Treacherous

Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama series, any lyrics to any of Taylor Swift's songs, or anything else copyrighted.

A/N: As I'm on summer vacation at the moment, I'm going to be updating very frequently, maybe twice a day just in the beginning to get some bulk out of the way. Anyways, here's the first chapter, enjoy!

Chapter 1 – Anger Over Pity, Any Day

I was sulking.

I didn't like to use the word. It wasn't very becoming, nor lady-like. But as I sat at the edge of the woods, alone, thinking about how I'd almost been voted off on my first day on the island, there really wasn't another word for it.

The day before had been awful – one of the worst days of my entire life at that point. I was a Hernandez. Fear was frowned upon – natural to possess, but expected to be tucked away and never displayed, because it demonstrated weakness. My politician father used to tell me "Weakness makes us look like fools. That is how dynasties fall." My mother was always quick to agree with him, having me repeat the quote to her each time she had won a big court case.

And yet, I couldn't do it. I couldn't jump off the cliff. Growing up a Hernandez, I could count on one hand everything I was truly afraid of. Heights, one of the more irrational fears, was number four on my list.

I had let my team down because I was afraid of falling.

I could've apologized or admitted my fear, like D.J. did, but those reactions came so unnaturally; I spent years having them removed from my psyche as potential social responses, many thanks to my parents. Instead, when I got backed into a wall, I tended to go kicking and screaming, growing quick-tempered and saying the first thing that came to my mind.

Thus, with a chicken hat upon my head and my teammates looks of disapproval as I met them on the beach for the second part of our challenge, I spat out some nonsense about my CIT-ing experience from the summer before, and it stuck, becoming my main defense for the day and undoubtedly irritating my teammates. I had never gotten off on the wrong foot with so many people at one time.

It was a muggy morning, the beginning of July, and I was debating ending my session of feeling sorry for myself by finding some solace in the main lodge for breakfast or the lake for a swim when I heard a large, thumping set of footsteps approach me. I was torn between wanting to wallow in my misery alone or be comforted by a teammate, so I chose to stay seated on the fallen tree trunk I had been resting on and to wait to see what the on-comer's intentions were. Maybe, a small voice in the back of my mind said hopefully, it's a team member coming to tell you everything is okay.

It was, in fact, the opposite.

"Great plan, princess." I heard the juvenile delinquent's sarcastic drawl coming from maybe a foot behind me. "Next time we'll be sure to vote for you to be Queen of the Project again."

I sighed, and stood up, readying myself to leave. As if I wasn't feeling bad enough already. "Project Manager, Duncan," I emphasized, refusing to look at him. "And the whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

"Uh, no, I'm pretty sure all the parts make up the whole," he said, in a tone that sounded like he was talking to a stupid person.

"It's an expression, Duncan." I began the short trek back to camp, and, to my vast annoyance, he fell in step beside me. "It means that the team as a whole is more important than any individual." I sighed for a second time, wondering why exactly I was quoting Aristotle to a criminal.

He was quiet for a moment, and just when I thought he would leave me to mope in peace, he opened his mouth again, "Ahh, so I get it. It means that even when you're responsible for a screw up, you don't have to own up to it."

"No, it doesn't, it just-" I started to protest. My self-pity was quickly turning into anger.

He cut me off. "Gotta remember that the next time I run a bank heist. Thanks, chicken wing." He winked at me and sped up, heading into the lodge.

"I- you- ugh- come back here." I growled, shaking my head and following him inside. There was no way I was letting him have the last word on this matter, when he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Just because I could put the blame on myself, doesn't mean anyone else had that right.

I was right behind him, huffing, as he approached Chef Hatchet for breakfast. "Two bowls of white slop, please." He said, ignoring me.

I was momentarily thrown off, as I watched him take a bowl in each hand and turn around to find a seat. "You like that pig feed enough to eat two whole bowls of it?" I asked incredulously. I was sure I didn't see him touch his dinner the night before. Not that I was paying any attention to him then.

"Definitely not," he replied coolly, surveying the mess hall. "One of them's for you." And then he took off again, finding two empty seats at the Bass table, and setting down a bowl of what looked like watery oatmeal in front of each. He then proceeded to sit down and eat his, leaving the seat beside him open for me.

I thought about asking Chef for my own bowl, but when I turned around to face him, he was glaring daggers, kitchen knife in hand. Sighing and pretty hungry from getting through most of yesterday without eating, I resigned to sit next to Duncan in silence, trying a scoop of the oatmeal. It tasted like watery cement, and I grimaced when I swallowed, deciding that I wouldn't take another bite.

Duncan watched, amused. I turned and glared at him. "I am perfectly capable of getting my own breakfast, you know."

"Of course, you are, princess," he smirked again, and I had the sudden urge to slap it off his face. "I just figured you'd appreciate a little extra help, what with the lack of the servants you're used to around here."

"Stop calling me that," I said through gritted teeth. "I am not a princess. I am Courtney."

"Sure, sure, whatever floats your boat, princess."

I was about to stand up and yell, but I took a deep breath, and thought that it wasn't worth it.

To my surprise, he stayed quiet for the next few minutes, smirking into his oatmeal, as other campers slowly made their way into the lodge for breakfast. When Geoff and D.J. joined the table, he shifted his body away from me to talk to them about the bunks, what to do with their day off, and Harold's snoring. I eventually gave up on my gruel, and made my way back to our cabin.

Stupid, annoying boy, I fumed. He just had to come and bother me this morning.

Katie and Sadie were in their swimsuits, towels in hand, when I walked in. "Courtney!" Katie greeted me happily. "Sadie and I were just about to go meet Bridgette at the dock to swim and tan and stuff. Do you want to join us?"

"Sure," I smiled, glad that the two of them had been too busy with their poison ivy rashes the day before to harbor any hard feelings towards me.

As I walked out of the cabin dressed in my swimsuit five minutes later, I couldn't help but feel grateful that arguing with Duncan had seemingly pushed my self-criticisms to the very back of my mind. And immediately after, I did the same with all thoughts of him.