DODGING THE BULLET
A TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND STORY
A/N: I hope you liked the last chapter, I actually thought it was pretty good instead of my usual. And to bunnyboo, I'm not ignoring you, I just didn't have time to put you in my author's note. It's a good idea, thanks! I might try to fit that in somehow. It's just really hard for me to imagine Courtney getting pregnant, you know? So I hope you don't think I think it's a bad idea, I just think it would be hard to write. If you feel like starting me off, I could try to turn it into a chapter, you could email it to me at snapcracklepop/at/rocketmai/com/. Thank you! I don't know how my email address is going to actually show up on the story page, so if you can't read the email above, check my profile page, it should be there.
One more character will be added in this chapter, Cody as Eric.
One more song that I feel suits this pairing (I'm always finding good ones):
Fall for You, by Secondhand Serenade
And yes, whoever guessed that the fainting in Biology would come next, you're correct. You might find this chapter similar to my chapter 'Who Knew Frogs Could Lead to Fluff?' in Life for Rent, but it will differ slightly.
Oh, and school started today, expect updates in the afternoon from now on, except for on weekends.
CHICAGO718
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CHAPTER FIVE: EXCUSES
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Courtney's throat was stinging and dry when she woke up. She gulped down a few cups of water and felt better. She was still confused about Duncan saving her.
Needless to say her image of him had changed completely. He couldn't be that bad if he was willing to risk his own life to save her. She had thought he was selfish.
She hated to admit it to herself, but she could picture him leaned over her the day before. It was a bad thing. She and Duncan couldn't be together.
I'm thinking way ahead, she told herself. Just because he saved me from an oncoming car does not, by any means, mean anything at all. Like, I don't hate anyone enough to let them killed. Of course, anyone would have done that. It just so happened to be him that time.
She felt better immediately. It was stupid to think that of Duncan. He was still that boy who was untouchable to people like her. And it would remain that way, hopefully until they graduated.
Her mother was delicate around her that morning, as if she was a precious crystal vase that would shatter at the slightest touch. Courtney was annoyed at her mother flitting around her like a maid.
"Mom, I'm fine! You should be worried about Justin!" Courtney snapped.
Her mom looked taken aback. "Of course I feel bad for him," she replied, shameful. "You're my daughter, though. I don't want you hurt."
Courtney softened. "I know, but I'm fine. Duncan pushed me out of the way. I'm great."
Her mom smiled. "Alright, alright. Just get to school."
Courtney couldn't enjoy her car, it was now destroyed beyond repair. She climbed into her mom's car and left for school, wrapped up in thoughts.
The rain was sheeting as she pulled into the lot, taking one of the bigger spaces now that she was without her compact car.
Courtney saw a few people walking through the parking lot give her a wide berth, like some sort of invisible force field was around her.
She understood. She had become that girl. There was always that girl or boy at every school. She had heard about her mother's school's that boy. He had brought a flare gun to school and tried to kill himself. She had heard her dad's school's that boy. He had actually killed his mother.
So there she was, that girl who had almost gotten crushed to death by a car.
Couldn't it have been Justin or Duncan?
She was a good girl. She went to church, she prayed, she got good grades, she never stole or lied. So why was Duncan the one with all the luck?
She put her hood up and started walking towards the brick building, hoping to get there before anyone could talk to her.
No such luck.
"Princess," a voice said behind her. She shut her eyes tightly and pretended not to hear, walking by. A hand spun her around to face Duncan.
"What do you want?" she demanded, stamping her foot lightly.
He looked at her, his expression amused. "I was wondering if you were doing anything on the day of the spring dance--"
Courtney glared at him, putting her hand on the car next to her, which happened to be Duncan's. "Are you trying to be funny?" she interrupted, narrowing her eyes through the fleeting rain up at him.
"Will you let me finish?" he said lightly, still cordial.
She looked at her feet; it was easier to concentrate that way. "What, then?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to Mount Shasta on Sunday," he said coolly, as if it was absolutely normal to go from hating her one day to asking her to someplace next.
Courtney pondered it, slightly shell-shocked. She hated Duncan; she did want to see Mount Shasta. She had heard it was more of a cliff than a mountain; it was beautiful, she had seen it on the Internet.
She suddenly realized she wasn't breathing, she had been staring into Duncan's eyes instead; he looked amused. She snapped her head down, taking inconspicuous breaths of air. It was ridiculous she should feel faint.
"I want to see it," she said breathlessly for a second, then realized what had popped out. "But…not with you."
His eyes darkened. "Why not?"
"Because it's stupid that you should hate me one day and ask me to Mount Shasta the next," she blurted out. She was once again looking at her shoes, tracing the mud spots with her eyes.
He lifted up her chin with one finger so that she was looking directly into his face, her heart spluttered erratically. She interlocked her pointer fingers and twisted them together. "I saved your life. You owe me."
"So I repay you by going?" she asked incredulously.
He let go of her chin. "Yes."
She bit the side of her cheek; she could only imagine all the embarrassing things that could happen, alone with Duncan. And this was probably all just a bet with Geoff and Trent. See if you can get the preppy new girl to go on a date with her then discard her like a used tissue.
"I'll think about it," she said finally. That means no, she thought.
Luckily he couldn't read minds. He smiled with his dazzlingly straight white teeth. "Good."
He turned to walk away. Courtney was left alone in the wet parking lot like a drowned cat to ponder what had just happened.
As she walked into the school, pulling down her hood, the principal pulled her aside. "Courtney."
She turned to him. "Oh, hi, Principal Franklin."
He straightened his tie, fidgeting in it as if it was too tight on his froglike neck.
"You've been switched into the other Biology class. A new student especially requested Miss Laughlin, and I think you'd fit in very nicely with your new class."
She shrugged. "Okay."
Principal Franklin walked away, making choking noises and pulling at his tie. She rolled her eyes and walked to homeroom.
When fifth period rolled around, she headed into her new Biology room. A young, petite, pretty teacher sat at the desk, crossing her legs. She looked like she would be a perfect victim for the hormonal teenage boys in her class.
She looked around the room. Her heart stopped then picked up at three times the previous speed when she saw Duncan sitting at a table with two chairs, the other one unoccupied.
"You must be Courtney Anderson," the teacher said, pointing to a name card on her desk. "I'm Miss Willoughby."
"Oh, yeah," Courtney said, nodding. "Hi."
Her teacher scanned the room and her eyes lit up when she spotted Duncan. "Ah, you can sit next to Duncan over there."
She looked over. The primal look she had spotted the day before on Duncan was back with a vengeance. She twitched slightly. "Isn't there anyone else I could sit with?"
Her teacher looked at her, confused. "I'm afraid not."
Of course, just her luck. She slunk over to the desk and slung her backpack onto the seat back.
He looked like he was about to say something but obviously the fact of her being paired with him in Biology until next semester was punishment enough. He closed his mouth again.
Courtney folded both arms on top of each other on the desktop, allowing her long, straight, brown hair to fall over one shoulder, creating a barrier between them. She could still feel his eyes boring through her sheet of hair. She bit her lip and looked at Miss Willoughby.
Duncan raised his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"
The teacher nodded. "Hurry up."
Courtney threw her hair back over her shoulder as soon as he was gone.
"Okay class," the teacher said, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm normally used on first graders. "Today, since we've been studying the human body, I thought it would be fun to know your blood type. The Red Cross donated some of these materials; we'll be turning in our cards at the end of this period so hopefully they'll be back next week with your blood type information."
Courtney paled. Oh, no. Blood. She wasn't good with blood, not even her own.
"O-kay," the teacher said slowly as she picked up a sterilized needle and pricked her finger. A thin red line appeared and three drops of red blood spilled onto the white card. "What I want you to do is pick up your sterilized needle, prick your forefinger, not too hard, mind you, and put no more than three drops onto the white card. Understood?"
There were murmurs of excitement, whispers, and giggles as her classmates pricked their fingers. The sound of blood dripping onto the card seemed to be magnified ten times in Courtney's ears. The white card in front of her swam in front of her eyes. She put her head in her folded arms.
"Courtney?" a female voice said anxiously in front of her, alert with alarm. She couldn't hear it very well, all she could hear was that ringing in her ears.
"Oh, dear. Are you alright?"
"No," she groaned into her arms.
"Can you walk to the nurse's office?"
"I don't…think so," she breathed, trying to ease away the nausea with deep breaths. Just get me out of here, she thought. I'll crawl.
"Can someone assist Courtney in walking to the nurse's office?" Miss Willoughby said, raising her voice.
She didn't have to raise her head to know it was Cody. He didn't have the nerve to approach her and ask for a date like Justin, but he had been following from a safe distance like a golden retriever since school had started.
He seemed eager to put his arm around her waist. Courtney opened her eyes; everything swum. She closed them again. Darkness was better.
"Put your hand in your pocket," she warned, pressing her lips together. Cody nodded.
After a while she felt her stomach lurch.
"Please, just let me sit down," she begged. Cody obliged and sat her on the floor against the wall. She tilted her head back and opened her eyes, breathing slowly.
"What's wrong with her?" a voice said from down the hallway, coming closer. It was a guy, she could tell.
"She didn't feel well when we pricked out fingers in Biology, Duncan," Cody said.
Oh, it had to be him!
"I can take it from here, Cody," Duncan said, his voice suddenly much closer, his mint breath washing soothingly over her face.
"Miss Willoughby said I should do it," Cody said defensively.
Duncan ignored him. Courtney's eyes flew open wide as she felt her feet leave the ground; Duncan had just picked her up as if she was thirty pounds lighter than her actual weight of one hundred fifteen.
"Put—me—down!" she demanded, kicking her feet in hopes they would land in the right place. No luck. She would have to stop counting on luck; obviously it wasn't on her side. She felt her stomach wobble.
Oh please, please don't let me throw up on him, she begged God.
"You look like death," he commented with a grin. She pounded a fist again his chest, which, sadly, was solidly rock-hard.
"Let go of me!" she insisted. The swaying of his walk was rocking her stomach uncomfortably.
"Can you walk?" he asked slyly.
She glared, then sighed and put her fist down.
"I didn't think so," he finalized.
He supported her with one hand while pushing the nurse's office door with the other. A round, red-headed woman was standing behind the desk, snapping gum while straightening her glasses as she clicked away on her computer.
"Oh, my," she sighed as she saw Duncan holding a not-so-happy Courtney.
"She got sick in Biology," Duncan explained, setting her down with surprising gentleness on one of the tan, faux-leather cots. Courtney breathed a sigh of relief; she hadn't gotten sick all over him.
The nurse nodded understandingly. "We have one every year."
Duncan suppressed a smirk by coughing, then went to lean in one of the corners as the nurse gave her an ice pack.
"Feeling better?" she asked kindly.
"Yeah," Courtney replied, pressing the ice to her cheek. The nausea was fading, the ringing had disappeared, and the white walls stayed where they should.
"You just sit until you feel better," she sympathized, patting Courtney's leg and going back to her desk.
"So, you faint at the sight of blood. And not your own, either," Duncan smirked, leaning against the wall with one hand, as soon as the nurse was out of ear and eye shot.
She glared at him, pressing the ice harder. "I didn't faint. I just don't like blood."
"Whatever floats your boat, babe," he said coolly.
"Don't call me babe," Courtney emphasized, saying the word 'babe' like an expletive.
"Sure, darling," he said sarcastically.
Courtney pulled the ice away from her face; she was too annoyed with Duncan to be nauseous.
"Here comes another one," the nurse warned as she came into the room before a sick-looking Ezekiel with Cody supporting him.
Courtney jumped up to free the cot and watched Ezekiel lay down, clutching his stomach. His finger was pricked; a small stream of blood stained the tan fabric of the cot. Courtney quickly left the room.
After a minute, Duncan joined her with his hands in his pockets, along with Cody.
"You look better," Cody accused Courtney, giving Duncan a dirty look.
"Just keep your hand in your pocket," she replied.
"It stopped bleeding a while ago," he informed her, taking his cut but unbloodied finger out of his khaki cargos pocket to prove his point.
Courtney bit her lip. It was obvious Cody was still bitter. Did he not understand that it wasn't her fault?
"See you in gym," Cody murmured sourly, pushing the nurse's office door open with one hand.
"Shit," Courtney muttered. Gym.
"Stay here. Sit down and look sick," Duncan told her.
Courtney sat down on one of the beige folding chairs and leaned her head against the wall, trying to imitate the expression she had worn while sitting on the floor with Cody.
He walked up to the nurse.
"Anything you need, dear?" she said, looking up from her screen, undoubtedly, into his very blue eyes. Her look became glazed.
"Yes," he said. "Courtney here has gym next, she doesn't feel very good. I was wondering if I could drive her home?"
"S-sure," she fluttered. "Do you need a slip?"
"No, I have Miss Jennings, she won't mind," he said.
"You feel better, dear," the nurse said, her voice losing the fluttery aspect as she addressed Courtney.
"Mm," Courtney replied with fake weakness.
Duncan's expression became sarcastic as he turned his back on the nurse. "Should I carry you to the car?"
Courtney glared. "I'm fine."
He held the door open for her. For once, she was glad to see rain. The cool drops washed her face of the sticky perspiration.
"Thanks," Courtney said, forcing the words through her lips. "I mean, for getting me out of gym."
"No problem," he answered.
They reached the parking lot. Courtney turned to the right; she could see her mother's car, luckily undamaged, sitting there.
"Uh…bye," she said, turning towards the car.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice suddenly low and furious. Something grabbed the hood of her jacket.
Courtney backtracked a few steps. "Home?"
"I promised the nurse I'd take you home safely," he said, his voice on the same low note. "I can't let you drive home in your condition."
"What condition?" Courtney asked, confused. "Let go!" He had started dragging her towards the car. "What about my mom's car?"
"I'll bring it to your house tonight," he replied.
"Ugh! Stop pushing!" she complained as they neared the black truck.
"It's open," was all he replied, getting in the driver's side after pushing Courtney roughly towards the seat next to the driver's.
"You are such a jerk," Courtney grumbled. She mentally calculated the chances of getting into her car and driving away before he could catch her.
"I'll just pull you back," he told her, reading her mind.
Courtney balled her hands into fists, trying to drain away her anger, then opened the door and tried to climb in with as much dignity as one could have in such a situation, which, face it, wasn't much. She was soaked to her skin, her jeans and jacket were stuck to her skin, and she closed the door on her foot.
She sat sullenly and silently in the seat, pulling her knees to her chin, until she heard the song.
"December?" she asked incredulously, forgetting to be mad through her surprise.
Duncan turned off the music. "No." He looked straight ahead through the windshield.
"It was," she insisted, recognizing the tune. "I didn't know you knew George Winston."
Duncan sighed. "Fine. My mom listened to it a lot and it rubbed off on me, I guessed."
Courtney unthinkingly turned the music back on. "Same with mine."
They both listened in silence for a few minutes, the road passing by as Courtney directed Duncan to her house.
"You know I have a rep to keep with," Duncan said suddenly. For some reason Courtney couldn't think of, his expression seemed pained and wanting when he turned to look at her.
"I know," she mumbled, confused. She knew he had a rep.
"And, people expect me to do things," he continued.
"Yeah…" she trailed off, wondering where he was going.
"See, some of the things I do…I don't really want to do them, but I'm forced to, people expect me to, Geoff and Trent and peer pressure, they want me to, and I'm their friend," Duncan said, swallowing. He looked at her with the same expression. "I don't know if you understand what I just said. I want you to."
She did.
"Like what don't you want to do?" she probed.
"Like…like smoking. I didn't want to. I went to a party at Trent's, he gave me one, I took one puff, and now I'm addicted," he explained all in one breath.
She was speechless. So none of this was Duncan's doing?
"Does Gwen know about this?" she breathed.
Duncan gripped the wheel tighter. "Yeah. She…likes him anyway. That's what…" He paused.
"That's what?" she asked, curious.
He looked at her, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "That's what I'm trying to say about you with me." He looked away. She was sorry.
Her heart picked up speed, sputtering hyperactively as she dissected what he was saying. Her throat was suddenly drained of all moisture.
He turned to her again, pausing at the red stoplight.
"I'm still wondering about Mount Shasta," he said mutedly.
Courtney bit her tongue and pressed her knees harder against her chin and chest. She stretched her hand across her knee, watching the skin whiten and become taut, her knuckles prominent against her tan skin.
"Okay," she replied.
The car lurched forward, he made a right, and Courtney's house was there. She wished it had taken longer.
She hopped out, feeling better now that she was pretty dry and her foot was safely escaped as she closed the door.
Duncan lowered the window, for the first time, a smile was faint on his mouth. "And sunshine?"
She turned. "Yes?"
"Try not to get run over by any cars till tomorrow when I'm there to push you out of the way," he said.
Courtney sighed; it couldn't have lasted too long. "I'll try my best," she said sarcastically.
He winked. The car sped out of sight.
Courtney rolled her eyes to herself. She still couldn't be sure about him.