Yay! An update. Didn't take as long as you thought, eh? I'm thinking the same thing. I'm extremely happy with how this one came out! A few things I would've rather had done, but I was too excited to post it up that I didn't bother with those.
Also This chapter only has 5 POVs. I realized this was what was slowing me down with updates-the fact that I felt the need to put in at least nine to ten POVs, and that I put too many of the plots into one part. So in this one, not only are the POVs better but also longer. 4 of them were around two to three pages on Word though the last one was only half a page. Sorry 'bout that.
Disclaimer: I do not own TDI.
Enjoy!
"Uh, got a four?" He adjusted his cowboy hat, and cocked his head sideways.
Cody smirked and stood, then pointed a direct finger at Geoff. "HA! Go fish! Jump in a lake! HAHA!"
I slapped my forehead. People stared at them. Go figure.
Duncan (Thursday, 4:30pm)
My father was already there. Guilty, staring, with apologetic eyes. I'm sorry, son, he would've said if he wasn't too awestruck to speak, I'm sorry I was such an idiot.
The supposed officer-guy grunted then shoved me into one of the last two empty chairs that sat around the metal table. He took the last seat, and the one at the end started.
He looked at me first. "You're here for a reason, you know."
I knew.
It was dark. A mere quarter-sized hole was broken through the wall near the top, and that's where most of our light came from. And the room was so cramped it wasn't even funny. It made it impossible to breathe, which was hard enough already when you're trapped in the same ten-foot diameter as four other intimidating-looking men.
One wrong move and it's straight to the slammer for you, you delinquent.
Unless that's what they were planning from the start.
The man who spoke first, who I stereotypically predicted to be the main chief because of his uniform, coughed then began again. "Your father made a wrong move."
I knew that too.
"Because he cared about you."
I pretended not to crack. If it weren't for my too-good reputation, I would've exploded.
"Because he didn't want you stuck in jail for the next few years. You're a good man, Duncan, we know that, we've been tracking you for awhile now and been following your rather extensive criminal records. You're just confused. Very confused. But you're smart too. Like your parents, most of the time. You would've had a promising career if only you weren't so blind. But ironically, you pulled your father who always tried talking you out of it, into this mess too-"
I knew what he was going to say.
"-because you made a wrong move."
I breathed, than answered him. "That's not really something new though, is it?" I guess it was pretty idiotic to say something witty at my current scenario, but it was hard not to let them see through my mask.
I mean, I knew they wanted me to feel guilty.
And no brainer-I was. More than I ever wanted to be. He was right-my father who often stuck around the good terms of things was suddenly screwed over, just because of me. And mom-she probably didn't even know we were downtown.
But I'd been in jail-no, juvey-before. Only this time, I felt actual shame.
Shame.
"I'm sorry, Duncan. But you and your father will be taken to court for breaking the law and escaping the punishment when you caused yourself another year behind bars," he stood, then motioned for his men to drag us out.
What hurt the most was that I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Or turn to my father and tell him that I was sorry.
How pathetic could I get?
"Wait, sir," the metal door swung open and a familiar voice insisted, "I apologize for barging in, but is this totally fair?"
Caught of guard, the chief looked up, and at the sight of the straight-to-the-point young lady, stuttered. "Y-yes, it's the law."
Courtney placed a hand to her hip, and grabbed a notebook. She flipped a few pages before looking back up. "If I'm not mistaken, you said Duncan could've had a promising career, if he changed his ways. How is he supposed to now that he's going back to the place he was avoiding, ever since he came here?"
Chief was bewildered. "How did you know I said that?"
"Not to be rude or anything, but I heard the whole thing from outside."
"Rats," he muttered.
She flipped a few more pages, and continued. "Let's put it this way, one day, Duncan is going to have finished highschool, get into a good college, and be very successful. And when someone asks him how he did it, he'll say 'because someone gave me a break'. And maybe, he'll even throw your name in there in place of 'someone'."
"Possibly, but-"
"Wouldn't you like that?" She read his thoughts; then again, everyone knew the chief enjoyed some credit, sometimes being a pushover for it.
The chief was almost speechless. "You drive a hard bargain, Evans. But it's still not enough-"
"And by the look on Duncan's face, sir, I think the guilt you caused was punishment enough. You should let him go," Courtney glanced at Mr. Mackenzie and added, "you should let them both go."
He bit his lip, gave a thought or two, then looked back to his men. From his uniform pocket, he grabbed out a walkie-talkie, and muffled his words. The three-rest of us just stared at watched, occasionally passing eachother anxious glances. Then he turned back to us.
"I remind you, that the solution to this problem has never been an exception with the law," he said slowly. I wanted him to get on with it. "But that was a talk with the city council. Duncan, you get your break. Johnny, you're sticking around."
Courtney was ecstatic. "Woo! Hear that, Duncan? No slammer for you anymore!" And she wrapped her arms around me, before pulling away embarrassed.
Chief glared at us. "If you aren't out there in a hurry, I may change my mind."
And so we were kicked out of the station and heading back home.
I was first to talk, starting down at the ground as we walked. "Why did you come for me anyway?"
"For the play, Duncan. Boscarino would've cancelled for sure if you had to bail out, and no play means no extra credit. Besides-"
I didn't reply, and Courtney took notice of it. "Oh, so, no 'thank you' or anything, huh? I saved your immature butt out there, and you don't even-"
"My father's still in there, Princess."
She looked up at me, and bit her lip.
I went on. "Since I got him into enough trouble already, I'm going to break him out. And no one, is going to stop me. Got it?"
Courtney sighed, and replied, "I wasn't going to. If there's anyone in the world that makes Duncan Mackenzie feel guilt, then that person's all the worth rescuing," she smirked. "I'm with you."
I brought myself to smile for the first time within the last one and a half hours. Genuine too. "Good."
Bridgette (Thursday, 5pm)
I think Geoff and Cody were getting way too comfortable over here at Vancouver. They acted as though they lived here. Some people even knew them. And for one thing, the fridge was completely empty. I went for groceries just yesterday, too.
Seriously. They didn't even remember they were leaving in a few days. Cody was clogging toilets and Geoff was asking me these odd questions, and they lounged around the house all day. They did help my dad for a few hours everyday, but they spent the rest of their time watching TV, or touring the neighborhood. They sent me weird glances occasionally, and when I asked them what was wrong, they chuckled and pretended they had no idea what I was talking about.
They were hiding something, I was sure.
I didn't even know why they were here.
Alright. So maybe I'd gone ballistic, or overly irritated, but I was so confused, that I threw fits more often. That of course caused an even bigger chaos then I ever wanted, where Cody would go screaming and Geoff would get a little freaked out. My dad would then come in and tell us to keep it down, or else he'd kick us out of the house. He was watching a football game.
That night, he ironically did decided to throw us out for the next few hours, though really, since I had a shift at The West End Café, which was located somewhere around the Coal Harbour, where I worked three days a week, that didn't matter. They insisted on coming along, and I had no choice but to take them, as it was raining and that'd be just plain cruel to leave them there to catch colds. Besides, they were hungry.
We piled into my dad's car and I insisted, even though it caused a quick argument with Geoff who wanted to drive, that I take front seat. I threatened I wouldn't put extra whipped cream onto his hot chocolate if he didn't give in, so he sighed and took the passenger seat next to me. Cody had already crawled into the back. He didn't care as long as we got there.
"Drive faster," he insisted once we were on the road. "I think we're coming in closer contact with the sweet aroma of chocolate pastries."
I stepped on it, and despite all the screaming, we made it there mostly alive.
Cody dashed in there once we parked. Geoff slowed down a bit, as if he was waiting for me as I got my purse from one of the compartments.
"I didn't know you use purses," he told me finally, once we were almost inside.
"All girls do."
"Not all girls. I mean, I thought you didn't."
I felt slightly offended, and it showed in my voice. "And why is that?
He shrugged. "You're not like other girls."
I felt dumbfounded, and froze in my place. What did he mean that?
"Hurry, Bridge!" He grabbed my hand, and pulled me inside. "It's freezing out here."
A light blush came over my cheeks. "I-I…"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"I'd like two club sandwiches please," the elderly woman around her 50's held up two fingers, as she announced her order, "And today's special, yes."
I was daydreaming again.
"Miss? MISS?" She grabbed my shoulders and shook them, and I almost stumbled chin-first onto the counter.
"Oh, so sorry!" I bit my lip as I exaggerated frantically. "That'll be on the house. It won't happen again, I swear."
"It better." An intense glare, and I gulped, and the woman went to her seat to join her husband.
Cody and Geoff played cards at the table farthest to the right, and waved.
"Uh, got a four?" He adjusted his cowboy hat, and cocked his head sideways.
Cody smirked and stood, then pointed a direct finger at Geoff. "HA! Go fish! Jump in a lake! HAHA!"
I slapped my forehead. People stared at them. Go figure.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
My watch read 8:06. I threw over my apron to the hook, and shouted over to the co-worker at the back, "I'm ending my shift early!", then went over to their table. "Let's go. The rain stopped."
Geoff smiled. "Sounds great."
Cody (Friday, 4pm)
Friday Afternoon from the Eyes of a Who-else-but-Me, written entirely on the back of Geoff's failure love sonnets
It's four o'clock in the afternoon. I am currently sitting behind the staircase railing with binoculars, making sure Geoff doesn't say anything stupid. He isn't. He isn't saying anything at all. He's concentrating. He and Bridgette are out on the back porch playing Scrabble. Bridgette is easily winning. But Geoff does not notice. He's debating whether to put the word 'CAT' or 'DOG' onto the board, but it appears to be a difficult decision for him as he is not sure which is worth more points. Then Bridgette laughs. She seems like she is having a good time. Suddenly her eyes widen and she pauses, as if she had remembered something important, and heads back inside and dashes up the stairs. Two seconds later, her hair is fixed and she is heading out the door. Geoff does not notice. He's still concentrating. I realize I extremely need to talk some sense into that guy.
Oh, wait, the phone's ringing. I'm gonna go answer that.
Cody
"Hello?" The voice was familiar. Very familiar. "Hey, Bridgette. It's DJ. I'm dropping something off in approximately five seconds. I need something figured out. You're smart, I think there's a good chance you can help me. Thanks."
DJ. DJ? I suddenly remembered I knew a guy named DJ. From the island? He lived around here? Wow. I didn't know that.
The doorbell rang, so I went to get that. A figure on a large black bicycle pulled away down the street, dropping a bulky package on the second step up. It was titled 'For Bridgette', so I brought it inside and tore the packaging apart myself.
It was a videotape.
Strange, I thought to myself, then went to the family room to watch it. It was footage of DJ, running frantically away from some girl. Now why would he do that? He should be grateful. At least the girl didn't look like a freak, which, you know, she could have.
Then I wondered even more so, now why would he want to drop off footage of him being freakishly scared of this girl?? Of course, DJ was scared of lots of things as I remembered, but I figured he had a few issues if he wanted to share it with the rest of the world.
But suddenly I realized threw was a crumpled note attached to one part of the ripped package, in DJ's handwriting.
Bridgette,
I didn't record this. I just found it.
DJ.
(PS: Can you also help figure out what the title on it means?.)
WATLN? – DJ.
It was an acronym. That was all I knew so far.
Guess I had to do some research.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It actually wasn't very hard to find it out.
I just had to type the letters in, and over a hundred pages came up.
So I clicked on one.
Where Are The Losers Now? (WATLN?) is a hit new reality TV show that first aired September 17, 2008, and is hosted by Chris Maclean. It features scenes and insights on the dramatic lives of the past contestants of Total Drama Island, that take place about year later (present). Only, they have absolute no clue that they're on national television, AGAIN-
I immediately quit the page and headed downstairs, as to where Geoff was still concentrating.
"Um, Geoff?" I asked him, uneasily, briefly glancing side to side. "Ever get the feeling you're being…watched?"
Geoff stared at his tiles, still contending to himself. Suddenly, he looked up. "Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that? I kind of missed it."
"Never mind."
Gwen (Friday, 6:30pm)
I couldn't find them anywhere.
But I could've sworn they were home two hours ago. You know, in their respective guestrooms, or outside in the backyard, enjoying the glorious weather.
But then twilight struck, and I was going to call out to them that it was time to watch this classic art documentary, Da Vinci and stuff, as they had promised me. No answers. No one came downstairs, or back indoors, or from wherever Izzy decided to pop out from.
And then it hit me.
They were at that stupid party.
Of course, my first instincts were to just let it be, and give them a talk about it later, when they came home.
My second instincts were to rush over there, tell Alexis off for bewitching those two with her preppy magic, then drag those two home. I went with that.
I stepped into my brother's car (he had two, and didn't give a hoot if I used his old one) and turned the ignition. About four seconds later, I was at the Claywood Estate.
"Uh, s-sorry maam," the body guard, all dressed in black, told me. "But you don't appear to be on this guestlist-"
"Listen," I replied firmly. "Alexis must've told you she invited her entire school. And since I'm in her school, I should be on it, right?"
"But, she also told me specifically not to let anyone with the name Gwendolyn Ramando near the party."
"Aww," I put on an act. "C'mon, Freddy-please?"
He froze. "How did you know my name was-"
I barged right in.
The lights were dimmed, colorful lights streaming at different sections, at different times. It was almost impossible to shove through the crowds and all of their 'Ouch's and 'Watch where you're going's. Then I heard a band playing once I strained my ears hard enough, and then a voice-Trent's voice, definitely.
"He's great, huh? I told you." I spun around, and there was Alexis, chatting and smirking with one of her snob friends. "He's absolutely perfect for me."
I gulped. He was perfect.
I actually hadn't heard him sing in awhile now. Or at least, up close. Sometimes he'd sing and play guitar outside on the porch, and as much as I would've wanted to, I couldn't confront him. I was too afraid to ruin his music.
It was beautiful.
And he was beautiful too, on that stage, glowing, like an angel.
And that smile-
"Gwen?" Suddenly, everything stopped. The singing, the music, the drums, and everything was focused one me. I felt like I'd shrunken ten sizes.
Trent stared at me, bewildered.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "If this is what you want, then…"
I ran out, and felt a random tear roll down my cheek. I started the engine, trying to breathe.
"Gwen!" A redheaded figure caught up with me, and snuck onto the car seat next to me. "I hope you don't mind, but I need a ride home."
I didn't answer, and we rolled out of parking lot.
"It was a great party! With the whole array of cocktail weenies-over twenty different flavors-and all! I like, had the whole refreshment table all to myself! Anyone who came close got pounced on!" Izzy chuckled, then froze. "I'm extremely sorry for sneaking out! It's just that I was really, really, really bored and-"
"It's okay," I said bluntly, and she sighed in relief.
We were almost home by now, only a few legal minutes away from my street.
"Hey, you know Trent got offered a record deal from Mr. Claywood, right? Isn't that awesome?"
I almost crashed into the stop sign.
She continued. "Which means he might have to stick around for a few more weeks, months, maybe."
"Tell me something else I don't know." I knew I was about pass out any second now, right in the middle of the street.
She suddenly became serious. She stared at the sky, and bit her lip. "He has a date with Alexis Claywood this Saturday."
Noah (Friday, 11:59pm)
I knew that the answer was somewhere. The answer to win student council president over Justin.
It was just something I needed to find out.
No way would I lose that silent self-centered jerk.
I researched all night-digging any type of dirt I could find about him. He was a part-time male model, the last time he spoke over ten words was when he was eight, and that he probably had over a billion dollars all for him stashed in the bank.
But it was difficult looking for bad things in someone with a good, smart reputation.
I had a dream once, recently. I was on top of the school steps during fifth period, an invisible trophy in my hands, and everyone was cheering my name at the top of their lungs. Then I crowd-surfed-something I would've found mediocre under any other circumstance-and then I was suddenly president.
I told Kevin this dream, and he told me to keep dreaming. I whacked him.
Of course I was going to win. I had to.
Hoped you all liked it! I think this is some of the best writing I've ever done. Woot!
Reviews, please! :)
