Chapter 11: Anyone Else But Me

Disclaimer: I do not own TDI or any of its character(:

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination." ~Robert Fulghum

Courtney:

"Wait, so you're actually going to a party?" James asked, following his sister up to her room.

Their mother was not home yet, thankfully.

James didn't want to tell her how their day went.

"Yes," Courtney replied, walking into her huge walk-in closet and coming back out holding an outfit that made James cringe. "Tonight. Bridgette is picking me up. You like my party outfit?"

"Oh, god, Courtney, you're not actually wearing that, are you?" James groaned, his eyes latched on the hot pink shorts his sister held. "And the halter top?"

Courtney looked at the shorts and then back up at her brother, who looked aghast. She frowned, "I see nothing wrong with this outfit."

"Yeah, if you're trying to be a stripper," James snorted.

Of course, the outfit wasn't that extreme, but James was firmly in his brotherly mode as of the moment.

"Well, Mom saw the outfit, and she thinks it's fine," Courtney said, rolling her eyes. "And I think it's cute."

James stared at Courtney, an odd look in his eyes. "Courtney, something's wrong. You're not like this."

Courtney only responded by rummaging through her large mahogany jewelry box, talking like as if James had said nothing, "You think I should wear this necklace, James? Or this one?"

She held up a necklace with a dangling pink and gold frosted Venetian heart in one hand and a silver charm toggle one in the other.

"I think the one with the pink goes much better with the shorts, but this charm one looks really nice with my top," she continued, looking at both of them thoughtfully.

James gazed at Courtney, an understanding expression on his features. He was silent for a moment, and then finally said, his voice quiet, "It's Dad, isn't it? You're upset about him, aren't you?"

Courtney didn't meet James's eyes. Her expression was unreadable as she looked over two diamond earrings.

"What are you talking about, James?" she asked lightly, playing with the pair of dangling diamond earrings their father had gotten for her on Christmas a year ago.

James's gaze landed on the earrings. Dad had given those Tiffany & Co earrings to Courtney last year. That was the last Christmas they shared together as a family before he left.

He remembered Mom and Dad having a whispered conversation over the price of the earrings the day before he bought them, how Courtney was too young to have such expensive jewelry.

Those earrings had cost their father about five thousand bucks, but he didn't even care. He loved Courtney that much. And Courtney had loved him. And the earrings.

James wondered how Courtney felt now, looking at the sparkling pair of jewels.

"You know what I'm talking about, Cee," James said, his tone low.

"No, I don't," Courtney said simply, holding up the dangly earrings in the afternoon sun. "I'm not upset, James." She flashed her brother a smile. "I feel fine. Honest."

And with that, she tossed the earrings carelessly back into the jewelry box, her expression suddenly cool and frosty. The diamonds glinted in the sun's light, almost like as if it was beckoning Courtney back, but she closed the lid on it resolutely.

Courtney turned to look at James, and her lips twisted into a wry smile.

And despite Courtney's words, James knew from her actions that she was definitely not fine.

"We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger." -Tad Williams

Courtney sat in her room, wrapped in her light pink terry robe, expression flat.

Her fingers ran across the soft, velvety fabric of her robe, but for some reason, its warmth did not comfort her today.

James was right.

She was upset. Upset to such an extent that she felt nothing anymore. There was an odd feeling in her chest, like as if something was weighing her down.

The image of Nancy and her kids kept swimming in and out of Courtney's mind, and the bright smile her father had on the whole entire day was nauseating. He was happy. Disgustingly so. And their own mother had not even moved on yet.

A tightness constricted Courtney's throat, but she quickly swallowed it down. It hurt, yes. A lot. But she would not cry. No. No more tears would be shed over her father. Besides, why should she mope around while everyone else had fun?

There were better things at hand. Like the party.

Courtney oddly found herself looking forward to the party tonight. Finally, there would be an outlet for her, where she could just let loose at last. She needed something to take her mind off of her father.

And then she could see Duncan. Duncan had the ability to cheer Courtney up even if he didn't mean to.

There was just something about seeing him now that made her unexplainably happy.

But it wasn't because she liked him. That was unthinkable.

He just made her feel like as if she was a part of something. He made her feel special.

"You know, I could sneak you out the house, show you what some real fun is."

"You gonna be okay until then? I mean, I could come over and hang out if that's what you want."

The soft light of the sun, the sound of the wind whistling and the birds chirping through the window soon lulled Courtney to sleep.

She needed a nap, anyway. Today's events had driven her to madness.

"See, the human mind is kind of like... a piñata. When it breaks open, there's a lot of surprises inside. Once you get the piñata perspective, you see that losing your mind can be a peak experience." -Jane Wagner

Her Blackberry was ringing.

The brunette opened her eyes blearily. What time was it?

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Courtney leaned over to her bedside table and stared at the Caller ID.

Heather.

Courtney frowned, suddenly wide awake now. Why on earth was Heather calling her?

"Hello?" Courtney said, pressing TALK.

"Courtney!" Heather said cheerfully. "It's Heather."

Courtney ran a hand through her now limp hair. "Oh. Hey, Heather."

"So, are you still going to Trent's party?" Heather quipped.

"Oh," Courtney said, hugging a plush velvet pillow against her chest. "Yes."

"What time are you coming, then?" Heather asked.

"Time?" Courtney blinked.

She hadn't thought about that.

"Yeah," Heather said. You could just hear her eyes rolling.

"Well, um, I'm not sure. I was just gonna wait until Bridgette comes over to pick me up. We were going to go together."

"You should be here around seven-thirtyish. That's when the drinks are going to come in."

Courtney didn't want to think about what kind of 'drinks' were gonna be there. Most certainly not just Sprite.

Heather paused. "And you're gonna wear that outfit we got, right?"

"Of course," Courtney said, looking at the very outfit hanging on the wall.

"Perfect. And you know that you're gonna stay at the party longer than an hour because I--" Heather's voice turned sharp. "Duncan, what the hell are you----" Heather was cut off as a jostling sound was heard.

"Duncan?" Courtney repeated, frowning.

Did Heather say Duncan?

There were grunts and shouts, and Courtney could make out Duncan's voice.

Finally, there was silence.

"Hey, Princess," Duncan greeted on the other end of the line.

"Duncan?" Courtney asked in disbelief. "What are you doing with Heather?"

"Ooh, someone's jealous," Duncan teased.

Courtney rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. As if."

"Well, anyway, I was wondering if you were gonna, oh, I don't know, back out on me at the last moment," Duncan said airily. "After all. You are my date."

He stressed out the last word very delicately.

"I prefer to use the term 'hostage'," Courtney said acidly.

"Yeah, well--- Damn, Heather, hold up! Give me a few more seconds!" Duncan snapped. His voice returned to the phone. "Well, anyway, yeah, I was wondering if I should come pick you up."

Courtney winced at the thought of her mother seeing Duncan pick her up for the party.

"Uh, no thank you, Duncan, it'll be all right. Bridgette is already picking me up. With Geoff."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed. "Damn. I wanted to give you a ride on my---"

"Give me back my phone already, asshole!" Heather's voice sounded in the background. A grunt was heard and some scuffling sounds.

Courtney could make out Geoff faintly, saying something that sounded like, "Guys, come on, stop fighting!"

That was so like Geoff.

But then, a huge thump was heard and the line went dead.

Courtney looked at her Blackberry oddly and then shrugged.

She certainly wasn't going to call Heather back at any chance. Courtney tossed her phone onto the bed and swung her feet onto the hardwood maple floor.

It was already five thirty. Two more hours or so and Bridgette would come pick her up. Might as well get ready now.

Besides. Courtney looked at herself for a moment in the mirror.

She looked away, her eyes narrowed. She didn't think she could stand to be herself for another minute.

"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life." -Fr. Alfred D'Souza

Duncan:

When Duncan finally come home, sporting a bruise on his jaw, courtesy of Heather, he heard noises in the living room.

Uncle Keith, also known as Mr. Devlin of History at Independence High, was lounging on the white chintz couch, grading some papers.

Duncan spied a corner of his paper sticking out of the stack.

C-.

Not bad, Duncan, not bad at all.

Uncle Keith always came over and bunked at Duncan's house. Sometimes it was because he wanted some free food, other times because he was just bored. Most of the time, he just wanted to play on Duncan's Playstation 3.

That was the problem with Uncle Keith, in Duncan's opinion. Uncle Keith was young. He was in his late twenties, and here he was, grading papers when he could be out hanging with chicks and getting a date for once.

Sure, he was cool, and in Duncan's manly opinion, not all that bad looking. A lot of babes at Independence thought Uncle Keith was attractive.

And he dressed pretty nice. Not like the other old geezers that taught IHS.

And Uncle Keith wasn't boring or anything. Once you got to know him, he was pretty hardcore when it came to fun stuff. Like video games. And partying.

But when you get on matters that he has soft spots for, like Courtney, for instance, then there would be trouble.

Damn, if Uncle Keith knew that Duncan had blackmailed Courtney into going to the party with him, there would be trouble. Big-time.

"Hey, Uncle Keith," Duncan said, tossing his black Venus onto the coffee table. "What's up?"

"Just grading some papers," Uncle Keith said airily. He tossed the papers onto the glass coffee table and turned to look at Duncan, a look in his eye that boded ill.

"So how are you and Courtney?" Uncle Keith asked bluntly. "Is it working out?"

Duncan shrugged nonchalantly, not letting for a moment his mask slip, "She's all right."

"All right?" Uncle Keith repeated in disbelief, eyebrows flying way the hell up his forehead. "She's the sweetest thing that ever came to Independence High! You should be thankful I got you her."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "Man, chill. She's not that sweet, believe me."

Inwardly, images of Courtney throwing a pinecone at his forehead and hurling insults at him every five seconds crowded Duncan's mind.

Yeah. Definitely not sweet.

"You should be lucky that I got someone like Courtney to tame you," Uncle Keith said, a grin playing on his mouth. "No one else would dare take on you."

"Yeah, Courtney's pretty hardcore when it comes to me," Duncan boasted.

Uncle Keith glared at him, a knowing look in his eyes, "Hey. Don't try anything funny with Courtney, okay?"

"Okay, geez," Duncan protested. "I wasn't gonna do anything!"

He flopped down onto the seat beside his uncle. "I got a party to go to tonight." He grinned at his uncle. "Geoff says it's gonna be killer."

"Of course," Uncle Keith said, rolling his eyes slightly. "He thinks everything is killer." He took up his sheaf of papers again. "Speaking of killer," the brown-haired teacher yanked out a certain essay, "Your essay killed me, Duncan. And not in a good way, either."

Duncan peered at his essay. There were red marks all over it and some scratches here and there from Uncle Keith. A huge C- was circled at the top of his headline.

"That's pretty darn good, buddy," Duncan said jovially, giving Uncle Keith a manly thump on the back.

"Your essay sucked, Duncan," Uncle Keith said flatly. "I'm not even around anymore. You need to step it up if you want to pass History."

"Oh, just relax," Duncan said carelessly. "I'll do better next time, okay?"

"Bull crap," Uncle Keith said, grinning despite his recent aggravation at Duncan's grades.

Duncan laughed at Uncle Keith's curse words. Since he wasn't allowed to say more that 'damn' and 'hell' at school, it became a habit for Uncle Keith not to cuss in front of students. Not even Duncan, who was a renowned potty-mouth.

"I will, I will, man," Duncan promised. Trying to change the subject, the delinquent quickly asked, "You staying for dinner tonight? Mom's making her sausage ravioli and crème brulee."

"Sounds good," the young teacher said, grinning. "Hey, how about we go catch a movie? You wanna watch Transporter 3? Heard it's good."

"Don't you got work to do?" Duncan asked, raising an eyebrow at Uncle Keith's sudden disregard for his work.

Uncle Keith stared for a moment at his papers, and then shrugged. "Ah, what the hell? Those can wait till tonight. Let's go." He tossed his car keys in the air and caught it deftly.

"You're paying, though, man," Duncan said as they went out the door. "I got to save my money for the party tonight."

"Why? Taking some lucky lady out?" Uncle Keith asked, his tone teasing.

"Yeah," Duncan said, an affectionate smile already on his lips. "A real lucky lady."

Who goes by the name of Princess.

"Whoever thinks of going to bed before twelve o'clock is a scoundrel." -Samuel Johnson

The moment Duncan got home, he hurried upstairs to get ready for the party. He had planned to be fashionable late; at least an hour and a half. The party wasn't really alive until an hour or so into the party.

Duncan carefully gelled his hair up into his faux mohawk, making sure each spike was upright.

He was going for his best party look tonight.

And a tiny part of him wanted to impress Princess with his roguish good looks.

Just a tiny part.

And besides. There could be other chicks at the party that would appreciate his good looks.

Duncan chewed on his lips. What should he wear?

Duncan eyed his closet carefully and after five seconds of speculating, picked out his outfit.

Guys, you see, choose their outfits quickly and efficiently unlike the female species.

His mother was known to take hours just to choose an outfit, and in some extreme cases, even went so far as to drag Duncan into her room and ask him for his opinion on her clothing.

Horror.

Duncan buttoned up his navy blue, long-sleeved dress shirt over his white tank top, leaving the first few buttons unopened. He picked out his favorite pair of Azuki jeans with the sea-green design on the back pocket and pulled it over his boxers.

He then loosely put on a white tie with a small imprint of an anchor on the bottom. His cousin had bought him that tie from some expensive Italian place downtown for a wedding. Duncan rarely wore it except on special occasions. Like this.

Duncan flicked off his plain silver studs. It was time to upgrade his accessories.

The delinquent exchanged his normal stud earrings for legit diamond ones that he had bought for a couple hundred downtown.

He didn't wear these on a daily basis; they were much too flashy. He only wore it at night or when he was out partying or slipping into clubs and underground raves with fake IDs.

And he was probably going to dance at the party.

If he was lucky, it would be with Princess.

Maybe she knew how to grind, he thought hopefully. Who knows?

And dancing required comfortable shoes.

Duncan grabbed up his white Air Jordans that he bought a few weeks ago. Perfect. He could dance all night with these.

Giving himself one last look-over in the mirror, Duncan slipped out of his room, patted Spike goodbye, and headed into the living room.

"Hey, Mom, I'm headed to the party, all right?" he said as he passed by his mother, who was watching a drama on the TV.

"Yes, yes," she said absentmindedly, pulling Duncan down to give him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Have fun, sweetie; don't drink and drive."

"Yeah," Duncan said, grinning slightly at his mother.

The things she said sometimes just made him want to laugh out loud.

"When Dad comes home, tell him where I'm at, okay, Mom?" Duncan said over his shoulder as he discreetly grabbed his motorcycle keys from the key rack.

Duncan's dad was a policeman; he came home late most nights, and when he didn't know where Duncan was, he usually freaked out.

His mom, however much he loved her, was a tad bit on the ditzy side, so Duncan always had to remind her twice for everything.

"Remember, Mom, I'm at a party, okay?"

"Yeah, honey," Duncan's mother said, waving him off, her eyes still glued to the TV screen. "Don't come home too late."

Duncan tucked the keys into his jean pockets. "Yeah. See you later, Mom."

And with that, he slipped out of the house, his dark clothing blending in with the night.

He had purposely worn dark clothing. Police weren't liable to come at Trent's parties, Geoff had promised him, but Duncan wasn't taking any chances. Going to juvie once was enough; he didn't want to get too friendly with the cops there.

Duncan took out his keys, the metal glinting.

Ha.

As if a suspension could hold Duncan back from riding his motorcycle.

Duncan pulled opened the garage door with his remote and pulled the motorcycle out into the moonlight, its red paint and silver chromes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Hey, babe," he said, patting the leather seat fondly. "You're beautiful as ever."

Swinging a foot over the motorcycle, Duncan yanked his helmet with the visor off of the handle and jammed it over his head.

He couldn't risk getting caught without a helmet by the cops; they might take away his license forever if they found out he was riding while on suspension.

Duncan revved up his engines and grinned to himself.

He was gonna drink his brains out tonight.

Duncan flipped down the visor and sped off. He couldn't help but let out a howl of elation as the wind whipped against his skin.

This was the life, baby.

"Only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window." -Author Unknown

Courtney:

Courtney applied the last dash of glitter across the apple of her cheeks and smiled at herself in the mirror.

She looked pretty good.

Hardly like herself at all.

And that was good.

Because Courtney would rather be anyone other than herself tonight.

Tonight, she was going to let loose and dance all night. Forget about that stupid man and his fiancée and Justin.

Courtney fluffed her hair once last time and stepped out of the bathroom.

James stared at her, mouth open, an apple halfway in his mouth.

"Oh, god, Courtney," James groaned. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Of course, one would be shocked, too, if one saw what the usually conservative Courtney was wearing.

A tight white halter top that hugged her curves and accentuated her bosom to an extent that made James cringe. Her hot pink shorts stood out in contrast to her white tank top. She had on hot pink kitten heels.

Her legs were bronze, sparkling with body glitter as she moved.

A thin string of diamonds hung from Courtney's earlobes, and there was a huge turquoise ring on her index finger. A chunky lightning yellow bracelet jangled on Courtney's wrist.

Courtney twirled around for special effect. "Like it?"

"I hate it," James said flatly. "Go wear something else."

"Well, I think it looks great on me," Courtney said proudly, smoothing down the front of her halter top. "I like it."

Courtney glanced at the clock mantled on the wall.

7:50.

It was time for her to go to the party. Bridgette would be come to pick her up in a few minutes.

"Well, I'm gonna go now. When Mom comes home, tell her where I am," Courtney said, starting to go down the stairs.

Their mother was still out shopping. She had called home to tell them that she would be out with her girlfriends for the night.

Courtney understood why. Shopping always made her feel better, too.

The C.I.T was inwardly glad that she wouldn't have to be the one to break the news of their father's new engagement to their mother. She left that to her brother.

"Wait, at least put on a jacket before you go," James said desperately, pulling Courtney back. "It's cold out."

"Fine," Courtney relented, retreating into her room to choose a jacket that would go with her outfit.

After going through her closet, she pulled on a long black Alfani trench coat.

She also grabbed her BlackBerry from her bedside table.

It wouldn't be smart to leave her phone at home.

"Okay, James," Courtney said, walking past her brother and tying the jacket's sash on her waist. "Don't wait up." She flashed a smile at her brother.

James rolled his eyes. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Courtney, but whatever. Have fun."

"I will," Courtney replied, heading outside to wait for Bridgette and Geoff.

"Don't drink, okay, Courtney?" James said, leaning against the doorway. "And don't take anything strangers give you. Especially not any drinks."

Courtney smiled slightly. "James. I'm not stupid."

"I know." James shoved his hands into his jean's pockets.

At that moment, a red Corvette convertible came riding up in front of the house. Geoff and Bridgette were in the front passenger seat; Geoff was driving.

"Hey, Courtney!" Geoff cheered, honking his horn a few times, "Lookin' good, babe! Hop on in!"

"Oh my god," Bridgette gasped, her eyes wide. "Courtney?"

Courtney grinned and ran towards the car, waving goodbye to her brother over her shoulder. "Bye, James! Tell Mom I already went to the party, okay?"

James nodded back at her in response.

"Hey, James, bra! You want to come with, too?" Geoff hollered, waving for James to come in.

"Gotta stay home today, dude," James shouted back, shaking his head. "I'll see you later! Take care of my sis!"

"You can count on me, bro," Geoff shouted, grinning.

Courtney hauled herself over the door and buckled her seatbelt, just for safety precaution.

She smiled at James, waving goodbye.

He flashed an encouraging grin back.

"Come on, Geoffie," Courtney said, leaning on his seat. "Let's go party!"

Courtney didn't notice the odd look that Bridgette gave her from the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Geoff cheered as he revved up the car and made a sharp U-turn, swerving Courtney to the side of the car. "We're gonna have fun tonight!"

Summertime by New Kids on the Block blared from the radio, the rhythm pulsing under Courtney's feet.

The cold wind whipped through all their hair as they drove down the highway. Bridgette was laughing as Geoff whooped and howled against the breeze. Courtney threw her arms up into the air, letting loose a carefree cheer, reveling in the moment.

The sun was setting just beyond the horizon, the sky a deep hue of pink and purple with the last rays of dusk.

Tonight was gonna be different. She just knew.

"We feel free when we escape - even if it be but from the frying pan into the fire." -Eric Hoffer

A/N: Oh. My. God. FINALLY. This chapter is UP! Now, are you guys ready? The party chapter is UP NEXT! Things will happen to make up for the loss of time, I promise you(: So, enjoy, read & review! I promise to have the chapters up quicker from now on.