A/N: I have a proposition. XD I'm trying to get my story out there. Tell your friends, per se? :D XD

The rest of the school year went well. School went by slowly, and the weekends with Duncan passed in a flash.

I graduated junior year with flying colors. I got exemplary grades in all subjects but Algebra. My mom was once again oblivious to the fact I broke that promise (multiple times). That Isabelle slut left for England, and that made the last day even better. Once the final bell rung, everyone darted out the door and straight home. I got back home, and immediately dialed Duncan's phone.

"Hey! I'm done!" I exclaimed.

"Shweet," he said in agreement. He then asked, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Going out to dinner with Pixie Corpse, Reaper, and Marilyn." I answered. I then offered, "Want to come?"

"Yeah, sure. Where are you going?"

"Friendly's."

"What time?"

"Six."

"Okay. See ya then."

I then called Marilyn. "Marilyn, Duncan's coming to Friendly's."

"Really? That's great!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah. See you at six."

"Okay, see ya."

Dinner went well. Everyone seemed to like everyone else. Only the food was terrible.

I had these gross-looking cheeseburger sliders, even though all of the cheese melted onto the wax paper. And, there was a surplus of mustard. I'm usually not picky about food but mustard was my arch nemesis. It, in my opinion, is one of the most disgusting condiments mankind has ever invented – next to sauerkraut.

The place was mainly a family place, but it was close to the high school, so it was pretty much transformed into a teen hangout. None of us really ate our food – I only ate one little cheeseburger, until I gave up and ate the waffle fries.

For dessert, we just slushied pretty much every ice cream flavor known to man.

We then drove back to our houses. Before he left, Duncan and I just kissed inside his car. Whore-ish? Yes. Very, very whore-ish.

The summer was perfect. Duncan and I spent it together – pretty much all the time. I met his parents, finally – they were freaking dedicated to their roles as police officers. While Duncan's mom was the "Good Cop", Duncan's dad was the "Bad Cop". I could've tossed a gum wrapper on the street and he would've given me a hefty fine for littering.

And, that summer, I got a paycheck. Not from a job, but from competing on the show. Apparently, the show was illegal. I mean, it was legal for people over eighteen to do by force. But not minors. So, each contestant got paid ten thousand dollars.

I didn't quite understand what the felonies were, but hey – I can't argue with ten thousand bucks.

However, while this summer was starting out great, Peter soon ruined it in June.

They were getting quite serious, and Peter suggested moving to New York. It was full of new opportunities, Broadway, and everything that my mother dreamed of as a child.

You see, my mom was very exuberant. She grew up cheery and happy. She spent her days chasing butterflies and her nights jarring fireflies. She always dreamed of being an actress – not the ones that usually transformed into drug addicts, but the ones on Broadway. Peter thought that at least moving in the town that held the theater would make her feel as if she reached her dream.

Then this is where I got really mad – my mom said she would agree to leaving town once I moved out.

Although I usually think for myself, I was more concerned for Alex. He couldn't survive in New York City at all. He just would not like it.

And I knew he didn't. Once he found out, he asked if I was planning to live in Philadelphia for the rest of my life.

"Depends," I shrugged. "I mean, if I have kids, I'll probably move to the suburbs, or somewhere like Washington. Somewhere far away."

He paused, then said, "Not even three years?"

"No," I shook my head. At this point in time, I was still blind to what he was asking me.

It wasn't until a day after that I finally got it. I told my mom, but she said her mind was set.

This was terrible. And July only got worse.

My mom ran in the door excitedly, flaunting her new engagement ring. I ran upstairs at the scene, almost in tears. Duncan and I were together longer than that, and we're not even engaged (I don't even think I could be at this age, either). I didn't like Peter! Not even Rob liked him, either!

In my sadness, I called Rob and told him of the whole ordeal. To my liking, he offered that I can go to his condo down the shore so I could spend some time alone. He told me the location of the key, and hoped for the best.

I wrote a note to my mom:

I've been under a lot of stress lately, so I'm at an undisclosed location so I can get my thoughts together. I will come back in less than five days, and it's somewhere safe. My phone is on, and don't worry. – Gwen.

In the car, I called Duncan and told him about what happened. "Gwen, I'm coming down."

"No, it's fine." I persisted.

"Seriously. I'm coming down."

"Wow…thanks. Okay, I'll see you down there."

I drove until I reached Rob's condo. He said it was the third floor; key is under the mat. I reached underneath the Welcome! mat, stuck the key in the lock, and went inside. It started raining. I hoped this wouldn't affect Duncan's driving.

About thirty minutes later, Duncan arrived. I looked outside. Something small dropped out of his pocket. He looked up, clenched his teeth in anger, and picked it up, trying to get some water out as he hopped up the steps.

We talked for a while about the whole ordeal. However, at one point, we were silent. And sometimes silence says everything.

I went to the guest room to sleep, along with Duncan. Honestly, I was afraid there was cum in Rob's bed for some reason – as I think I said earlier, he's somewhat of a sex fanatic.

I held onto Duncan for the rest of the night. Right now, he felt like he was one of the only people on my side.

"I love you so much," I said, still upset. My mom can't be marrying someone I don't like at all. Nyuh-uh. You're not supposed to.

"I love you, too," he sighed, and we both fell asleep.

I woke up, and Duncan was apparently in the living room. As I proceeded to get up, my ring got caught on the sheets. I yanked it off, accidentally snapping a thread on the bed sheet.

Hold on. I looked at my finger. I bit my lip as I saw the huge diamond on my finger. Holy shit.

I'm engaged. I'm fucking engaged. I didn't care if I was too young, and I didn't care about what anybody said about it.

I was in love, and I was engaged.

Well, not yet. I ran towards the living room. Duncan was lying on the couch, watching the TV. He turned towards me, smiled, and asked, "Well then?"

I couldn't speak. All I did was just smile widely and nod. Soon, I answered, "Yes."

I was ecstatic. Ecstatic, ecstatic, ecstatic.

++++++++Duncan's Perspective++++++++

My mom said I should propose in front of everybody. And when I'm at least twenty-five.

Being the son-of-a-bitch that I am, I didn't fulfill her wants. I mean, proposing in front of everyone you know – that's douchey. I would do it myself, my way, and indeed I have.