7.
Duncan was driving rapidly back to his dorm room. Knowing that DJ and Harold were off at class he would be alone to listen to his special mix. He pulled up into the Dorm's driveway and got out, looking around for a snooping security guard, he walked over and let himself into his hall.
When Duncan reached his room he threw himself on his bed and reached underneath to grab the CD he had so hastily discarded earlier. He started playing the sad love songs and as he teared up he heard a nasally skater voice from the door.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
"Chris?! What the Fuck are you doing in my room?" Duncan yelled as he sprung to his feet.
"Language, Language, Language, my good bro. I came to check up on you, how are things?" The host sat down on Duncan's bed, faking sincerity.
"Well, you're pissing me off because I have no clue what you're-"
"You're mad about Courtney, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Geoff feels the same way about Bridgette, and Trent to Gwen, it's a typical guy thing to-"
"I'm not like them! What makes you think I give a rat's ass about Courtney at all?" Duncan's fury was raising, "Fuck you Chris, I don't care what you say, there's no proof I-"
"Well, Harold's blog says differently," The host whipped out his laptop, "and I quote 'But every time I close my eyes I see my Princess. Where is she? Where is my beautiful, up tight Courtney? If you know, tell me.' End of quote."
"Harold put that on the internet?!?!" Duncan rose up, "Give me that."
"Why do you want my laptop?"
Duncan's fingers rapidly moved across the keyboard, "Well, as Dean you have everyone's schedules... Pottery, nice." In a flash, Duncan leapt out the door and ran across the quad towards the art building.
"This is probably a bad thing," Chris mused, "But, I bet it's going to be Awe-some."
