A/N: Another update! I'm really moving through this story slowly...Sorry about the long wait times. I've just had a lot going on recently and fanfiction was pushed to the back of my mind. That being said, right now I can't really define a date at where updates'll be more frequent. I'll just have to see when I finish one of my other stories and post them as they get finished.

That being said, thank you so much for all the support and such. It's helped me to find motivation and continue writing despite what's going on. So thanks a bunch everyone. I really appreciate it.

Anyway, I'll stop talking/typing now.

Till next time,

D.L.D

~Courtney~

I'm in pain.

I know that I am. I can feel it every time I look at the picture of me and Duncan on my bedside table. It was taken during the Summer, all of my friends having organised a water fight. White shirt and denim shorts were donned, my hair tied up into a messy bun as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I remember buying a watergun especially for the purpose of soaking everyone else that day. Back then I'd been so competitive - still am.

That warm summer day, none of us emerged dry. The moment that picture was taken, I was celebrating my victory and Duncan had taken the chance to pour a bucket of ice cold water all over me. Just like him to do something like that. But due to poor decisions made in outfit choice, the outline of my bra could be seen. I'd gotten pretty flustered and so he'd given me a kiss as an apology. Being the romantic she is, Bridgette snapped a photo of the scene and it's lived here since.

Bridgette said the scene was reminiscent of those couples from those trashy romances she binges. It was a classic. She always said that Duncan and I were meant to be and that she bet we'd last the longest out of us all. It seemed like that too until I found out the truth...

Tears blur my vision, the temptation to throw the picture now, frame and all, out of my bedroom window growing stronger. But when I grab it, all that anger fades to tears. Instead I collapse to the floor, legs bent under my form as I cry and cry. Sob and sob. They escape in great moans, similar to a donkey. As I sobbed the picture lay between my arms, close to my chest and yet so feeling far away. It felt so distant. It was physically there, physically close, but the memories within it were so far away.

I miss those days... Those days when I was so oblivious. When I was so happy and knew that my boyfriend was loyal to me. That he loved me with everything he had.

Loved.

Where did I go wrong with it all? What caused Duncan to go to Gwen and not...me? What made him choose Gwen over me?

What - what made him forget about how much I loved him?

I sniffle, tears still going but sounds having died with that final thought. They died with the realisation that Duncan had forgotten that I loved him - or that he showed no signs of acknowledging that anymore. I mean it was evident: He'd chosen someone else. That doesn't happen for just any reason. I mean it was obvious from the way he seemed so neutral over the past few weeks. He was always just so blank and tired when I approached him - so dismissive. It was like Duncan had forgotten that I was in the relationship to love him, not to scold and change him.

I'll admit I went overboard with that. I hit a phase where my behaviour was extremely unhealthy and toxic. But I thought I was getting better recently. I was being more let-loose and had stopped pestering him as much. I even ripped up that stupid thirty two page letter of requirements I wrote! Ever since Gwen got us to communicate over that issue I thought -

No.

I should've known that it would be the downfall of our romance. My own controlling nature and constant nitpicking: that was my own fault in all of this. Me wanting to change Duncan was my mistake. It was my error. My downfall.

But even so, why did Duncan not call it off? What did he go to someone else behind my back? Why did I -

A knock on my bedroom door is what stops my thoughts, the sound light and therefore not belonging to my mother. I know that for a fact as she's tried to barge into my room a couple of times now. However I haven't let her in at all aside from delivering me the occasional snack, and even instructed her to leave dinner by the door. I didn't want my mother seeing me like this after all - nor my father. I didn't want anyone to see my like this. So weak and emotional. So pained and heartbroken.

So helpless...

Silence settles as another knock sounds, this time the tapping more urgent than soft. Whoever's behind that door clearly wants to get in and if I don't act fast they'll probably break it down.

"Who is it?" My voice comes out dry, hoarse. It's no surprise when I've probably been sobbing like a mule for the past few hours.

All sorts of negative, looping thoughts had consumed me after all and so I've had plenty to cry about. The breakup, my decision to work with Heather, feeling isolated, not knowing who to trust - there were so many things that had formed over the past day. All of them are things that chip away at my sanity too. All of these damaging topics are so fresh that every time I get over one it just comes back. They all plague me in a continuous loop, placing me in a constant state of despair.

Maybe that's why I've hidden away in my room.

I've been in here since leaving school after lunch. The nurse let me go due to my state of distress and I feel as if it's only worsened over time. In fact my current mood makes me consider ditching school tomorrow on a claim that I'm still too 'sick'. I'm not in the best state after all, plus it seems so tempting with how shitty today was. I was humiliated and I'm isolated. At least if I don't go in I won't have to face anyone for a while...

"Court...it's Gwen."

I tense. I can't help it. I really can't. Just from the sound of her voice I feel myself growing antsy. Agitated. I can't control it either, not when she's done what she did. How can I ever forgive that? How can I ever forgive them?

She's meant to be my best friend for crying out loud! What sort of best friend steals her friend's man!

But of course, in this situation, Gwen still feels as if she's my best friend. She believes that I don't know about the kiss and whatever else may have followed. Gwen believes that I'm just having a rough time and that Heather won't back off. She probably thinks that I'm just feeling terrible after a shitty day. After all I've just broken up with my boyfriend of a year and so it's normal to be emotionally unstable. It's ok for me to be so vulnerable and damaged. So emotional and destructive.

Gwen's just here to help me. Yeah, she's here to help how she can. She's here to support me.

But at the same time seeing her isn't going to help...

"Go away..." It comes out quiet at first, eyes lidded as the picture's held loosely between my hands. I don't even look at it, eyes focusing on the door as they blaze with something better than sadness. As they build with something less self-destroying than melancholy. My gaze homes in on the thing I can blame for my current unhappiness instead; they focus on the thing that destroyed my relationship. The thing I can blame all this pain on.

"Courtney I'm not - "

"JUST GO AWAY GWEN!" The words come out violent and filled with hatred, the picture in my hands ending up on the floor. I act before I can think, eyes wide at the result. The glass had shattered and spilled before the door, the wooden frame broken and picture wrinkled. "Just go away..."

Footsteps sound and begin to gradually fade, indicating that Gwen had gone. She knows that I'm too volatile to reason with right now. She can feel that I'm too angry to even think of calming down or talking about why I'm so upset. So instead Gwen leaves and is most likely telling my mother about how it's best to leave me for a while. She'll likely tell everyone else not to phone me too. She'll tell everyone to leave me for a bit just like the good friend she is.

Gwen always knew when to give me space after all - why should now be the exception?

Especially after what she did. She's such a great friend...

Tears form in my eyes as the blast of anger fades, sadness replacing it as I look at the mangled picture and its frame; They fall as I look at the memory, the oh so perfect and happy memory, I had just destroyed.

Crawling over to the damage, silence becomes my only companion as I kneel within the broken glass. It digs into my knees, but I can barely feel the sting. Instead, with shaking hands, fingers dig through the mess of wood and glass, cuts forming but my mind not focusing on it. Instead I find the picture and straighten it out on my thigh, the creases still evident.

The picture was such a perfect memory. It was such a happy thing that was made through my relationship. It was one of the warmer things I had leftover. Just looking at the scene brings back all those warm feelings and sensations. It brought back all that sparked the romance in the first place.

I remember how it felt when Duncan kissed me, how I felt so safe within his arms - so loved. So...complete. Despite how he acted he could be a real softie and because of that I fell for him. I fell hard. But now, like everything, that romance was tainted. It was ruined and changed. I'll never have the relationship I had with Duncan back. It was ruined and I can never trust him again. I can never fully forgive him and even if I love him, it wouldn't be the same. I'll always think that he'll pull shit like this again.

Getting back together would only hurt us more than fix us...

I look at the picture again, a shaky smile forming. The picture that was now crumpled and blood-spotted. It was such a pretty picture, much like how we were a perfect pair...

Tears form as I tuck it into a draw, protected by a book I kept in there. It should be safe in there while I sort out my head. After all I'm too unstable to deal with whether I'm over Duncan or not. Keeping it out in the open may make me want to destroy it or bin it. But then again that would mean I clearly still have feelings.

So...I'm not really over it am I?

"No, I'm recovering," I take a deep breath as I try to motivate myself, tone strong and confident. I wipe my eyes and shake my head. "You're healing Courtney and it's ok to feel bad while you are. Just keep your eyes on the prize. Keep your eyes on the prize..."

As I say this my phone vibrates with a notification. A frown forms, mind instantly expecting it to be Gwen or someone I don't really want to talk to. But instead the contact makes me smile, bloody and injured fingers working to unlock the device.

*Message Sent* - 18:45

Yeah, I'll meet you there.

~Heather~

"I'll make sure to call you later!" I wave to Sierra, who had finally finalized our plans after two hours.

She was now unchaining her bike, backpack, binder and helmet ready for what seemed like her daily cycle home. Once again her purple braids stuck out, the colour odd and style extremely childish, especially with the ribbons. I never understood why she still wore them. It was so..geeky. Braids and pigtails were the definition of children and nerds - both being parasites that needed to be eradicated off this planet. As a result Sierra was someone I avoided being seen in public with - but then again Sierra is a massive geek.

Sure she lacks the braces and glasses, but she had them a few years ago. Back in late middle school and early high school years, Miss Sierra Campbell was notorious for wearing her square-rimmed glasses and train-track braces. She was the one of the geekiest of all in middle school, the past few years gracing her with looking a little more 'normal'. However back then she was much like Ugly Betty Beth, but a bit more normal-ish.

It was back then in middle school that we were actual friends.

I shiver at that thought, disgust, shame and revelation mixing into one. I actually used to hang out with Sierra through choice - not just that but we were really good friends. We were close and had a lot in common, obsessing over certain shows and bands. There was a time where we used to just live at each others' houses, swapping parents for the week. But I think it was when Sierra became a stalker that I finally cut the ties - well that and the fact that my mother helped me to become what I am today.

I was so weird and nerdy back then...

Ugh, don't even get me started on how I looked.

"Yeah, you know where to call," Sierra nodded slowly, a disheartened smile forming. "If I don't answer my mom will."

I pause at her expression, a part of me still knowing what it meant. We were friends for ages after all and so I learned to read Sierra like a book. I knew when she was happy, upset and angry. I knew her ticks and habits - I knew what she hated. I knew how to be her friend; But the newly formed me was having none of it. In fact that part told me that Sierra was most likely upset because I'd shut down her years-long fantasy about the ship 'Aleheather' as she dubbed it. Ever since Ale-jerko transferred here from wherever the fuck he came from before, Sierra's been fixated on us being a couple.

So of course shutting her down would harm her ego.

Sierra's always had this weird quirk of putting two people together and then smashing their names together. Geoff and Bridgette became Gidgett, Duncan and Courtney: Duncney and so on and so forth... It was like a hobby of hers to romanticize those around her except herself.

How tragic.

Someone really needs to shut her down on this shipping thing before Sierra goes looney from it. I don't want to deal with her when she loses her wits after all and this shipping thing's only going to make her upset in the long-run anyway.

Giving her an early wake-up call to reality may be just what Sierra Campbell needs.

It's then Alejandro pulls up, sunglasses and charm on as always as he disrupts my concentration. Just the sight that would cheer Sierra up after me confidently stating for a whole hour that there was no way in hell I'd go out with Alejandro. Not to mention that I was just thinking about ending her weird matchmaking fantasies. Then as if to top the cake with a glace cherry, I'd forgotten that Dakota drove the squad to school this morning. That meant that I was in need of a ride home - a ride other than the musty, public bus.

So how coincidental is it that Alejandro pulls up just when it looks convenient for us to be a couple? How fucked up is it that my life seems like one of those stupid movies like Mean Girls and Heathers? (Props to Heather C though, she's a classic).

"A little bird told me you needed a ride home," Alejandro gives a smirk as he winds down his window, pearly whites on display as he tilts his sunglasses.

He looked like 'the vision of a God' - (I'm obviously quoting Barfy Beth here, no way in hell I'd actually say that). Paired with that smile, his green eyes can't help but bring up the sex appeal. Alejandro always had a great appeal to females after all - it was just how he was. So handsome and strong, that Alejandro could swoon any female within his midst!

Ugh! Talk about pathetic ogling. I'd rather die than say something like that. However while I would usually find this super dorky and embarrassing, while calling him out for being a complete fool; Alejandro somehow pulled it off...

No bad Heather! You can't give he an inch or he'll take a mile!

Just say that it's pathetic and cliche. Alejandro's clearly just pulling the charm on me again. He always does that when he wants to get into my good books and schemes. It was the dirty Latino's way of knowing what was going on. It was his way of knowing how to stop me, or assist and then get in my way. So I have to make sure I'm foolproof against it this time, even if I always fell for that same trick before. That same damn manipulation. He always pulled out those stupid pick up lines before actually manipulating.

He does it so often that it's like it's his hobby to mess with my mind.

"Well, I don't want it," I turn away from Alejandro, frown growing as I think of who could've told him about me being rideless.

It was due to them that I was now in this situation. This situation where I was talking to someone I didn't have time to talk to. Alejandro always is a slippery conversationalist and so it's difficult to actually get to an agreement with him. It's also tricky to know when his motives aren't double-edged, his signature play being his perfect poker face.

"Don't be like that, mi amor," The Hispanic seemed to plead, his tone gentle and understanding. Another sign that he was prepping 'persuasion'. "I'd rather get you home safe than have you walk alone on these cold, dark streets."

My back's still turned, but a slight smile can't help but form. So...he wanted to play like that, huh? He wanted to use excuses and make it seem like he actually cares. Well, I'll just do my best to stomp them out then, making it all worthless against my iron guard.

"I'm not your 'amor'," The words leave in a hiss as I finger quote his words. I emphasize on the annoyance too, hair flipping over my shoulder as I turn and sniff. "Plus I know you just want to get into my good books again. You do this every time I have a good scheme planned."

With this scene Sierra was most likely having a field day. In fact I could spot it from the corner of my eye, her smile and expression saying it all. In fact she even leaned her bike against the school wall, intrigue and excitement evident as she watched the show. A show that would most likely be fuel for her 'Aleheather' theory. I bet it'll be another topic of her babbling that I'll probably have to listen to at the next meeting or phone call.

Thanks for that Al.

I turn my attention from Sierra to the Latino, my eyes meeting his. He still had that smile, it looking more like a smirk as he lifted a brow in a sign of challenge. He knew exactly what I was doing and so he was playing it further.

"Oh no, not this time," He kept up the act, smile soft and genuine. He shook his head. "I was just truly concerned. If anything were to happen - "

I can't take it anymore. He's being way too soft and 'sappy'. As a result I'm gonna have to play the 'ultimate bitch card' and just demand that he take me just to shut him up. Yes that seems like the right escape just about now.

"Fine, I'll get in the car if it shuts you up," I stomp over to the passenger side, rolling my eyes and huffing the whole way. I then pause at the door, the frown fading as I looked at the school-blogger. "See you later Sierra."

I then get in the car, dreading the ride and the conversation it was bound to lead to.

~Courtney~

"So...you wanted to meet?" I take a sip of my milkshake, brow raised as I study the person across from me.

As per usual, she had asked that we meet at an ice-cream parlor. Milkshakes, ice-cream and whatever was desired was ordered and we made our way towards the booth at the back. The booth that obscured us from view. It was once we were there that my source had begun babbling about silly topics, asking me if the milkshake was ok and detailing petty gossip of the lower years in school. In fact she spoke about everything except from what she called me here to meet for.

Talk about wasting time.

"Yes, I did," My source nodded, a grin on her lips as her ginger curls bounced. She chuckled as she stirred her spoon through her sundae. "You see a few shady things have gone on that I've noticed. Things to do with...Heather."

She whispered the name, narrowing her grass green eyes as she giggled. Clearly my source was going through another spell or had taken something she wasn't meant to before meeting here. I mean it would explain why the redhead is currently so giddy and immature. Although that was her normal behaviour...

"Ok, ok calm down," I shake my head, sighing as I watch the redhead spoon ice-cream into her mouth. She missed a couple of times and laughed when it fell back into the bowl or on her clothes. Her green clothes that looked like they were made of expensive material. I could never dream of ruining clothes made of expensive material, let alone laughing as I looked like a crackhead. Clearly this redhead took nothing seriously.

As a result I decided to try and sober up my source, or at least get the information I needed out of her. After all my source was the key to finding out how to sabotage Heather. She was one of the few people who knew how to beat the system and sneak under Heather's nose after all. Therefore this loony redhead was crucial to my plans and I needed her to make sure that Heather didn't get the one-up in this situation.

So it came as no surprise to me when I roughly grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket and shook her vigorously.

"Listen Izzy I need you to be serious right now," The words come out in a hushed growl, causing her green eyes to widen and yet still be dancing with mirth. However I wasn't done there, I needed to make my intentions clear. "You're my one chance at stopping Heather and if you can't help me the - "

The redhead began to laugh at that, curls bouncing with her frame as she guffawed right in my face. It was loud, mirthful laughter, tears forming in her eyes as she continued to chuckle. It was the type of laughter that was infectious - contagious. The sort of laughter paired with teens doing stupid things. However my laughter didn't join Izzy's. How could it when it seemed that she wasn't taking me seriously? In fact it seemed like she was taking this all like one big whole joke, this situation meaning not half as much to her as it did to me.

So naturally I was only insulted further.

"Why are you laughing?" My grip tightens on her jacket, dragging the laughing redhead further across the table. A glare forms and I could feel the deepness of my frown as I looked at her, gaze intense and serious. "This isn't funny you know."

"Oh I know that," Izzy chuckled, wiping away tears. She sniffed as she adjusted her sleeves. "But when you're angry, your face is absolutely priceless~!"

Another bout of laughter follows and all I can do is roll my eyes. She's honestly hopeless.

Mumbling as Izzy adjusted her jacket and took another spoonful of ice-cream, I let her go. I was done with her antics. She always liked to play it up before actually getting to business; This time was definitely no different too as she began to dig around in her bag. A few moments later and Izzy was looking professional, jacket straightened and face seeming plain as she pushed her ice-cream bowl to the side.

"Ok, you wanted to talk so we're gonna talk," The redhead then put on some glasses, getting a hair-tie to tie her hair. "We're going to talk, but before we do..."

A look of caution crossed her features, brows creased as she placed her hands together. In a few short moments Izzy had gone from crazy junkie to professional therapist. In fact she wore the professional front well, the glasses oddly blending.

"Are you sure about this?"

Izzy looked at me, green eyes clear and lacking the usual unpredictableness they usually owned. In fact they were similar to a parent asking a child about whether they were sure about something. Her eyes were calm and guiding, cautious. That look alone made me uncertain, a shiver traversing my spine as I met her gaze. Her cool, clear gaze. Izzy never was the serious and so trepidation had to be used. The redhead was a tricky character after all, but she usually wasn't so foreboding with things.

"What do you mean 'am I sure about this'?" I chuckle slightly, playing with my sleeve. "This is what I've wanted to do since finding out - "

"Since finding out about Duncan, I know," Izzy released an exasperated sigh, a hand running through her crazy ginger locks as she rolled her eyes. She huffed as she looked at me again, a bit more fieriness to her eyes. "But are you really sure about this, Court? I know I may seem like a nutjob sometimes, but doing this can really fuck a person up. Are you sure you wanna risk becoming someone like me or Heather?"

My mind stops at that. Izzy's question was a good one. Did I want to be like her or Heather? Did I want to become a gossip mogul and rule the school or work for its elite? Or did I want to not stoop that low?

I...I knew that I didn't want to be Heather. I didn't want to control people through gossip and petty verbalist threats. But I still had to make sure I had defense against her attacks, and to do that I had to beat her at her own game. I had to...stoop to her level.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I nod, a smile not managing to form. Instead I watch as Izzy gives me a sad nod, bending to rummage through her bag once more.

"Ok," Her voice came out cheery as she set a portfolio onto the table. "Let's get this started then."

Then everything moved on, the question from before being brushed aside as if it were nothing more than a speck of dust.

~Heather~

I slam the car door shut behind me, head not turning around as I walk towards my front door. The drive from school to my home was...interesting. Alejandro seemed to really be concerned with what I had planned, saying that if I fucked it up then things could fall into shambles. Then that would lead to the social system becoming devoid, then the running for prom royalty becoming an equal playing field and maybe even uprisings from the usually divided lower classes.

As a result he wanted me to accept his help so that things couldn't become a mess. He wanted me to rely on him because I quote on quote 'needed him' to make sure things didn't go to shit. In short he wanted to play the knight in shining armor. Barf. Talk about corny.

The thought alone was very touching, perhaps even persuading, but I couldn't see Alejandro's only motive as wanting to help me. He was the shadiest of the untrusted, his motives and actions always having a double-edge or meaning. Even I made sure to tread extra carefully around him. He's always a slippery subject. As a result I knew that Alejandro was never one to act to 'help others' in the way that he's pitching himself to me. I knew he was just using it as an excuse.

Therefore I don't trust him at all.

I approach my front door, key immediately entering the lock and opening the door. It's only when I'm halfway through the door that I turn to look at him, his voice catching my attention.

"So, will you consider my offer?" Alejandro called after me, a brow raised.

I mentally scoffed at that, rolling my eyes as I swiftly glanced over him. That was highly unlikely with my suspicions on his behaviour, but I still had to make him think that I 'valued' his input. After all there were times with Alejandro was useful, I just needed to wait until he was. So a smirk can't help but form as I calculate my response, knowing it would help to persuade.

"Yeah, I'll consider it."

The door then slams shut, my smirk growing as everything begins to fall into place. Right into perfect place.