you were trying to cheer her up and how you carried her upstairs—kind of a nice touch really, very Bodyguard-like if you know what I mean."

"Look guys, we're just friends. Sure we have the same passion—well sort of—but that doesn't mean we'll be a couple or anything. Oh, and don't expect me to sing Whitney Houston songs or anything, cumprende?"

"Well, the two of you might not become a couple," pointed out Owen, "but the two of you need to move along somehow. You probably won't find your true love real soon, but until that happens, at least you both have somebody to talk to."

". . . You know, you're right. I don't know how long it would take me to get over the fallout, but at least I have somebody to talk to about it. Not that I'm saying I can't talk to you guys—"

The oddball couple just shrugged indifferently to that.

"—I've meant somebody else who understands. . . . Well, time for me to hit the hay. I for one had a long day."

After saying their good-nights, Tyler went upstairs to the vacant spare bedroom. Chuckling inwardly with a smile and a shake of his head, Owen couldn't help but think of his girlfriend's hypothesis. "Yeah, he likes her."

"You think so, too?" giggled Izzy, eyeing her boyfriend.

"Oh yes I do. Since you brought up the subject, I kind of noticed the same thing you did on Tyler's face."

"Like what?"

"Well, he had that look like he was kissed on the cheek and was taken completely by surprise."

"Maybe he was."

"Won't surprise me."

A month had passed by since the fallouts. Tyler and Bridgette had become close friends almost to the point of people thinking they were seeing each other. It had only taken a month for them to get over their old flames, and they haven't heard from them since (and half that month for the surfer girl's eye to heal).

Lately, however, Tyler had been looking at Bridgette differently. He wasn't looking at her as only a friend, but something even more. He never realized how much more attractive she was compared to Lindsay. Maybe it was because she was a water-sports-enthusiast like he was (even though he wasn't picky about sports to begin with), but he wasn't sure. It was one problem he would need to tell Owen and/or Izzy about.

Strangely enough, Bridgette had been looking at Tyler the same way. Sure, they've been good friends and all—she even helped him do better in water sports over the past month—but she couldn't look at the jock without her heart skipping a beat; every time she thought about Geoff, her heart didn't seem to ache for him like it used to. Since the two of them were still bunking with Owen and Izzy, maybe they could help her in sorting out her feelings for Tyler.

One day, Tyler sat at the dining table all alone, pretending that he was talking to Bridgette.

"You see Bridge," the jock said to the thin air before Izzy entered and listened in, "I have been feeling strange lately . . . about you. It's just that whenever I see you smile, it kills me that I don't smile back . . . in that sort of way I mean."

"Now wait just a minute, Ty!" piped up the crazy girl, facing the jock with a stern look. "I'm flattered and all, but I'm dating Owen, and you'll just need to find a—"

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy! I wasn't talking about you—really I wasn't."

Izzy's face dropped to a blank, somewhat embarrassed stare. "You weren't?"

"No, I was pretending to talk to Bridgette—you know, acting it out before I tell her what my true feelings for her are."

"Oh. OHHHH, I see!" A mischievous smile started tugging at the sides of her mouth. "You mean to tell me that you have a crush on Bridge?"

"Yes I admit it."

"How long?"

"I don't know . . . a few weeks maybe? I haven't sorted out my feelings with her yet, but you see, I can't help but think about her lime green eyes and sweet smile before I wake up in the morning, let alone being unable to think of that kiss."

"Back up a second. You kissed her?"

"Err . . . no, she kissed me . . . on the cheek."

"Aw, how sweet. Well since Bridgette's a girl—and so am I—how would you like some advice?"

"Eh, I don't see why not."

"Okay, there are three simple things you must follow: flowers, chocolates, and personality."

"I understand the first two, but what do you mean by personality?"

"In other words show her your true colors. The best person you could be is yourself. How else did I attract Big O in the first place?"

Tyler was afraid to guess that answer, so he just continued with the main subject. "Boy, that sounds almost philosophical of you. . . . So that's it?"

"Well that and drop a few hints that you like her. Just invite her to a date with the flowers and candy and . . . well, do whatever you want from there."

"Gee, thanks Izzy. I think I'll just do that."

"Really?"

"Heck yeah! Thanks again Iz—I owe you one."

And with that, Tyler ran out of the house to arrange the date. The crazy girl looked pleased with herself that she came up with an idea that didn't get criticized. She just hoped that things would go as planned.

As for Bridgette, she had been Owen's assistant at the soda fountain, since business had been booming and everything. While taking a break, the surfer girl was about to have herself a lemon-lime soda, but stopped before imagining the ice cubes in her glass started looking like Tyler.

"Something troubling you, Bridge?" asked the party guy while cleaning a mug.

"What?" asked the distracted surfer girl. "Oh sorry about that, Owen. My mind has been on other things lately."

"Such as?"

"Well, I've been thinking about someone."

"You have?"

"Yeah . . . I just can't stop thinking about him—it's been like a few weeks or something. I never realized what a great guy he is."

"Err . . . with all due respect, Iz and I are still together."

"Oh, sorry about that. Who I meant was Tyler."

"Oh, well in that case—" It only took the party guy a split second to realize what his friend just said—"Tyler, you say?"

"Yeah, I can't believe the two of us never got together since first competing in Total Drama Island, you know?"

"Well, now that I think about it and considering what the two of you have gone through last month, I think you and Ty would make a cute couple."

Hope sparkled in her eyes at that. "Do you really think so?"

"Why, I don't see why you two can't be together."

"The only problem is how I'm going to tell him. Perhaps you can give me some advice, being a guy and all?"

"That's easy, just take things slowly—but not too slow—and drop a few hints that you like him. The most important thing however is to not pretend that you're someone else. It's just like my grandfather always says: 'Don't pull a Gatsby.' If you read The Great Gatsby, then I'm pretty sure you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it. Just show Tyler I love him subtly and just be myself. That doesn't sound too hard. Thanks—how could I ever repay you?"

"There's no price to pay for helping out a fellow friend. Uh-oh, looks like we've got a customer coming in."

At that moment, to both their surprise, the customer who walked in was Tyler.

A sly smirk was etched on the party guy's face. "I'll just leave you two alone."

After the obese teen exited the scene, Bridgette gave Tyler a friendly smile. "What's up, Ty?"

"Oh, nothing much, except . . ." Tyler set a boutique of flowers and a small heart-shaped box of candy on the table as he sat down.

"Why Tyler, I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, a little something I picked up in town. Say Bridge, I was wondering if maybe you would like to go out with me sometime? You know, when you're not too busy or anything."

"Sure, I would like that. What did you have in mind?"

"Oh I don't know . . . dinner maybe . . . a walk in the park perhaps. Just say the word and we shall go from there."

"Okay then. How does tomorrow at six sound?"

"Sounds good to me. Well I hate to run off, but I must get going—a lot important things to take care of."

"Understandable. Oh, and thanks again for the gifts, Ty."

"Sure thing, Bridge. See you tonight."

And as the jock left, the surfer girl sighed happily. All she could do was platonically hug Owen when he came back out.

After running back to the oddball couple's house, Tyler thrust his fist in the air and whooped triumphantly and tightly hugged a surprised Izzy.

Tomorrow night at six came, and Tyler had his casual clothes on, along with a leather jacket just in case it would be a chilly night . . . and he thought it would be a nice touch to let Bridgette borrow it. He waited patiently for the surfer girl to be ready, yet he was worried at the same time; he remembered Bridgette saying that she had an important call to answer and Tyler thought of it as no big deal, but he didn't realize how long that conversation would be.

As Bridgette came out of her room, she looked crestfallen. Tyler was worried and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Is there something wrong Bridge?"

"I'm sorry Ty," mumbled the depressed-sounding surfer girl, "but I'm afraid tonight won't be a good time for that date."

"Why's that? Did something happen?"

". . . I can't tell you right now. I just need a moment to myself—before I sort things out."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all. Please Ty, I just need to go downstairs and try to clear my mind. Sorry about the date."

"Oh, no worries Bridge. If you feel like talking things over, then I'll be glad to help you out in any way."

"Thank you. Just give me a moment and I'll be able to explain."

". . . Take all the time you need."

After Bridgette went downstairs, Tyler went back into his room and slowly took off his jacket as he heard the muffled conversation between Izzy, Owen, and the surfer girl. What caught him by surprise was, despite the dialogue being garbled, the jock could easily hear the sounds of sobbing. Upon hearing footsteps coming upstairs and entering Bridgette's room, Tyler became concerned and decided that it was time to speak to the surfer girl.

"Bridgette?" gently called Tyler as he knocked on her door. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Please," cried the surfer girl, "come in."

Slowly opening the door and then closing it behind him, the jock was shocked to see the girl he recently had feelings for crying in her hands, and for what reason, he's about to find out.

"Bridge? What's wrong?"

Severely teary-eyed, Bridgette sniffled as she tried speaking to Tyler in a tight voice. "Please Ty, you might want to sit down for a moment."

Sitting down on the floor next to her, Tyler grabbed a box of Kleenex and handed it to Bridgette. "Okay, try and calm down Bridge, and I'll try to help you."

After blowing her nose, the surfer girl turned back to the jock. "Ty, when I was on my cell phone, I was talking to Geoff."

"You did? . . . How did the conversation go?"

"It didn't go too bad: He asked me how I was doing and I said I was doing all right, then he apologized for abusing me and told me that he finally stopped drinking."

"That's good to hear. I guess now you two can be back together again right?" Even though he liked Bridgette as more than a friend, Tyler wanted to see her have the best, even if it means going back to her old flame. "I won't have a problem with that."

"No, I'm afraid I can't."

"But . . . for what reason?"

"You won't believe me if I told you."

"Don't worry—I can handle it."

"Well . . . over the month we've been staying with Owen and Izzy, Geoff told me that he has been seeing Lindsay, and has promised her that he'll quit drinking if he wanted to date her."

Surprisingly enough, Tyler didn't feel much anger in hearing about Lindsay going out with Geoff, but he was still taken by surprise. "I can't believe it. Those two going out?"

"It was my fault—all of it. I drove Geoff out of my life!" Bridgette bawled out. "He didn't want to quit for me, but for some other girl."

"Easy Bridge, none of it was your fault. I know exactly how you feel about that, but it doesn't mean he's the only guy for you out there."

"I know, I know, but still . . . he was supposed to be the one for me, like Lindsay was supposed to be the girl for you."

Bridgette then wrapped her arms around Tyler, and all the jock could do was hug the surfer girl back and let her cry on his shoulder.

"There, there, Bridge," consoled Ty, "it's all right. Listen, if you need to be left alone or anything, I can understand."

"No!" Bridge sobbed out, squeezing him tighter. "Please stay Ty. Just hold me a little longer."

After a minute of being in that embrace, Bridgette looked into Tyler's brown eyes, tears running down her face. Just like surfer girl, the jock became lost as he looked into her eyes. Before either of them knew it, the two teens leaned in and shared a soft, lingering kiss just before hugging once again.

"Bridgette! You okay?" called out Owen the next morning. "I knocked on Tyler's door to see if he was all right, but he's not in his room. . . ." The party guy then opened the surfer girl's door with slight weariness. "I was wondering if maybe you . . ." With a gasp and wide eyes, he stared down at the floor for a moment before slowly and awkwardly closing the door behind him. What he saw was quite an astonishing sight: Bridgette cuddled up to Tyler with his arm around her waist, and both of them were still asleep on the floor.

Upon seeing the look on her boyfriend's face as he came down, Izzy became a little concerned. "So, what happened up there, Big O?"

"I . . . I . . . I . . ." stuttered the astonished behemoth.

"Owen, snap out of it." The crazy girl started to click her fingers with a worried tone in her voice.

"Who-what-when-where-why?" the party guy started asking frantically whipping his head from side to side, still in some form of shock before directing his attention back on his girlfriend. "Oh sorry Iz, I was in a state of shock."

"What happened upstairs?"

"Izzy, you're not gonna believe me if I told you."

"Try me, Owen."

"When I was about to ask Bridgette further if she had heard from Tyler, I saw them asleep on the floor together. . . ." The crazy girl's eyes slowly widened at that as he took a moment. . . . "She was cuddled up to him, and he had his arm around her waist."

"Oh . . . my . . . goodness."

"That's what I thought. Uh-oh, I hear them coming downstairs right now. Okay, let's pretend that we heard and saw nothing."

"Right-O."

As Tyler and Bridgette sat down at the table, they were quiet; neither of them looked up and made eye contact with the other.

"Well," said Bridgette, finishing her breakfast, "I'm ready to get going when you are, Owen."

"Yeah," nodded the party guy, "sure thing, Bridgette. We'll see you later Izzy . . . and Tyler."

"Right," frantically nodded the crazy girl, "and I'll be right here."

"I'll just stay," stated Tyler, "and see if I can help out. It's the least I can do."

"Owen, can I tell you something?" asked the surfer girl as the two were down at the soda fountain.

"Sure," answered the obese teen, "I don't see why not."

"Well, remember when I told you and Izzy about Geoff?"

"Yeah?"

"You see, Tyler went into my room and I spilled my heart out to him."

"And?"

"And he just tried to tell me that Geoff going out with Lindsay and quitting his drinking habit for her wasn't my fault. I begged him to stay with me for a little while and I did something that I'll seriously regret."

"What happened?"

"I . . . I kissed Ty."

"And what did he do?"

"Strangely enough, he kissed me back. It was disturbing to know that we were cuddled up on the floor the entire night, his arm around my waist. Rest assure nothing major happened."

"Right, I understand. Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I've been thinking that I'll talk to him about it tonight and that kiss we shared was a big mistake—I mean, we were caught up in a moment or something, you know?"

"Absolutely. Why do you regret it though, Bridgette?"

"Well, I used to date Geoff, and Tyler used to date Lindsay. Hearing that those two are seeing each other . . . well, it's just too ironic and it would leave too many bad memories for both of us. I'll tell him but the only thing is . . . I hope he's able to say it first."

"Izzy," said Tyler with his head in his hands as he still sat down at the dining table, "can I speak to you about something?"

"Such as?" queried the crazy girl. "If it's about the time I fought off the RCMP and lost, I don't wish to talk about it."

"Err . . . no, it's about that conversation Bridgette had with you and Owen last night, remember?"

"Yeah I remember. . . . Wait, how do you know?"

"She told me about it when I went into her room to see if I could comfort her. Anyway, she told me everything about Geoff kicking his drinking habit and starting to date Lindsay, but when she told me that, I wasn't mad at all—just surprised."

"I'm listening."

"Well, she wanted me to stay with her for some time and . . . well for some reason Bridge and I just shared a kiss—that was all, by the way."

"Oh, I figured. Go on."

"Then . . . we just fell asleep. She was cuddled up to me and my arm was around her waist. I'm thinking about apologizing to her and saying that it was a mistake."

"Why?"

"Maybe because of the irony that our old lovers are now dating? You see, the only thing about telling her is . . . I just hope I get to say that kiss was a mistake first."

A few hours after the two couples got back together, nighttime hit them. At the dining table, all was silent; nobody made any kind of eye contact until . . .

"Bridgette?" asked Tyler, clearing his throat.

"Yeah?" queried the surfer girl.

"I have something to tell you that's important."

"Go ahead."

"Well remember the, uh, kiss we shared?"

"Yes?"

"Well . . . I apologize and say that it was all a big mistake."

"Really? I totally agree with you. I'm sorry about it also."

"So, friends still?"

"Absolutely."

All Owen could do was shake his head as he heard the conversation. "Well, enough of that. All right listen up, Ty and Bridge—" he stated in a firm, but gentle tone—"I personally don't care if your old lovers are dating now. Look, it doesn't mean you two can't date each other if you wanted to. Sure it might seem ironic, but there are probably like a thousand other couples in your shoes. Why can't you two just let things happen? I'm not forcing you to date each other, but what I'm saying is that you can't let the past or some coincidence hold you back. And personally, that kiss you two shared? You shouldn't regret that. I suggest you let things happen and go from there. If you two really have feelings for the other, then why don't you two follow your hearts, go on out, and do whatever it is you want for the evening. It's like my grandfather once said: 'You're only young once.' I guess all I could say now is carpe arum—cease the day. Have yourselves a good time and all that, okay?"

After a moment of awkward silence, the jock got up from the table. "You know something? I need to go and get my jacket."

"Right," nodded the surfer girl, "and I need to get my phone."

As the two left upstairs, the party guy looked pleased with himself while Izzy just slyly smirked at him. The crazy girl then put her arms around the back of his neck. "Well now Owen, since when did you become a Tiger all of a sudden?"

"Believe me Izzy," the party guy proudly stated while wrapping his arm around his girlfriend, "I have my moments."

After saying goodbye to the oddball couple, Tyler and Bridgette left for the park. They strolled through it all the while staring at each other and smiling now and then.

"It's rather nice out at night, isn't it?" asked the jock.

"Yeah," agreed the surfer girl, "it certainly is, oddly enough."

"So . . . are you enjoying yourself?"

"Only if you are. Are you?"

"Certainly."

"Me too."

It was then they came across a park bench. Deciding to sit down, they stared at the full moon, shining like a silver coin against black velvet. Without giving it a second thought, Tyler took off his jacket and draped it over Bridgette's shoulders.

The surfer girl looked confused. "What was that for?"

The jock only shrugged. "Just thought you might need it if you'll be cold."

Bridgette smiled. "Thanks Ty."

Tyler couldn't help but smile back himself. "No problem, Bridge."

"The moon's certainly pretty out, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it sure is. However, it can't even compare to your beautiful eyes."

"You really think so?"

"You bet. You know Bridge, I have a confession to make."

"What's that, Ty?"

"Well, it's about the kiss we shared. Remember when I said it was a mistake?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't until a little bit ago that I realized something: It actually wasn't a mistake. What do you think?"

"What do I think? Well, I for one don't regret it either. You know, I must confess that you have really nice eyes yourself."

"Heh, thanks."

"Ty?"

"Yes Bridge?"

"Thank you once again for being there for me when I needed somebody."

"Not a problem. Thanks again for helping me realize something else."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"How to move on and remembering what love is."

"What do you suppose people would think about us being together?"

"All I can is: Let them talk."

The two shared a chuckle before staring deeply into one another's eyes, still smiling.

"Tyler?" asked the surfer girl.

"Bridgette?" inquired back the jock.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Embracing, the two shared a long, soft kiss as the night and everything else around them became silent, wishing the night would last forevermore.

Not a bad story, now was it? And for those of you who still don't know the reason I added Owen and Izzy into the story, I think it's because they serve as a redeemed couple, one that tried to find love again and succeeded (even though they haven't officially reunited yet, as well as the briefly mentioned D/G). Well anyway, don't forget to send me some positive reviews and remember, try not to be so rough, since it's my first time in FanFiction. Hope you enjoyed the story!