A/N: A bit of fluff, a bit of angst and a bit of cringy humour - this chapter got it all folks.
I do not own Total Drama, all rights reserved to the respective owners.
I closed my eyes hard as we sat down with our food at an empty table. I could feel myself regretting the words I spoke the instant they came out my mouth. "What are we?"
"What do you mean?" Duncan asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched me, his mohawk lumping with the force.
"I mean", I started and cleared my throat, bracing myself for whatever answer he had stored away for this moment, "what is this? This thing between us." My hand flew carelessly over the table, gesturing between the two of us.
"Lunch?" He quirked an eyebrow but soon followed the innocently questioning look with a lopsided smirk.
"You know what I mean", I said and narrowed my eyes, annoyance seeping into my tone.
"It is whatever you want it to be", Duncan said and leaned back in his chair, trying to straighten the green hair that stood up crookedly on his head.
"What about breakfast?" I asked, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth as I waited for him to stop fidgeting and start speaking, hoping he would remember the conversation we had had.
"What about it?" Clearly he was enjoying making me repeat the things said that morning, shown by the smirk he still wore. His eyes however traveled down my face to rest on my lips, if only for a second, before he snapped them back to hold my gaze.
"You're not seeing anyone", I started, looking down at the tray of food in front of me, "and I'm not seeing anyone…" I trailed off in hopes he would fill in the blanks himself, but he didn't open his mouth to speak, forcing me to continue. "Whatever we're doing, whatever's going on… are we exclusive?"
"Baby", he chuckled but sat up straight in the chair, folding his hands together as he leaned on the table, "that's what 'not seeing anyone else' means." Before I could quip back that I knew the definition of exclusive and that I was wondering about our status, our table got three new occupants.
Bridgette sat down next to me and Geoff and DJ sat down on the other side of the table.
"What are you guys talking about?" Bridgette asked as she started poking around in the stew with her fork.
"Nothing", I shrugged while Duncan blurted out 'exclusiveness'. My eyes went wide with panic and my foot found his leg under the table. He jumped at the kick to his shin but played it off as a forceful sneeze.
"Like limited edition?" Bridgette asked and waved with her fork as she leaned on one of her elbows. A drop of stew landed in her water but she didn't seem to notice.
"Yes", I answered a little too fast, glaring across the table at Duncan, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.
"Oh, speaking of", Geoff joined in, "there's this new soda with chocolate and mint." He took a big bite out of his food, only mumbles and hums coming out as he tried to continue talking about the beverage.
"Which sounds good in theory", DJ cut him off and Geoff shut his mouth to chew properly, "but tastes absolutely disgusting."
"You need to try it, man", Geoff said after a loud gulp, and turned his head to Duncan.
"Will do", he answered with a nod as Geoff took another, equally big bite out of his food.
As lunch went on the topics changed; from the new baking pan DJ got as a celebration of his cat's health, to Bridgette's trip to Malibu next summer, to Mrs. Jacqueline's annoying 'only french in the classroom' rule. Eventually we made our way outside, to my favorite tree, and the conversations about school continued on until the bell rang.
I managed to drag Duncan aside as the others went to their respective classes and quickly and quietly told him to meet me at the campsite after school. My worried thoughts had quieted down as he had more or less confirmed our statues during lunch, though we still had much to talk about.
I was the first one of us to make it to the campsite. I never really lingered around the school in the afternoon like I did in the mornings; the quad and hallways were overflowing with students and the chatter made my head hurt, while the mornings were peaceful and at times beautiful as the sun shone between the buildings.
If you overlooked the empty beer cans and cigarette butts, the campsite was beautiful too. The leaves on the trees were thick and the sun shone in between branches, casting a yellow glow at the uneven circle in which the bench and tents were.
I poked at the fireplace with a stick as I sat down on the wooden seat with my knees drawn up close to my chest. I had repeated quietly to myself what I would say to Duncan, what I would ask him and what he may've asked me. The thoughts swirled around too fast and as I tried to grip on one for long enough to think it through properly, it slipped away in an overflowing sea of wonderings and words.
"Do you want it lit, babe?" His voice broke through my whirling mind as he sat down next to me on the bench. I shrugged in response but stopped the poking as he leaned forward to set some of the wood and paper on fire. "Care to tell me what we're doing here?"
"Talking", I said and looked up at him, letting my cheek rest atop my knees.
"Not so much of a conversation when you only say one word", Duncan teased and bumped me with his shoulder. The simple gesture made me relax a bit and I smiled back at him.
"You know how, during lunch, we said we were exclusive?" I said, not really knowing where I was going.
"Yeah", Duncan nodded and I was surprised to see the seriousness in his eyes. Normally he would reply with a joke or rude remark, though I suppose he understood the time was not right for any of that.
"I, uhm", I started, looking away from the intense blue of his eyes, instead shallowly resting my gaze upon the embers trying so hard to grow into flames, "I like that. I mean-I don't want us to see other people."
"I like that too", he confessed. I could feel him move closer to me on the bench and drape his arm along the backrest and without thinking I leaned back farther, his arm softly grazing the back of my shoulders.
"And I-I uhm-I like you", I blurted out, my brain too slow to stop the words that fell out of my mouth; or maybe it didn't want to stop them.
Duncan's arm dropped from the bench down on my shoulders, a silent confirmation of him listening and understanding, prompting me to continue.
"I like you", I repeated silently, like I was realising it for the first time myself. I tucked my legs underneath me, leaning slightly into Duncan's side and immediately absorbing the scent of lavender and petrole. "I don't want to tell anyone yet." My voice was small and sounded almost fragile, like I was a kid begging shyly for a lollipop.
"That's okay", Duncan said and squeezed my shoulder. He didn't sound mad or disappointed, nor did he sound especially happy. I dared a look at him through my lashes and was met by his eyes looking back at me. It was an intimate moment, not like the ones we had found ourselves in in the last two weeks, but still one I wouldn't want to share with anyone else.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did, babe", Duncan answered with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at the lame answer and looked back at the fire; the flames had engulfed the papers and were starting to climb atop the wood. "Go ahead", he said after a few seconds, rubbing my arm apologetically.
"Why are you not home?" The question had been on my mind since the first time he showed me this campsite and it had only gotten louder and louder as the days went on. Last Saturday he had told me he called home to make sure his father was not around, his father who had kicked him out in the first place. I knew it was a sore spot, but I needed to know what had happened. I needed to understand his situation and I wanted to help.
Duncan swallowed audibly and the gentle rubbing of his hand on my shoulder stopped. I could feel him turn his head away. "My dad", he started with a sigh, "he doesn't really like me."
"Why?" The question slipped out of my mouth before I had time to think about it and stop it. It was a stupid question, one that he probably thought about too much anyway without my curiousness.
"Because I'm not the one he wants me to be", he shrugged, the answer sounded more like a question, like he didn't really know himself why.
"Who does he want you to be?" I sat up straight and turned my body to look at him properly, the shift making his arm fall off my shoulders.
"Him", he said bitterly, "or Jonas or Paul or Max. Anyone that isn't me."
"You don't talk about your brothers that often", I noted. Usually when they were mentioned it was in passing, like when he would talk about Max eating all the pancakes for breakfast or Paul coming home from college over the weekends. It was well known that Duncan's brothers were taking after their father, training to be police officers, and that made him grow apart from them over time.
"We used to have fun when we were younger", Duncan said, breaking me out of my thoughts, "we would steal bikes and see who could make it down a hill the fastest", he chuckled.
I remembered once years ago when I couldn't find my bicycle for an entire weekend; it was back in the same spot I had parked it in that Monday morning though and I had written it off as my parents taking it away because of something I had done. "I think you took mine once", I said, remembering those two days that I was bored out of my mind.
"Probably", Duncan snickered, but the joyful expression of a good memory soon vanished and back came the scowl and frown.
"What happened?"
"Jonas was going too fast one time", he sighed, staring at his clasped hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees, "lost control of the steering and came back home with cuts and bruises all over." I put a comforting hand on his shoulder and silently urged him to continue when his eyes met mine; he was finally opening up and letting me in and finally I understood. "Pops lost his mind, going on about how irresponsible we all were." A shaky sigh escaped his lips and he turned his gaze back to his hands. "I was only eight. I cried."
"I'm so sorry, Duncan", I mumbled, my free hand reaching up to cup his face. My thumb stroked his cheek gently.
"He yelled at me, screaming about how weak and soft I was being, how I had to grow up and be more manly if I ever wanted to achieve anything in life." How weak and soft I was being. The phrase repeated itself a hundred times over in my head and I realised the nerve I had stepped on two days ago was one full of bad childhood memories. You're a real softie.
"That's horrible." My parents had been passive aggressive while I was growing up, ignoring and using me to get back at each other, but Duncan's father had outright disrespected him in front of his peers and shattered his confidence.
"Yeah, well", Duncan shrugged sadly and bit down on his bottom lip. He sighed loudly before continuing, "so I did what he wanted, I manned up, and", he gestured haphazardly to himself; his ripped jeans and the dark colors that clung to his body, the spikes scattered across the fabrics glistening in the sunlight, "still hates me."
My hand had dropped from Duncan's face, lying openly on his knee and I found myself looking for his hands when he let them fall back down. My fingers crept across the pale skin of the back of his hand before slowly - unsurely - embracing his hand with mine. His blue eyes shot up to mine, full with curiosity, and his hand turned in mine, making our fingers intertwine. The corners of my lips twitched up in a small, gentle smile before I leaned in for a kiss.