"Mrs. Simmons, I told you — visiting hours are over. You have to go home now. I'm sorry," Nurse Cindy said for the third time.
Samantha flashed a stony look towards the irritated nurse. "I'm not finished having a conversation with — ," she spoke icily.
"I understand, but you can continue talking with your daughter tomorrow." She took out the ballpoint pen from inside her breast pocket. "Please leave."
The mother nodded grudgingly. She stood up from the chair and leaned down to her daughter's ear. Cindy heard whispers wafting out of the woman's mouth. Samantha pushed the chair back to its prior location. Her head turned back to her daughter, and she smiled weakly.
Although Cindy held a bit of resentment towards Samantha, she couldn't help but feel somewhat sympathetic towards her. She knew if she showed that she did feel sympathetic, however, Samantha wouldn't be pleased. The last thing she needed was pity from a total stranger.
Without a word or a glance, Samantha walked past Cindy sluggishly. As she past by, not a single emotion was gliding around in her eyes. Her gray orbs matched its color: dullness.
The door closed.
Now in solitude — with the exception of the comatose patient before her — she inhaled the still air tangled with pressure. Somehow, it constricted a part of her deep inside, and she stopped breathing in the air. She exhaled and began checking up on the patient.
As she checked up on the IV bag, her eyes sneakily streamed over to the patient. Despite the oxygen mask, Cindy could see her face clearly. Her tanned skin was lighter with paleness. She could tell that she was a pretty girl, but it was the type of beauty that wasn't eye-catching. It was pleasant and simple. She had a natural beauty.
She wondered what color her eyes were since she never saw them. She wondered what the girl was like, too. Was she shy? Was she pretentious?
She snapped back into focus, shaking her head as if to shake off the questions bugging her mind.
She wondered if she'd ever know.
"Why did I ever become a nurse?" Cindy mumbled to herself. She shook her head and slapped her cheeks twice, hoping to drive away the tiredness consuming her.
She completed her daily checkups and wrote down all the necessary information on the clipboard for Dr. Ramirez. After that, she let out an exhale filled with relief and started for the door.
As she was about to head out, she took one last glimpse at the unconscious girl. Her eyebrows crinkled together. She blew out a breath, muttering incoherent sentences underneath her breath. She fully exited the room, the door closing with a soft shut.
The patient's hand twitched.
his presence beat the sun
Wide blue eyes were fixated on the side of Courtney's skull.
Courtney's hands were clasped together, now squeezing the life out of each other. Her dark gray eyes wandered around the room, seeing absolutely nothing, because her focus was somewhere else. She had trouble resisting the yearning to bolt up from the bed, smash her ear to the door, and eavesdrop in Duncan and Yvonne's conversation.
The minute they had been caught by her, Yvonne quickly ushered Duncan out of the room, taking quick, short glances at Courtney. That left her with Natasha, who had been staring curiously at her for a long period of time. It was extremely uncomfortable.
Promptly, Courtney looked at her peripheral vision and saw that Natasha's focus was now on her legs, which were swinging back and forth. Her posture was bent forward, shoulders up just beneath her ears, and a harmonious expression was on her face.
She gazed at the door again and groaned quietly. She mimicked Natasha's position except she didn't swing her legs.
What are they talking about? she yelled internally.
"What's your name?" an adorable voice piped up.
The mocha-haired girl's head craned up fast, and she inclined her attention to Natasha, whose blue eyes were sparkling with purity and curiosity.
"I'm Courtney."
"Oh, I'm Natasha." She grinned toothily at her — which was ironic considering the fact she was missing two front teeth.
Yes, I know, she thought.
"Are you Duncan's person?"
Her brown eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Are you Duncan's person?" she repeated without impatience. "'Cause every time a girl is with Duncan, he always calls her 'his person.' I think so. I think it was the other another word; it started with a letter B! Maybe it was beach … "
Duncan, you moron. "No, actually, I dated Duncan before — which is now, though I can't really elaborate on the matter, for I have no idea what the hell is going on. I woke up on his bed, saw him shirtless, and everything went downhill from there. It's shocking to believe that I'm being so civil to him, because I despise his freakin' guts with every fiber in my being. He kissed me, and I allowed it — but I still hate him. I think. I don't know. It's confusing; he's confusing.
"So, no, I'm not Duncan's person. I'm not like those other whores he brought in to … play around with. I will never, ever, ever be like them, nor will I allow myself to be like them for the likes of him, the jackass who killed my heart and cheated on me with the girl I thought I would never be friends with."
But she wasn't an idiot, so she didn't say that.
Slowly, she answered, "In a way … I'm Duncan's person. I'm, uh — I'm his girlfriend." She didn't know why she said that, but if she said she was his girlfriend, it would clear up some confusion and seem more feasible.
A grin rivaling the Grinch's spread out on her small face. "That's cool!" But then she pouted. "But … Duncan never told me he had a very, very pretty person."
"Girlfriend," Courtney corrected, smiling slightly. "And thank you."
The four-year-old giggled adorably. "Oh! Right!" She giggled again. "Oh, oh, oh! And you're very welcome, Courty!"
"Courty" didn't bother amending her mistake. She was surprised to see that she was having a conversation with a little kid — willingly, no less. She had interacted with children around her age and younger, but that was when she volunteered to help out at a daycare for extra credit. Little kids irked her to no end, always whining if they didn't get what they wanted and creating ounces of messes. But Natasha was so innocent and precious that she couldn't help it.
Natasha began talking animatedly about what she liked to do in her spare time. Courtney listened attentively, though she took advantage of this time to observe her appearance. Back then, when she had visited, she hadn't paid any attention whatsoever to the little girl. She had only smiled politely and instantly struck a conversation with Duncan's parents.
Duncan's little sister had extremely long hair. It cascaded down her back — she pictured a black waterfall shimmering from the moonlight beautifully — in a straight motion, messily resting on the bed, her lap, and over her shoulders. She had beautiful teal eyes just like Duncan's, but Courtney thought while Duncan's glinted with rebelliousness and a knowing look, Natasha's glowed with, as said earlier, innocence and something genuine. She had a beauty mark just below the corner of her right eye. She was very small in stature.
A pang of guilt bothered her. Why did it take her only now to notice this? Why couldn't she take the time to actually see everything?
The carved-up door opened and in came Yvonne with Duncan in tow, a neutral expression on. Yvonne stopped walking until she was right in front of Courtney. Duncan moved past her, sending an inconspicuous wink towards the former C.I.T., lifted up Natasha — who squealed ear-piercingly — and sat down, Natasha on his lap comfortably.
The sight was so foreign to her, Duncan being all brotherly.
Yvonne inhaled deeply and exhaled. She bit her lip, foot tapping on the floor lightly. She furtively looked at Courtney who returned the gaze calmly, but in the inside, she was panicking and wondering what she was thinking.
"C'mon, the suspense is killing me!" Duncan joked.
Yvonne sent him a glare.
Courtney couldn't take it anymore. She didn't like the asphyxiating silence. "So, what're you going to do?" she asked.
The nanny rubbed her temples, yawning. "Well, this is a lot to take in," she said, wrinkles showing dominantly.
Duncan snorted. "You're making it seem like I knocked her up."
"Duncan!" Yvonne and Courtney scolded simultaneously, but the latter's tone was sharper.
Yvonne then glanced at the girl again, a smile making its way on her lips. She eyed her penetratingly; it was like she was searching deeply inside of her system or her soul. She let out a small laugh, and a big smile appeared, as well as her laugh lines.
"Despite all of this," she informed her, "I like you, sweetie. I have a feeling that you can control this unbearable piece of handsome right here." She shook her head. "This boy doesn't know how to follow the rules or follow one simple task! It's like he needs a 24/7 surveillance camera installed everywhere he goes just to keep a lookout on him!"
Duncan winked at her. "You know you love me, Vonne."
She smiled at him.
Natasha peered up at him, grinning widely. "I love you, Duncan!" she exclaimed.
He chuckled and gently gave his little sister a noogie on the head. A soft look flitted across his features, making Courtney want to smile at the view. "Love you, too, midget."
She giggled, and then she looked at Courtney. She pointed at her. "Your girlfriend's super-duper pretty, too! Do you love her?"
A sly look came upon his face. He looked over at Courtney, a smirk creeping on his lips.
Knowing Natasha wasn't looking her way, Courtney slowly narrowed her eyes at him threateningly.
"Courtney, my girlfriend?" he stalled. "Do I love her? Is that what you are asking, little sister? If I love this minx right here?" He nodded his head to Courtney.
Damn you, damn you, damn you, damn you, the aforementioned minx chanted in her head.
"Well … ?" Natasha pressed, voice growing antsy.
"Do I love … Courtney?" He pursed his lips, staring right at her face.
Anxiousness flew inside of her. She didn't understand why she was feeling anxious over a question that shouldn't be asked. They weren't together — not anymore but not yet here —and she was content with that. It wasn't like she still had any leftover feelings for him. It was hard to since this Duncan was different than the one she was accustomed to. How could she feel anything for him, then?
But she speculated what his answer might be. What did he feel for her? He had kissed her earlier, and she knew for a fact that he didn't just give kisses away. His kisses always meant something — to her, anyways. He wouldn't just kiss her unless he wanted to (which was, like, 98% of the time), needed to, couldn't help it (which was, again, 98% of the time), did it to comfort her; annoy the hell out of her; and so on and so forth. There were a plethora of reasons on why he would kiss her out of nowhere.
Everything people did had its reasons — some obvious and some clandestine.
Finally, Duncan shrugged. "I don't know," he replied, tone unknown to her ears.
Why did it feel like her heart clenched so tightly when he said that?
As if she were sensing the tight feeling in the room, Yvonne laughed shortly and smiled hugely. She grabbed Natasha's hand gently and pulled her down from Duncan's lap.
"Well, this little bug needs to go to sleep," she told them. "Heaven knows why she suddenly woke up at two in the morning. Her sleeping patterns are bizarre if you ask me."
She turned to Courtney, still smiling.
"And, dear, I won't ask any further on why you're staying over at Duncan's room. You're his girlfriend, and there must be something going on that I have no business in whatsoever, hm? Just make sure you fix whatever you need to fix up soon before your parents call the cops — which might very well be Duncan's parents, and that'll combine in with some upcoming conflicts." She tsked three times. "Worry not, though, Courtney — mum's the word."
Natasha made an action of sealing her lips, locking it, and pocketing the key. She nodded and grinned brightly. Her eyes widened, blue and green, and she shut her mouth close. She retained a pretty smile.
Courtney tried her best not to blurt out that she wasn't his girlfriend. She didn't want to be, not now, not ever. "Thank you very much, Yvonne, Natasha," she said graciously. "This means so much."
Duncan scooted over to her, putting his arm around her shoulder. She felt like pushing him off the bed. "Yeah, uh, thanks. Hey, can you bring up some food for us? I'm freakin' starving, man."
"What's the magic word, mister?" Natasha demanded; all of a sudden, she sounded vehement.
He ignored her.
Yvonne sent him a warning glance.
He sighed irritably. "Please?" he added dully.
Natasha smiled smugly to herself while Yvonne nodded in approval. They both left, Natasha whispering giddily to Yvonne and sneaking conspicuous glances to the "couple" sitting on the bed along the way.
As soon as the door closed, Duncan let out a slight chuckle and Courtney blew out a huge breath. He took his arm off of her. He nudged her with his elbow two times and pinched her side. He was smirking profoundly.
"Girlfriend, huh?"
"Shut it! I had to think of something."
He fell back on the bed nonchalantly. Courtney twisted around from her position to interact with him properly. His arms were behind the back of his head, and he stared relaxingly at the ceiling. Without thinking, she fell back, too, joining him. She rested by him, hands on her abdomen. He faced her, waggling his unibrow.
"Ooh, implyin' something' there?"
"If you mean I will personally suffocate you with a pillow, then you're right." She sent him a sweetly wicked smile.
"Pfft! That's freakin' twisted right there." His fingers temptingly stroked the front of her hand. "But I know you want some of me. Or all of me. Not complainin' there, 'cause … I want you."
Courtney tried her hardest not to shiver in temptation. She also tried to ignore the alluring touching her with his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him hazardously and smacked his hand away from her. In the process, she scooted away from.
"What was that kiss for?" she demanded.
He grinned cheekily. "For you."
She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Charming. Now, really, tell me what that kiss was for. You don't just kiss people for no apparent reason, you know. You always have a reason. Hell, you always have a reason for everything you do, everything you say." She thought about his unfaithful action during Total Drama World Tour. She inwardly winced and kicked away the memory, that heartbreaking memory.
"It's kinda weird for you to know a lot about me. And hey, everyone does something for a reason. We don't just do things and don't know why. Reasons are natural, Princess." A serious look was taking its place on his normally rebellious ones. "Maybe I kissed you, because I wanted to. Obviously I'm attracted to you. Attraction can do strange things to people."
"Oh, so your attraction to Gwen made you suck face with her, then," she spat coldly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Gwen? Who's Gwen?"
Crap. When Courtney remembered that awful memory, lingering traces of rage rose up inside her being. It occurred every time the memory mischievously entered her thoughts. So with that being said, she may or may not snap at you for no reason (but for this circumstance, the reason was the memory) or suddenly be all dramatic. It just came out, and it was hard to stop it. Admittedly, her anger was hard to control.
She averted his questioning gaze. "No one. She's nothing." Her emphasis on the last word was accidentally spat out.
He pressed on. "Doesn't seem like 'nothing.' Who is she?" He paused. "Wait, do I know her? Did I date her or something?"
"I can't answer your questions, because she's nothing, all right? Explaining something that is nothing shouldn't be explained at all. So forget it, and let's just change the topic already." She certainly didn't want to discuss about that slut.
A scowl was now plainly on his features. "You know, you like to avoid some questions a lot. I think it's time you did your answering. Like who the hell is Gwen and what relationship I have or had with her."
She clenched her teeth. "I told you," she spoke between them, "she is nothing! She is no-thing! Nothing!"
"She sure is something if you keep having that nasty tone on."
She sat up quickly, an agonizing vertigo circling around her head. She shook it off. "Fine, you want to know who she is? She's just a slut, nothing more but for sure something less," she sneered. She visioned a picture of the Goth freak's face and darts all over it.
He joined her position. "What, you guys like mortal enemies or something? Is she really a slut?"
"To me, she is."
"So she's not."
Even when he didn't know her now, he defended her. It angered her even more. "Of course you'd defend her! You're with her now! She's all you care about now! I don't know what you see in that trashy Goth, so I'll assume that you are blind! Your eyes are clouded by the lust over her breasts! Because everything you'd fuck has to come with breasts, right?"
He looked mad now. "What the fuck are you — ?"
She held up a tense finger. "No! I'm not finished! Tell me, what is it about her that you like? That made you throw me away so coldly? Was it because you two have more in common? Was it because you get along with her better than we do? Was it because she understands you more? Was it because she's prettier? Was it because she's better than me?" Her tone kept on escalating and escalating. "What made you kiss that whore of a Goth, huh, Duncan? What made you like her? How the hell was she better than me? How? What made you stop loving — ?"
Realization dawned on her face. She couldn't believe she lashed out on Duncan about something that never happened yet. He didn't even know what the heck she was yelling about. He didn't deserve it yet. She was being stupid, incredibly so.
Why did she yell the words, the sentences, she so desperately wanted to yell at the two-timing asshole at him, the genuine version she had fallen in love with?
Because he's the only one I can open up to. Because I can only open up to the one I fell in love with, not the jerk who's busy playing with Goth sluts.
"I cheated on you."
Her eyes didn't widen. She didn't feel a zap of shock. She was numb to the core.
He faced down, eyes solemn and dark.
Slowly, the words she really, really, really wanted to ask him came pouring out: "Why would you do that to me?"
The same reply hit her in the face. "I'm sorry." He whispered it so softly.
Someone knocked on the door two times. "Duncan, Courtney," Yvonne said from behind. "I've heated up some food for you both. It's only one plate, because I need to wash the dishes again and, Duncan, your parents are here, eating." Her tone lowered down, but Courtney could still hear her. "So there was only one plate left … Duncan? Courtney? I'm coming in now."
Neither of the two moved a single muscle when she entered the room, holding a plate of steaming hot food. She saw the two on the bed, and her cheeks were painted a shade of red. She let out a quick apology and set the plate on top of Duncan's desk. Hastily, she exited the room.
Courtney didn't move from her spot, but Duncan got off the bed and sauntered over to his desk. He pushed his computer chair to the bed. He grabbed the plate and sat down on the chair. He placed the plate on the bed carefully. He opened the folded napkin, which contained two pairs of spoons and forks. He took one pair and began picking at his food.
"You want some? Yvonne made her special chicken stir-fry," he said, not a glance of teal directed her way.
Her nostrils were suddenly embraced by the sweet, scrumptious air coming from the stir-fry. A growl came from her stomach, making her feel warm in the face. She spotted a slight quirk at the edges of Duncan's lips and scowled. She slowly got off the bed so the plate wouldn't spill on it. She walked over to him and leaned down, inhaling the delectable aroma. Duncan held up the other set of utensils, and Courtney received it, the tips of her fingers brushing the front of his hand.
At first, she was hesitant. She wasn't sure if she should just be devouring the food. It was Duncan's own, anyway. But Yvonne brought another pair of utensils for her, so she could eat it.
She internally scolded herself for being so doubtful. This wasn't like her.
She held her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken. She brought it to her mouth. Her taste buds activated, and she really wanted to moan out in utter delight. Eagerly, she stabbed another piece along with some sliced green peppers and ate it. The moan was crawling up her throat, tempting her and tempting to just have bit of the sound sneak out.
Oh my goodness, this tastes so delicious! Oh my gosh! Mmmm, it has just the right amount of — oh gosh, this is — ohhhhhhh, yeah. I'm in heaven. I give this dish ten stars! Courtney prattled on in her mind.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were making love to Yvonne's stir-fry," came an amused remark.
Courtney swallowed audibly and ate some more. "Oh, shush," she snapped after she swallowed again. "This stir-fry is just … divine. It's like I'm eating at a high-class restaurant. Yvonne should definitely own a restaurant. Customers would be piling in non-stop!"
"Yvonne used to be a chef when she was younger," Duncan stated out of the blue. He popped a piece of cabbage in his mouth.
She looked at him. "Why did she quit?"
"She preferred taking care of children. She loved cooking, but I guess her love for little brats beat it. One day, she'll open up her own daycare. But for now … " — he winked at her, smirking — "she's stuck with us."
And Lord help her, Courtney thought.
After they were both done eating, Courtney went to brush her teeth again. (It was a bad idea to eat after you just recently brushed your teeth; it'll taste revolting at first.) When she was done, she headed towards the bed Duncan was still occupying. She glared.
"Go brush your teeth!" she ordered. "And I'm sleeping there, remember?"
His eyes stayed close. "Uh-huh," he merely replied.
Her warning tone came out. "Duncan … "
He groaned and got off, sluggishly walking to the bathroom. "All right, all right — quit your bitchin'."
She punched his arm when he passed by.
She then turned to the bed. A yawn rose up her throat and came out loudly. Tears prickled at the edges of her eyes. She wiped them off with the sleeve of the flannels she was donning. She stretched her arms. Afterwards, she climbed onto the bed and nestled into the soft blanket. She sat upright and twisted around. She grabbed the pillow, which smelled a lot like Duncan, and fluffed it four times. She set it back in place and lied down. She sighed contentedly.
Duncan came out of the bathroom with toothpaste foam around his mouth. He saw her relaxing on the bed and rolled his eyes. He retreated back inside.
While she waited for him to finish up, which shouldn't take long, she contemplated on the the past events that had occurred. She became aware of so many aspects, found out about the little things her eyes usually strayed away from, and got to know Duncan more and more as the time went by. She had met and got acquainted with his bandmates. She actually had had a conversation, though short, with Natasha when she wouldn't if she wasn't in this bizarre situation.
Her reverie was interrupted at the sound of the bathroom door closing.
She opened her eyes — she didn't realize that they were closed — and watched Duncan. He walked over to the futon splayed messily on the ground. He bent down, groaning and muttering to himself, and organized the futon.
"Sleep with me."
Why the hell did she say that? And it wasn't even a suggestion; it sounded more like a demand, which Courtney was actually used to saying.
He regarded her, teal eyes big. She was sure she was blushing madly, enough to put tomatoes to shame. Then, he smirked rather profoundly.
"I knew you would give in soon," he said. He got onto the bed and crawled until he was incredibly close to her body. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed his mouth against her ear, hot breath tingling it. "Sucks 'cause apparently someone threw away my handy little condom that was hidden in my medicine cabinet."
"I didn't throw it away. I flung it away."
"Oh, so you admit it?"
She pushed him away and pulled her knees to her chest. She rested her chin on them. Her onyxes trailed over to him gradually, curiosity and seriousness mixing together.
"Tell me about Amy," Courtney whispered. "I want to know about her."
A dark look appeared on his features. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why? You don't tell me anything."
She sighed. "I'll tell you what you want to know about whatever and whoever, all right? But that's only if you complete your end of the bargain. It's only fair."
He stared at her intently. It seemed to be as if he was debating on whether or not he should agree to this bargain of hers. He let out a low breath and leaned back against the headboard of his bed. He lifted his head up towards the ceiling, focusing his attention on it.
"What do you wanna know?"
Duncan told her how he and Amy met, which was through Jake. Before Rick had joined the band, Amy had been the band's drummer. Apparently she had been a really good drummer, and her drumming skills had attracted Duncan greatly. The two had hit if off after they had performed at a club. He had enjoyed his time with her and had gotten along with her pretty well.
But Duncan had started to feel slightly uncomfortable when Amy had gotten all clingy and jealous. He had hated that; clingy, jealous girls was a major turn-off for him. At first, he had shrugged it off — it had been a normal emotion for him. Soon, whenever he would interact with a female, she would snap and snap like a crazy bitch. One time, he had been on the phone with someone, and she had gotten all furious with him. That someone had been his freakin' cousin.
So when Amy had said "I love you" to him, Duncan had reached his breaking point. He had told her off, yelling how she could be so jealous and so annoying. And of course, Amy had taken it the wrong way.
They never became friends.
Amy still hung out with the other band members, because she was friends with them. From time to time, she would try to strike a conversation with Duncan, but he'd always ignore her.
The duo lay on the bed in silence, completely at ease. Duncan was now situated on the bed, head on pillow, arms behind it. Courtney was lying beside him on her side. If she were to move a couple of inches more to her right, she would be cuddling with him — which she wouldn't dare do.
"So I used to date this Gwen chick, huh?" Duncan mused quietly.
Hearing him utter her name brought a painful tug to her heart.
"Yes, you do," Courtney murmured.
"Do?"
"You're dating her now."
"I don't understand. Why the hell would I cheat on you? I … " He trailed off. "Courtney, I may do a lot of illegal things and say pretty heartless shit, but … man, I don't cheat. I was always against that; it's a freaking messed up thing to do to someone."
She stifled the tears threatening to come out. "I don't know, Duncan. Why would you? Why would you, huh? You never told me. You never gave me a proper explanation … You never … " An insubordinate tear poured down. "Crap." She wiped it off roughly.
He was quiet for a moment until: "Honestly," he began, "I don't see why I would even think about cheating on you."
The C.I.T. felt his warm hand rub her arm soothingly, fingertips leaving goosebumps over her skin.
"You may be an uptight pain in the ass, but you're a good person. You can take care of yourself. You're determined. And I gotta admit, Princess … You sure can kick some serious ass." He squeezed her arm. "I dig that."
Duncan, I miss you, she mentally whispered.
"Courtney, you're a one of a kind for real."
I miss you so much.
She was now cuddling with him.
She didn't mind.
TBC –
jysk:
we all miss him, courtney. we all do.
& it's almost finished, guys.
'cause i gots a new storeh in mind ~
