I do not own Total drama nor do I own any of the characters!

Okay, third installment. Not exactly sure I hit the mark with this one. It kinda took on a mind of its own after a while. Ah well I can't always be right.
Reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

3. Don't go

Heather brushed back her hair and glared at the deadbolt on her front door. Today had been, absolutely, the shittiest day of her life. First, Lindsey blows off their lunch date to go down south with Tyler for the weekend, then her car breaks down on her way back from the restaurant, then-after having her car towed- she finds out it's gonna cost over seven-hundred bucks to get her car fixed. So, in light of that information, she had to call a cab which dropped her off six blocks from her apartment so she had to walk home and, just when she thought it couldn't get worse, it started to rain!

Now she stood outside her apartment, dripping wet, achy and pissed at the world and she couldn't get in. Why? She left her key sitting on her counter and her spare was in her car. She banged her head against her door and sighed, her dark hair falling into her face and rain drops running smoothly down her pale skin. Some were warmer than other, but she wasn't about to admit that they were really tears. She was far too stubborn for that.

She didn't know how long she stood like that- her head pressed against the door, eyes squeezed shut and fists balled at her side- but it was long enough for her legs to start to cramp and the muscles in her back to tighten. Finally she decided enough was enough and pulled her phone out of her purse-which had remained mostly dry as she had shielded it with her body. She had no choice but to call a lock smith since the apartment manager had only three keys: both of hers and his own. Sadly he wasn't going to be of any help since he and his family were somewhere in Europe. After quickly googling a local locksmith's number, Heather punched the digits into her phone and waited. One ring, two rings, three rings. She was about ready to hang up when a hurried voice answered the phone.

"Burromuerto Locksmith." It was a woman's voice and she sounded breathless, like she had just dashed two blocks or something of the sort. Heather hesitated, wondering if she should hang up and try another locksmith but the woman continued to speak. "This is Rosa, how can I help you."

"Erm…yeah. I've locked myself out of my apartment and I don't have my spare key on me. Can you send someone down here to get my door open for me?" The woman was quiet for a minute before speaking again.

"Doesn't your apartment manager have a key?" Heather explained her predicament to the woman on the other end of the line. She was quiet again and Heather could hear muffled whispers, as if the woman had covered up the mouth of the phone. She waited patiently and listened to the muffled Spanish that filtered through the receiving end of her cell. After several moments of muffled speak, the woman's voice returned. "We'll just need the address of the building you live in and your apartment number and someone will be right over." Heather relayed her information and the woman confirmed it before promising someone would be there with in the hour. Heather hung up the phone.

With nothing better to do with her time, she sat down beside her door and waited. Time crept by and she found herself glancing at her watch like a maniac. At one point during her wait, Heather closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. It seemed like seconds later she was being shaken awake by a strong hand. She opened her eyes, blinking groggily up at the face before her.

To say he was good looking would have been an understatement. He was tall, well built with long, dark brown hair and beautiful green eyes. His skin was a deep even tan and he wore a pair of dark work pants and a navy blue polo; the words Burromuerto Locksmith were stitched over the breast pocket. He arched a dark brow in her direction and she rubbed her face.

"You must be Miss. Chang, and this must be your apartment." He said professionally. Heather stood slowly, her knees cracking as she did so. Every muscle in her body ached and she nodded, leaning heavily against the wall.

"Yeah, that's me. What gave it away, the fact that I'm sitting outside the door?" She rolled her eyes and checked her watch, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. "You're three hours late." She mumbled, crossing her arms over her still damp chest. The locksmith shrugged his shoulders.

"I had other appointments." When he spoke Heather swore she could smell alcohol on his breath. Other appointments my ass. With a heavy sigh he got to work on her locked door, muttering in Spanish as he did so. Heather stood awkwardly by the door and watched him work. He looked familiar and his last name sound familiar as well. She couldn't place it though and it really started to bother her. The silence between them stretched on until it was at the point where she couldn't take it anymore.

"What's your name anyway?" She questioned. He didn't answer. "Um, hello?!" He still said nothing. Heather growled. "Answer me!" He had seemed to have hyper focused on the task at hand because as soon as she screamed at him his eyes focused and darted up to her face. His eye brows pulled together in what she assumed was either anger or annoyance and he sighed.

"Alejandro." He answered in a clipped tone. Heather chuckled and he looked up at her again. "What, may I ask, is so funny?" She shook her head and heard the lock to her door click. Alejandro turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal her dark apartment. "There."

"Great. I'll go get however much it is I owe you." She slid passed him into the apartment, flipping on the lights as she did. She disappeared into her bedroom to strip out of her damp clothes and into something warmer and dry.

Alejandro stood awkwardly in the living room of the apartment, shifting from one foot to the other. He knew this girl all too well, but she didn't seem to remember him. He had change since he had last seen her and now he was standing in her living room and ready to bolt. It wasn't like him to run from the opposite sex, but this particular woman was more cunning than a fox with a bite more toxic than a Black Mamba. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes darted about the room.

What was taking her so long?!

Just when he was about to leave, forgetting his payment and just leave, she came out of the bedroom. Her long hair was pulled back away from her face and she had changed into a baggy t-shirt and a pair of lose jeans. She carried a check book in one hand and a shiny, hardcover book in the other. She sat both down on the counter and stepped around into the small kitchen where she began a pot of coffee.

"Would you like to stay for coffee? "She questioned her tone much softer than it had been just moments before. Alejandro shrugged indifferently. Though the offer was tempting, he really needed to go. After voicing this Heather just shook her head. "Alright. How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty-five." He said slowly. Heather opened her check book and scribbled out the information. After she was finished she turned to the other book she had brought out and began flipping through it mindlessly, as if she had forgotten Alejandro was standing there. Utterly annoyed and finished with this game he stomped across the apartment to snatch the check away, but as he got closer he could see just what it was Heather was looking through. It was an old high school year book. He paused and eyed it with narrowed eyes and she just grinned down at the page.

"Your hair was shorter then." She said, looking up from the year book. Alejandro shrugged his shoulders.

"You're not exactly a mirrored image either." He said coolly as he leaned against the counter. Heather rolled her eyes and stepped back into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"I grew up." She stated, setting a cup down on the counter. Alejandro took it and peered down at the book. Their pictures were right next to each other, Alejandro with his pretty boy smile, and cropped dark hair and Heather her long hair lose around her bare shoulders, her hard dark eyes glaring at the camera.

"I can tell."

The two had sat in silence while Alejandro flipped through the year book. He muttered things in Spanish that Heather didn't bother trying to translate. She leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee quietly and watched him. How could she have forgotten him when he had played an important role in her life. When they were freshmen in high school, Heather had been sure she would marry Alejandro one day. They had met in biology on the first day of school. He had been a geeky looking boy, squeaky voiced and awkward, not that she had been much better. Puberty had been a bitch, especially to Heather. She was all long limbs and un-proportioned, unaware of make-up and lacking fashion sense. The only thing she had was her attitude which helped her rise to the top of the food chain, Alejandro at her side. They had bickered constantly and, over the years, when they weren't fighting they were making out under the bleachers. He had been her first love, her only love.

But then her mother got a job offer in England and Heather had been moved half way around the world, breaking off all contact with those she had once known. She had come back around her twentieth birthday and had reconnected with the people she had gone to school with. Lindsey, who had been her 'macaroni-and-cheese' friend, her special-but-not-so-bright sidekick in high school had told her that after her move, Alejandro sunk into a dark place. The last year of high school he became a real ladies man and then after graduation he disappeared.

She remembered the day she told him she would be moving. It had been the last two weeks of their junior year. Her parents told her they would be gone by the end of the month so she had only a few weeks to say good-bye to her friends. She feared having to tell Alejandro because she didn't know how he would react. She thought he would get angry or not show any emotion at all. Even the stone-cold Queen Bee didn't want to lose her best friend. When she did tell him, three days after she had found out, she hadn't expected him to do what he did.

Alejandro remembered it vividly. They had been walking home from school and she just blurted it out. He had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, waiting for her to tell him it had been a joke. She didn't, she just watched him. Everything crumbled around him and he hadn't realized he had begun crying. That's right; he, Alejandro, the coldest, most ruthless ass in their school had started crying.

"Don't go." He had begged. He knew his parents would let her stay with them, they loved Heather. But Heather told him she had to and had run off. That had been the last time Alejandro had really seen Heather. He had avoided her best he could; only really seeing glimpses of her at school. After she left he had started dating girls left and right, leaving a trail of broken hearts the length of the Great Wall behind him. None of them were a replacement for Heather but it seemed to dull the pain.

Now he sat at her island, looking at the year book and reliving painful memories. He closed the book slowly and looked at Heather with cold eyes. She just glared back; her face lacked any other emotion.

"How long have you been back?"

"Eight months."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you're not exactly the easiest person to find." She responded coldly. She poured the rest of her coffee down the sink and put the cup in the dishwasher. Alejandro rolled his eyes and pushed the book away, locking his gaze with Heather. Behind her icy eyes he could tell she was hiding something. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. Maybe it was because he had known her for so long he was still able to read her like a book. She shook her head and reached across the counter, her fingers grasping the check book. She tore the check out and thrust it in Alejandro's direction.

"Here." She muttered. "I know this is the reason you been standing here." Alejandro took the check, folded it and stuffed it in his pocket. "You can go now." Though I wish you wouldn't. Alejandro looked at her one last time and walked to the door of her apartment. She stayed where she was, waiting, watching. He reached for the door knob and pulled the door open, disappearing into the hallway.

She leaned against the counter for several seconds before she darted across her apartment. She tore the door open. "Alejandro wait don't—"She stopped and stared up into his green eyes. "Go…" She sighed.

The two of them just stared at each other for several, long and torturous seconds before Heather finally murmured,

"You know, you left without finishing your coffee."

"That's because it was shitty coffee." Alejandro responded with a smirk. Heather narrowed her eyes.

"What do you mean it was shitty coffee?"

"Heather, you couldn't get me to drink that coffee even if it was the only thing left in the world to drink."

"Oh and I suppose you make better coffee?"

"I do actually."

"Prove it!"

"Fine!" Alejandro walked off and Heather turned to follow. She slammed her door shut, paused and cursed. "I hope you know another locksmith because I'm off duty." Heather rolled her eyes and walked passed Alejandro.

"I could always just ask Jose." Alejandro's gaze was murderous and Heather just smiled. Rekindling their friendship was going to be fun.