A/N: Happy holidays everyone, and thank you all so much for the love this story gets! I will try to get the next chapter up before the end of the year
I do not own Total Drama, all rights reserved to the respective owners.
EDIT: While re-reading this chapter I realised the name of Courtney's dad's coworker changed in the middle of the conversation, so I fixed that by adding a second man.
It felt like the next two days dragged on for forever, like the seconds turned into excruciating minutes, making the hours feel like days; as if time stood still.
I could barely think about anything else other than the incoming banquet and what reason Heather had for thinking her father would believe me.
I spaced out during French, making Bridgette nudge me with her shoulder every ten minutes so I could keep up with Mrs. Jacqueline's lecture. English class was a lot harder; usually I thrived in having strangers around me, easier to focus on the assignments, but having no one to drag me out from the loop in my head made my work suffer.
I spent the lunches leaning against the tree trunk with a book in my hands, even though I didn't read a word of it. We were all wrapped in jackets, trying hard to enjoy the last rays of sunshine and its warmth before it got too cold to spend the free periods outside. If the weather continued on this path the temperature would dip into the negatives within weeks and the year's first snow would follow shortly. I kept staring at the words in the book, flipping a page every so often, as the same questions from before kept repeating themselves in my head.
When I walked home that Friday, the path leading to the campsite called my name as I walked past it; telling me to ignore Heather, let her deal with the consequences of her choices herself, and instead lay down in the uncomfortable tent and sleep the weekend away. But I knew I couldn't do that. I couldn't jeopardize my dad's position in the company. And I couldn't jeopardize my relationship with Duncan.
"I picked up your dress from the dry cleaners", my mom's voice rang through the foyer as I closed the door behind me. I kicked my shoes off, hung my jacket on the rack and followed her words into the living room. She was sitting on the couch, with her feet tucked in under her and a magazine in her hands.
"I don't understand why you had to drop it off in the first place. It wasn't even dirty", I said and crossed my arms.
"Mija", she sighed irritably and closed the magazine over her thumb, still marking the page she was reading, as she looked up at me, "the stores themselves are dirty."
"Did you put it in my room?" I asked, suppressing an eye roll at her unmotivated bias.
"Yes", she flipped open the magazine once more, "it's hanging on the hooks." She licked her fingertip and used it to turn a page, making it clear the conversation was over. But as I started climbing the steps up to my room she spoke up again. "And be careful!"
The dress was beautiful. It was floor length and red and had a steep back, dipping down to my waist.
I touched the fabric delicately, like the threads would come undone under the pressure of my fingerprints.
"The only reason this night might be even a little fun is my dress", I said into the phone, a sigh escaping my lips.
"Tell me about it", Duncan said on the other end. He had called me an hour after I'd gotten home, worried about my behaviour the last couple of days. I tried to brush it off as nothing, telling him about the banquet instead of Heather.
"Well", I started, "I bought it last week. It's body hugging, but not tight, and the skirt widens after my hips, kind of like a mermaid cut but higher." Maybe it was because it was the newest, but that was my favorite dress.
"Honey", Duncan chuckled, "I have no idea what a mermaid cut is." The line went quiet for a second and I opened my mouth to explain it to him, but he cut me off. "But they're hot and so are you, so it's fitting."
I could feel the blush blossom on my face and a smile followed suit. "You're stupid", I said and shook my head, sitting down at the edge of my bed and opened one of the textbooks I had taken home to study.
"Can't be that stupid", he retorted, "I got you, didn't I?"
"Like I said", I giggled and laid down on my bed, my hair fanning out underneath me as I shook my head again, "stupid."
The banquet was held in the ballroom of the most luxurious hotel in town; when a higher up retired, the firm splurged on the festivities. The hotel was quiet, an aging man greeting us in the reception, but no guests running around. It wasn't until you entered the hallway leading up to the ballroom that you heard the people inside, the chatter getting louder with each step I took closer.
My mom had on a dark dress with a trail dragging after her, the front was a lot shorter, only ending at her knees. She was beside my dad, locking arms as they walked down the hallway, even though they hadn't spoken a word to each other the entire day.
The ballroom was huge. The walls were white with huge windows looking out over our little town, and the ceiling was high. There were at least twenty round tables scattered all throughout the room with ten chairs at each. The right hand wall of the room was free from tables, however, and in their place stood a small stage with a ten-man-orchestra on it. The band was already playing their instruments, filling the room with light, classical music that tried hard to not overpower the different conversations going on.
"Mr. Cadenas", a voice announced, breaking me away from my scanning of the room.
"Ah", my dad said and shook hands with the tall man that had approached us, "Mr. Leahy." He looked about the same age as my dad, not more than five years older, but the graying of his hair and the deep set dark circles under his eyes aged his appearance severely. Behind Mr. Leahy stood a much older man, presumably in his late 60's already, and my dad turned his attention to him."You've met my wife, Jane", my dad said and gestured to my mom who held out her hand to the older man in front of us, "and this", he said and inquired me, "is my lovely daughter, Courtney."
"It is great to meet you", I said and shook his hand, "Mr. Uh-"
"Mr. Callahan", the man finished my sentence with a polite smile and a firm shake.
"Callahan", I repeated before letting go of his hand.
"Quite the grip you've got there, Courtney", Mr. Callahan said before continuing with a chuckle, "With strong hands like that you can get far in the business world."
"I plan to", I answered with a smile. Mr. Callahan then led my dad and Mr. Leahy away from the doorway, away to a group of five other men in suits, leaving me and my mom standing alone.
"Good first impression", she said and turned to me, "they are very important in the real world." The compliment made me smile, but as she added on to the sentence I felt the corners of my mouth drop. I hated that expression; 'the real world'. Like everything before the age of twenty was imaginary.
"I'm going to find our table", I said in response, knowing beforehand that an event this size would certainly have a seating arrangement. As I walked along the tables, carefully running my fingers along the backs of the chairs I passed as I read the placement cards, a wave of long, raven hair caught my eye. Heather was standing with what looked like her parents, chatting away with an older man I knew worked at the same company as my dad. She was laughing every so often, laying a hand to her chest or covering her mouth politely as the man kept talking.
I slowly made my way over to the quartet, trying to inconspicuously catch Heather's attention. Her eyes flicked over to me and she laid a hand on the older man's upper arm, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Please excuse me for a moment."
I stood near one of the still-empty tables, my arms crossed lazily, maintaining my relaxed composure I had had before I spotted Heather. "I thought you said you wouldn't be here", I said as she came up next to me, a smile still on her lips.
"If I want people to believe you, I had to at least make an appearance", Heather explained with a shrug. Her reasoning was logic and I slapped myself mentally for not figuring it out myself. "Love your dress by the way." The comment - or compliment - was said with genuinity and shock and it confused me even more.
"So", I said and let out a breath, "care to tell me where you are sneaking off to?"
"Not that it is any of your business", Heather answered, punctuating the last word through her teeth, "but I'm going on a date."
"And you couldn't have just told you parents that instead of lying to them? Instead of making me lie to them?" Even though they were conservative and, obviously - since they were here -, knew the importance of knowing the right people and making good, strong connections early on in life, they surely would've understood that their teenage daughter wanted to spend a few hours doing teenage stuff with another teenager.
"You're the one to talk", she scoffed, crossing her arms as I let my fall down my sides. "You're lying to everyone at school", she pointed out, "including yourself."
"Really?" I sighed, furrowing my brows as I spoke, "Can't we just have one interaction that is mildly enjoyable and without threats?"
Heather bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. "Fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bartender to chat up before I leave." She waved at me with her fingers as she left toward the bar. I didn't even bother to stop and tell her that every drink served tonight would be non-alcoholic; they always were at events such as this.
"You two know each other?" The man who I assumed was Heather's father stood next to me, a drink in hand.
"We go to the same school", I nodded and looked at him. He was not very tall, but had sharp, strong features that transformed his otherwise ordinary frame to a handsome one. He shared the shape of his nose and the color of his hair with his daughter. His eyes, however, were more narrow.
"She mentioned something like that", the man said quietly, more to himself than to me. We both watched as Heather leaned her elbows on the countertop, crossing her legs at the ankles, as she talked to the young guy behind the bar.
"I'm Courtney." I offered out my hand for him to shake, subconsciously hoping Mr. Callahan hadn't lied about my handshake.
"Mr. Phan", he replied and shook my hand and I noticed the slight curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes that showed pride and acknowledgement. "So who do you know at this gathering?"
"My daddy works for the firm", I answered with a smile, searching the room to point him out, "he's over by the stage."
"There you are, Courtney." My head snapped to the side, coming face to face with my mom. Her sudden appearance made me jump a bit, making me bite down on my tongue. "I found our table." I eyed the room once again, more and more people had taken a seat at the tables and ten waiters had slipped through the door leading to the kitchen, standing near the wall, waiting for a signal to bring out the food.
"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Phan", I said with a single nodd of my head before letting myself get dragged away by my mother; her gripping my wrist.
Before we got to the table, however, I saw another familiar face. His hair was different, dark and messily styled, and his usual body jewellry was taken out. He stood near the doorway, hands in the pockets of his black pants. It wasn't a suit nor a tuxedo, but it was more dressed up than I had ever imagined seeing him; a black dress jacket, matching his pants, and a light t-shirt.
"Excuse me", I said and pulled my arm gently from my mom's grip, "I have to- uh- excuse me." She eyed me curiously but let me wander off.
I headed toward the hallway and, as I passed the doorway, I gripped his hand and pulled him with me. We walked in silence as the chatter and music from the ballroom got lower with each step we took.
As we rounded the corner, out of sight of the other party guests, I stopped and turned to him. "What are you doing here?" My voice was low, as if making sure no one overheard us, and a mix of relief, frustration and genuine shock. It was stupid of him to show up, but the thought that he had done it for me warmed my heart and made my stomach flutter. "And what happened to your hair?" The neon green had been replaced with an almost natural black and the mohawk had been combed down; his hair reached to his jaw when it was down like this.
"Colored hairspray", Duncan smiled proudly and looked up, like he would be able to see the new color atop of his head. "Thought the green wouldn't be too popular."
"What are you doing here?" I repeated, a warm expression on my face as I started to understand the sudden change in style; he didn't want to make a bad impression, he didn't want to make me look bad.
"Couldn't not take the opportunity to see you in this." Duncan lifted a hand and put it on my waist, rubbing the thin fabric between his fingers with a satisfied expression. I felt myself ease into his hold and the warmth within me only increasing as our gazes met. "You said you didn't want to come", he answered truthfully with a slight shrug, "I wanted to, I don't know, keep your mind occupied from all the shit."
"That is so sweet", I said and lifted a hand to cup his cheek, stroking his skin lightly with my thumb. "And may I say you clean up nicely."
"Whatever", Duncan scoffed and rolled his eyes, though a smile broke through as he settled his gaze onto me once more. I did a quick look around before leaning in and letting our lips meet. Both his hands came to rest at the small of my back, pressing me closer to him. I could feel his heartbeat as he pressed our chests tightly together and the scent of lavender swirled their way into my nose.
"Later", I said as I broke the kiss, a big smile on my lips as I silently promised him more. It had been long since we'd done anything other than kiss and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as his eyes glinted with excitement.