Hello again :) I apologize that this took so long. School started. -pukes- Haha, yeah. So here is my update. I watched TDAS and ohmygod. I was pissed at Gwen. Not gonna get into that. Also not going to give too much away for those who haven't seen it. But it was awesome oh my. It's gonna be a good season, guys. I was fangirling and my brother yelled at me. Anyway, I will let you get to reading~ Love yoooou! One more thing. When Courtney is yelling, it is in spanish. I always thought she looked a tad bit hispanic, and this year I have to take spanish. If the spanish isn't quite right, Blame google translate. Anyway, read and review and I will love you forever.

Disclaimer: I don't own Total Drama.Darn shame -snaps-

-A hangover is the revenge of grapes-

Courtney Pov:

I am starting to drift back into consciousness, and my head feels like it got hit with a million bricks. I turned over in my queen side bed, clutching my pink polka dotted comforter.

There is a boy. In my bed.

Shit.

"¿Quién diablos es usted?" I yelled. "¿Qué coño pasó anoche?"

"Morning to you too, Sunshine," the punk looking boy molded his lips into a smirk.

Oh, god. No. No. Nope. No. This can not be happening. We didn't.

"Oh mi dios de mierda," I mumbled, fuming. "Please tell me we didn't." I tried to get up from my bed, but my dizziness instantly betrayed me. The brick feeling in my head intensified.

"Relax, Princess. We didn't do anything," Punk Boy insisted.

God, I hope not.

"Then why aren't you wearing a shirt?" I asked, skeptic and nervous.

"Well, Princess, you got drunk. And puked. On both of us." He gave me a hardening look.

Dammit, Bridgette, this is why I don't go to clubs…

"Shit." I broke my gaze with Punk Boy and saw a very asleep Bridgette across the room.

Ugh. I un-dug my purse from the corner of my room and searched for some Tylenol to get rid of this killer fucking headache. And a cigarette.

"Want one?" I asked with a softer voice.

"Sure, Princess. Never pegged you as the smoking type though," he shot me a skeptical look.

I stepped out to the second floor balcony and flicked a flame onto my purple lighter. I handed the small lighter to the mohawked boy next as I took a long drag.

"So, what's your story?" He shot me a curious look.

"What story?" I happen to have a lot of them. And not many that I am willing to tell; especially to a complete stranger.

"Good girls, like yourself, always have a story of why they start doing something so un-good girl like. Like smoking. So what's yours?"

I suppose I could tell this story. It's not exactly of importance. "Well, I started when I was fifteen. It was finals week, and I was so stressed I thought I was going to die. It was stupid, because my school made it so all of our exams were in the span of like two days. And I've smoked to get rid of stress ever since. It's a gross habit, I know. And it pisses Bridgette off a bunch. But it helps," I shrugged. "Does the delinquent have a story?" I pressed.

"You see, I am not good. Or a girl. So, nope. No story. Just to piss my parents off."

I nodded in understanding. Punk kid was a pretty cool guy. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

"So what did you say your name was again?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"Dunkie is how you put it last night," he smirked. "But it's Duncan."

I cringed. "That bad, huh."

"Yeah. It was pretty funny watching you convince Malibu Barbie to let me come home with you," he chuckled and winked at me. I shuddered as I took another long drag.

"So," Duncan began after a long silence, and about half a cigarette. "Was there a reason for you getting completely shit faced last night?"

I was shocked, to say the least. No one has ever asked me that before. "And you care why? I don't mean to be rude… But, we just met."

"Well Princess, I could have nailed you last night." –Slap! "Okay, ow. I wasn't done, Drama Queen. But I didn't. Do you know why?" I shook my head. "Because one, I could get you completely sober. Two, you looked really helpless. It was kinda hot, honestly. But I didn't want to take advantage of you. I may not be a good guy, but I am not that twisted. And three, Malibu was looking over my shoulder the whole time. Now are you gonna tell me?" He finished.

"Not a chance." I threw the butt on the ground and stomped it out with my slipper. I'll probably regret that decision later.

"Will you at least go to lunch with me?" Duncan shouted after me when I started walking back inside.

"And why would I do that?" I inquired with crossed arms.

"Because something could have happened to you last night if I had not taken you safely home," he fluttered his eyelashes at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, okay. I'll go to lunch with you." Duncan smiled at me.

I smirked. Stupid punk. We'll never be a thing.

But he is kind of cute…