A/N: I'm not sure whether this chapter turned out bad or good. I've written and rewritten it what feels like a thousand times and I can no longer form words properly. I wanted to get Courtney's thoughts on her and Duncan's relationship straightened out without being too obvious and in your face about it. I need your reviews and feedback now more than ever!
I do not own Total Drama, all rights reserved to the respective owners.
The weekend passed by without any excitement. My dad came home late Friday night and the tension at breakfast the next morning was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Will talked with joy in his voice as he waved around with his pancakes, neither mom nor dad giving him any attention other than mumbles and hums in uninterested agreement.
I studied, painted my nails with a clear coat, hummed along to songs, took a relaxing bath with lavender oil that my mom had brought home from Toronto - unbeknownst to the new memories I now associated with the smell - and talked to Duncan at night before bed. I could feel the week and all its drama wash away as I scrubbed my skin and smiled at our conversations. It was refreshing to leave it all behind, being reassured by each other that we were okay despite the gossip mill and Heathers attempt at interferences.
I traced my fingers around the fading lilac marks around my hips as I listened to Duncan talk about anything and everything that crossed his mind; about the new sticker he put on his motorcycle helmet, about a hilarious incident from the police academy Jonas had told him, about how he didn't want to study for his math test, about how his father had acknowledged him with a nodd and eye contact at breakfast, about how weird it felt to spend a weekend not seeing me. Knowing Duncan, that was as close he would get to admitting he missed me, and, even though I didn't want to admit it, I missed him too. It was a sentiment that was odd to even think about. I had spent so much of my life disliking him and his attitude, only accepting him if others were around to cool me down or the seldom seen moments when he was genuinely sweet and nice; like that friday three weeks ago. Yet, there I laid, laughing at his jokes and wishing he was in the bed next to me.
We had inched closer and closer together as the first two days of the week came and went, accidental bumps and caresses had become more frequent and his hand on my thigh was a constant if we sat at a table that could hide it.
It wasn't until Wednesday that the bizarreness of our situation dawned on me again, when I walked out of the locker room into the football field for PE. I had a jacket on, my hands stuck deeply into the pockets, it was too cold to have gym class outside, though our teacher didn't seem to care about that fact. DJ and Bridgette sat on the sideline of the field, the latter wearing her boyfriend's oversized hoodie for warmth. They had their backs to me and didn't notice when I walked up behind them.
"It's just weird." I heard DJ say in a low voice, leaning towards Bridgette to make sure none of the other students sitting near them overheard their conversation.
"You're overthinking things." Bridgette answered, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.
"Am I though?" DJ asked, his right hand waving in the air as he continued. "She let him drive her on his bike. Courtney got on a motorcycle with the dude. Courtney!" He said again to emphasize his point.
The statement shook me back to reality, away from the warming memories of lingering touches and smiles promising more, back to what I had thought about us four weeks ago and what everyone around us was currently thinking; us, together, it was weird and bordering on unbelievable.
I gathered my thoughts, their thoughts, and took one last step forward to the pair sitting in front of me. "Yes?" I asked in feigned curiosity, like I hadn't just eavesdropped on his suspicions. For a second I wondered if he were confident enough in his previous statement that he would ask me about it. And for a second I thought about answering it truthfully.
"Courtney", DJ repeated, this time in shock as he looked back at me, "I, uh, was just wondering where you were."
Duncan and Geoff came out of the locker room and walked up to us before I had time to answer his attempt at an excuse, Geoff bending down to give his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead and lovingly rubbed her arms to give her some more warmth.
"Alright, people, gather 'round", Mr. Fletcher, the gym teacher, called from the corner of the field, and, ironically, he too was wearing a jacket.
After gym class I lingered around the field, hoping to catch more of the conversation if it was brought up again, though, like he had known, DJ was the first one to disappeared behind the door to the boys locker room.
I watched as Geoff and Bridgette embraced each other before parting ways with big smiles and I felt a sting of jealousy at their display of love. I had grown up with parents that never touched in public, except for the simple kisses on the others cheek during cocktail parties or work events; only enough to maintain the image of a happy marriage and a perfect family. It wasn't until Geoff had started pursuing, and eventually dating, Bridgette that I realised what real affection was. But a part of me still clung to my parents. And maybe that was why I had such trouble accepting my own feelings.
"You're gonna get cold", Duncan said as he came up beside me and slipped my jacket over my shoulders. I had taken it off during PE, the running and jumping generating enough warmth in the not-yet-too-cold weather.
"Thanks." My voice was quiet, distracted; my recent realisation still fresh in my mind, circling around and around and around.
"Hey", he said, stepping in front of me, a worried look on his face, "is something wrong?" I shook my head no but he didn't look convinced. "Come on", he probed, "tell your Dunky." A huge grin spread across his face as he repeated the nickname that had slipped through my lips last week.
"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" I scoffed humorously and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I met his gaze. The deep blue of his eyes were beautiful, drawing me in closer like a fish to the depth.
"Never", Duncan repeated softly, his piercing gleaming behind his teeth as it caught the light. He lifted one hand to cup my chin and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, replacing the previous grin; it was contagious and within seconds I was smiling too.
I could've lived in that moment forever; his lightly callused fingers stroking my skin gently, my eyes swimming in his, our smiles mirroring each others. It warmed me inside out, even with the cool wind blowing in my hair. In that moment my parents love - or lack thereof - was stuffed away in a cardboard box deep inside my brain. In that moment I didn't care who saw us and it wasn't until later I found out that we had not in fact been alone in the field.
DJ and I stood by my locker, talking as I packed in the books I no longer needed and out the ones we would use for our next class when she approached. Her slim hand pushed the door to my locker shut with a bang, startling both DJ and I.
"I really liked that display of yours", Heather said, her manicured nails scraping against the metal as she withdrew her hand.
"What display?" I asked, genuinely clueless, and turned to face her. I could feel DJ take a step closer to me, sizing up the intruder and her agenda.
"The sweet moment you had out on the football field, of course", she answered sweetly with a shrug like it was no big deal. Realisation washed over me at her statement and I narrowed my eyes as they met hers in a silent battle.
"What-?" DJ started.
"It's nothing", I said in a haste to cut him off, only breaking eye contact with Heather for a second to look back at my friend reassuringly.
"Nothing", Heather repeated, snapping back my attention to her, "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that's how you feel."
"What do you want, Heather?" I sighed and crossed my arms. I wondered how many times we would have to go through this same routine; Heather threatening my relationship with Duncan, insulting me in the process, before going our separate ways with nothing having changed.
"A favor." It was an unexpected answer and my face scrunched up in disbelief and thought as the words left her mouth. I had been waiting for another punch, not a plea.
"I don't think so", I scoffed and shook my head, still baffled by the request. Heather sighed at my response, and it sounded more like disappointment rather than annoyment, but she didn't turn around and leave.
"You scratch my back, I scratch yours."
"Like a quid pro quo kind of situation?" I asked, intrigued by the unexpected turn our conversation had taken, and folded my arms over my chest.
"Yes, okay", she said in a haste, her usual 'in-control' composure gone. She quickly shook herself back to normal, however. "You do this for me and I won't expose you."
"That's not a favor, it's blackmail. If you're going to extort someone, buy a dictionary and do it correctly."
"Please", she scoffed, her hand waving in the air as if to flip her hair, even though it was on the other side already, "you should buy some better insults."
"Ahem", DJ cut in abruptly, faking a cough to catch both of our attentions, "Courtney, we should get going." He pointed to the hallway stretching out behind him. It had become empty since Heather had walked up, only one or two students loitering around their lockers or enjoying that last minute before a test. I sighed as the conflicting thoughts buzzed in my head; got to figure out what Heather wants, get her off my back, but at the same time I had never missed a class.
"You go", I decided eventually, "I need to deal with this."
"Are you sure?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. It was not just unusual for me to skip or be late, it was unheard of, and even if it pained me to stay in the hallway I wasn't willing to risk going; if mine and Duncan's relationship was to come out, it shouldn't be from her gossiping mouth.
"Yeah", I nodded, "see you in class." It wasn't until DJ disappeared around the corner that I turned back to Heather, her head cocked to the side as she too had watched him leave.
"Your bodyguard is cute", she said, "But insufficient"
"What's the favor?" I sighed, wanting nothing more than to get it out of the way.
"My father is forcing me to go to this company banquet with him on Saturday. I know you're dad is going to be there, and I assumed you would too."
"You assume right." It was one of the biggest banquets this year, a lot of potential investors and sponsors were invited. One of the heads' of my dad's law firm was retiring, and taking his sponsors with him, making it extra important to make a good impression on the ones that may take their place one day.
"And you see, I can't go." I understood her lack of enthusiasm for the event. It would be a boring few hours filled with non alcoholic champagne, live music, too low to even hear and too inert for anyone to care, and small talk about christmas cards and childrens football practices.
"Why is that my problem?" I asked, my lips pressed together and my forehead scrunched in confusion.
"Because", Heather stretched out the word as if my question was beyond ridiculous, "if I don't show up, daddy won't be happy, and if daddy isn't happy he's unlikely to invest."
"Really? Threatening my dad's business", I said and shook my head, biting on my lower lip in an attempt to not flare up at her for even speaking the words. "I thought you were better than that."
"Do I occupy your mind a lot?", she asked with a hairflip and a smirk on her lips. "I'm going to need you to cover for me", she continued, disregarding her rhetorical question. "Tell him I'm in the bathroom or out talking to someone, I don't care, just keep him busy and off my ass."
I uncrossed my arms with a sigh. "He won't believe me."
"Don't worry so much." Heather's lean fingers dragged along the crease forming on my forehead, smoothing out the line. "You'll get wrinkles."
And with that, she walked away.
It was hard to avoid DJ's questions during the next two hours. I gave him vague answers and clutched my hands together in hope of him letting it go. If I could get by until the weekend without fueling the rumors or suspicions, I could talk to Duncan; fill him in on the latest Heather news and try to talk things through. It had only been one week and two days since we exchanged mutual confessions of our feelings and already it could've gotten fucked up if I didn't play my cards right. And I wanted so hard, so much, to not fuck it up.