"God, they won't expel him!" Lindsay laughed. The four girls were in Courtney's backyard, playing croquet and discussing the new kid's devil-may-care attitude. "They'll just suspend him for a week or so!"

"He used a real gun," Heather said coldly. "They should throw his ass in jail."

"No way!" Courtney said – more defensively than she'd intended. But she couldn't help but be impressed with the way the new kid had handled Brady and Scott. "He used blanks," she reminded them. "All he really did was ruin a couple of pairs of underwear – and maybe not even that." She caught Gwen's eye with a grin. "Can you bleach out urine stains?"

Heather ignored Gwen and Lindsay's giggles and continued to stare at her scarlet croquet ball. "You seem pretty amused," she said softly – but still as cold as ever. "I thought you had given up on high-school guys?"

Courtney shrugged, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Never say never," she quipped.

Heather scowled, and hit the red ball in the direction of Gwen's green ball. They connected with a soft clunk. Gwen glanced up at Heather. "So, what's it gonna be, Heather?" she asked. "Are you going to take the two shots, or send me out?"

Heather approached her slowly, an incredulous look on her pretty face. "Did you have a brain tumour for breakfast, Gwen? First you ask if you can be red, knowing that I'm always red." She carefully placed one foot on top of her red croquet ball, which was still touching Gwen's green one, and smacked it hard with the mallet. The green ball went flying off behind a small water feature and landed next to the trees at the bottom of the garden.

It would be a near impossible shot, and they all knew it.

"Shit," Gwen said softly. Heather grinned, lining up her next shot – but this one fell short, making her scowl.

"It's your turn, Gwen."

Gwen shook her head. "No, it's Lindsay's turn." Lindsay obediently took her shot, hitting her yellow ball through a wicket with a squeal. Heather tossed her hair, seemingly composing herself.

"Anyway, I can say 'never' to high-school guys. I've got Alejandro."

Lindsay giggled childishly. "King Alejandro." Alejandro was no king – he was a preppy, somewhat slimy twenty-something who was a student at the local University. To Heather, he served the dual purpose of 'boyfriend' and 'party-invitation-ticket', usually operating under the agreement that she would bring a 'hot Westerberg girl' for one of his equally slimy friends to hook up with. But with the way Heather went on about him, he might as well be royalty.

Heather pursed her lips. "Maybe when you hit maturity you'll understand the diff between a Remington University man like Alejandro and a Westerberg boy like Brady 'Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am' Sweeney."

Lindsay shrugged, unperturbed. "Brady's sweet. Yo Gwen, you're up."

Gwen made her way around the water feature and positioned herself next to the croquet ball. Her friends offered 'encouragement' from the other side of the fountain.

"Easy shot, Gwen," Heather smirked.

"No way, no day," Lindsay shook her head.

"Give it up, girl," Courtney added.

Gwen scowled, and carefully hit the ball. It clanged off the metal clothesline pole, thunked off a tree, and rolled through the wicket. Heather looked astounded.

"God, that was incredible!" Lindsay beamed.

"Holy shit," Courtney added.

Heather narrowed her eyes. "What. A. Shot," she said flatly.

Gwen smiled and made her way back over to the garden. "Your turn, Lindsay."

Lindsay hit her ball towards another wicket, missing it, before looking over at Heather and Courtney with envious blue eyes. "So, tonight's the big night. You two excited?"

Heather pursed her lips. "I'm giving Courtney her shot. Her first Remington party." Heather usually brought Lindsay to these kinds of functions, but for some reason she'd decided to bring Courtney to this one, and now she looked over at her with a threatening grin playing around her mouth. "You blow it tonight, girl, and it's keggers with kids all next year."

"Crap," Courtney sighed. She made to take her shot, but missed, and looked back up at Heather. "So, who's this Topher guy I've been set up with? Witty and urbane pre-lawyer or albino accountant?"

"Don't worry," Heather assured her coolly. "Alejandro says he's very, so he's very." Once again, she smacked her ball into Gwen's. Gwen groaned.

"Why?"

Heather shrugged. "Why not?" She smiled, lined herself up, and slammed Gwen's ball back into the flowerbed. Gwen turned to follow it with a sigh, but luckily, Courtney's mother emerged from the house and interrupted her.

"Lindsay, your mother's here," she called to the girls. Lindsay grabbed her croquet mallet and dug the handle into the ground.

"Come on, whoever wants a ride," she smiled. Heather and Gwen dropped their croquet mallets next to Lindsay's and smiled at Mrs Sawyer as they headed back into the house. Courtney hurried to remove Gwen's ball from the flowerbed, dropping it next to the mallets, and her dad called over to her as he sat down in one of the deck chairs surrounding the table on the patio, Robert Ludlum book open on his knees.

"Take a break, Courtney, sit down."

Courtney smiled and sank into the deck chair next to his, while her mother placed a tray of pâté on the table and joined them. Mr Sawyer smiled at his daughter. "So, what was the first week of Spring Vacation withdrawal like?"

Courtney shrugged. "I don't know, it was OK, I guess."

Mrs Sawyer delicately popped a piece of pâté into her mouth and swallowed it without chewing. "Hey kid, isn't the prom coming up?" She smiled conspiratorially.

Courtney nodded. "I guess." Prom didn't interest her much. It was just another school dance, only this one was pretending to be the 'gateway into the adult world', their first taste of freedom. It had definitely lost its appeal after Courtney had begun attending the kind of parties Heather and Lindsay liked to throw.

Her mother was undeterred though. "Any contestants worth mentioning?"

Come to think of it, prom was a little more appealing after what had happened in the cafeteria this afternoon, and Courtney finally returned her mother's conspiratorial grin. "Maybe. There's kind of a 'dark horse' in the running."

While her mother looked delighted at Courtney's newfound enthusiasm, her father clearly hadn't been paying attention, nose firmly in his book. "Goddamn," he sighed, looking up. "Will somebody please tell me why I read this spy crap?"

Courtney's grin widened. "Because you're an idiot." It was an old joke between them – 'Why do I do this?' 'Because you're an idiot.' The joke had been used less and less frequently as Courtney got older, but it was still a nice occasional reminder of being young and innocent and not even knowing what a clique was.

Her father raised his eyebrows with a goofy grin. "Oh yeah, that's it."

Mrs Sawyer smiled fondly, shaking her head. "You two…"

Courtney grabbed a piece of pâté and chewed it hurriedly. "Great pâté, mom, but I'm going to have to motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight." She got to her feet and headed back into the house.

"Corn Nuts! Don't forget to buy Corn Nuts!" Heather Chandler's voice rang across the parking lot of the 7-11 from the window of her red Volkswagen Cabriolet. Courtney nodded as she tottered through the parking lot on her ridiculous built-for-style-not-comfort high-heels. "And not barbecue!"

"Yes, Heather," Courtney called back as she pushed open the door and her eyesight was assaulted by fluorescent tube lighting. The door swung shut behind her, like a barrier protecting her from Heather's instructions. Dressed-to-massacre in a stylish grey off-the-shoulder jumper and a tight black pinafore dress that hugged her curves, she looked surreally out of place in the Snappy Snack Shack. Courtney headed to the Corn Nuts display and grabbed a bag of dill-pickle flavour, but nearly dropped it upon hearing the voice behind her.

"Greetings and salutations. You going to pull a Big Gulp with that?" Courtney turned, and the boy from the cafeteria grinned back at her. He was still wearing his black gunslinger coat, which was still too big for him, and a lopsided smile that sent her heartbeat into overdrive. Hurriedly recalling everything Heather and Lindsay had ever told her about boys, she leaned back and surveyed him through her dark lashes with a haughty smile.

"No, but if you tell me your name I'll let you buy me a Slushy."

The boy grinned and held out a hand for her to shake. "I'll end the suspense. Duncan Dean, at your service." His nose scrunched up when he grinned, and she noticed that he had a little stud in his left nostril, to match the barbell in his eyebrow.

Courtney shook his hand with a giggle. "So, Duncan Dean. You know your convenience store-speak pretty well."

Duncan laughed. "I've been moved around all my life; Markham, Trout River, Quebec, Toronto, Muskoka Ontario, there's always a 7-11. Any town, any time, I can pop a Ham and Cheese in the microwave and feast on a Turbo Dog." He tapped his forehead with a wink. "Keeps me sane."

"Really?" Courtney challenged. "That thing in the caf today was pretty severe."

Duncan shrugged. "The extreme always makes in impression," he said wisely. "But you're right, it was severe." He reached for a plastic cup. "Did you say a Cherry or Coke slushy?"

"I didn't," Courtney smirked. "Cherry." Duncan grinned right back at her.

After paying for their snacks, they left the convenience store, and Duncan leaned against a motorcycle parked by the entrance. Courtney sipped her drink as she admired it. "Great bike." The sound of Heather's car horn blared through the parking lot, and Courtney threw a glare over her shoulder. Heather glared back, making a 'move along' gesture. Maybe it was Duncan's presence, or maybe it was the sugar rush, but something gave Courtney the courage to ignore her and turn back to the boy in the trench coat, who was currently lighting up a cigarette. He smiled at her compliment.

"Just a humble perk from my dad's Construction Company." He took a puff, looking contemplative, before adding, "Or should I say Deconstruction Company?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Duncan shrugged. "My father seems to enjoy tearing things down more than putting things up. Seen the commercial? 'I'm Big Bud Dean, and if it's in your way I'll make your day!'"

"Right!" Courtney said excitedly, recognising the jingle. "Then he pulls the plunger and the screen blows up –" she noticed the way Duncan's face had settled into icy indifference, and it was a second before she realised what was wrong. "Wait… that's your dad?"

"In all his toxic glory," Duncan said lightly, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. He shrugged, and the warmth returned to his voice. "But everyone's life's got static. Or is your life perfect?"

Courtney snorted. "Oh, sure, I'm on my way to a party at Remington University with the most popular girl in school." The car horn sounded again, and she winced. "No, my life's not perfect," she sighed, holding up a hand with two fingers to Heather. Two minutes. From the lack of sound of compressed air, Heather seemed placated. "I don't really like my friends."

Duncan laughed, tapping the ash off his cigarette. He had a nice laugh. Nothing about it was faked, and it was a nice change. "I don't really like your friends either."

"It's like…" Courtney made a frustrated noise as she searched for the right words, "they're people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit."

Duncan's laughter died down, and he looked her seriously in the eyes. "Maybe it's time you took a vacation."

Courtney's detour to talk to Duncan meant that they were fashionably late to the party. Heather led her through hallways and up stairs until they arrived at the correct dorm on the first floor. Alejandro was waiting for them outside, and didn't waste any time in wrapping an arm around Heather's waist and leading the two girls into the cramped, eclectically tacky dorm room. Music was pounding through the entire building, meaning they had to shout to be heard. Two boys were sitting on a cluttered desk, chatting it up. They both wore polyester shirts and worn corduroys; Courtney and Heather's high-couture clothes stood out here.

Alejandro pointed to a bed piled high with various jackets and sweaters. "Throw your coats on the bed, girls."

As Courtney removed her black pea coat, she caught a snippet of the conversation of the boys on the desk.

"That exam was so bogus."

"Oh, I know… which exam?"

Courtney could already feel the headache coming on. It got worse when Alejandro pointed to the first boy, who had brown hair pushed back off his forehead. "Courtney, this is Topher. Topher, this is Courtney, Heather's friend I told you about."

Topher slid off the desk, eyes already flicking up and down Courtney's body. "Excellent," he laughed, and Courtney gave an uncomfortable smile. "So, did you girls bring your partying slippers?"

Heather tossed her perfectly curled black hair. She wasn't wearing her scrunchie tonight. "Yeah," she laughed. "Let's party." Courtney frowned. Heather's voice was still cool and confident, but she sounded the most uncomfortable Courtney had ever heard her. It was nothing more than a tiny waver in her laugh, but still, it made Courtney tense up.

Alejandro laughed and nudged Topher. "She loves to party." Topher grinned and whispered something to Alejandro that made both of them snarl off a laugh. Courtney forced her smile to stay in place.

For Heather. I'm doing this for Heather.