A/N: I reached the 15 reviews… I always wanted to get that for only one chapter. This is huge, thank you. This is the best birthday present you could ever give me on here. :3

Alright... it's been two months I haven't worked on this story, but still... it isn't that bad. At least, it's decent. Hahaa, see you soon :)

I don't own 'Unpretty' by TLC... R.I.P. Left-Eye... I freaking miss the 90s sometimes even though I wasn't born yet in most of it.

++Sweet Lying Truth++

Duncan's POV

Alright, there were two possibilities for it to be true. Either I had abused of the comforting illegal but oh-so good use of weed, which would normally cause me to see rainbow-colored monkeys hung on the wall posters right now, or that hot-as-hell chick almost right in front of me was definitely Courtney Harrington. And, to give you a hint, I hadn't smoked weed in a week, so the first alternative was close to impossible.

So, consequently, she was her. How was it possible? I had no idea… But I had to discover how.

When I was about to snatch a paper out of my binder, the school bell rang, making the whole classroom being cleared in the blink of an eye. Courtney was one of the first ones to leave, probably because she had to find the classroom for her next school subject. I attempted to follow her, but I was soon stopped by Mrs. Dawn, whose annoying nasal voice I heard calling my name right when I was about to leave.

I stepped towards her desk, keeping my distance to be sure she won't savagely attack me without letting me defend myself. She waited for everyone but me to be out of the class, causing me to suppress an angry grumble, and then took her square glasses off her noise so they could hang from the eyeglass chain necklace around her neck. Her deep blue eyes caught my seal ones, trying to make me feel guilty and take pity for her old fragile soul.

Unfortunately, it didn't work for her. I never gave a fuck about any of my teachers, so an old lady would never make me shed a tear and make me realize what I was doing wrong. This was my life, and I would never let anyone spoil it.

Mrs. Dawn gave me a disapproval look, "Mr. Evans, I've noticed you've been sleeping in my class lately."

I shrugged, causing her to frown. My careless behavior didn't keep her from shutting up though.

"Alright, I know guys of your age don't mind their grades, but if you may trust an experimented and clearly more aged person like me, I want to tell you that everything you do now is important. No matter how boring my class is, you need it; don't try to convince yourself you will win lottery and your career will be over. You actually have more chance to be struck by a lightening than this to happen to you. You're a wise young man, Duncan, don't be silly just because it's easier to act stupidly."

Mrs. Dawn was giving me one of her infamous pleading gazes, but I remained indifferent. I had always hated this teacher with a burning passion, and no matter how much she seemed honest, I knew the feeling was mutual. She was always rumbling on my grades, pointing out to the students in class how a bad student I was and even told my parents about my supposedly 'bad habits' as a smoker. She practically described me as a public nuisance, which made me mock her uncontrollably when I heard that.

I smirked at her, managing to give her the fakest honest voice I'd ever have, "Of course, Mrs. Dawn. I will pay attention more in class in the future."

She smiled contently, which was for the second time of the day, "Thank you, you may leave now."

Without arguing, I exited the classroom, pacing in the hallway. Of course, like every Monday, the same scene could be viewed; same couples making out, same cracked out junkies, same flirty jerk offs, same whores selling their bodies for a night of pleasure, same immature geeks. It may seem like a place where you could easily be lost, but it wasn't. In fact, it was easy to find put in this crowd someone that didn't belong here or was new at this school. Those people just didn't fit in the background, and without knowing it they were shining on their own.

After a few steps and glances, I finally found the thing I was looking for. There she was, standing in front of a row of locker, reading a calculus book and looking almost serious. She was pretty tall and seemed sure of herself, even though she was quiet while everyone in this room was speaking loud enough for the third floor janitor could hear them.

Damn, she was hot.

I glanced at myself in the window glass of the trophy emplacement, my face reflecting like it was a mirror. I looked pretty decent. Hasted but still cool, I calmly approached her, and leaned my back against one of the lockers, but I didn't get one single look from the preppy schoolgirl.

I slightly cleared my throat, and spoke up, "Hey, wassup?"

She glanced at me, but seemed uninterested, "Nothing much."

End of the conversation, like she didn't care much if I were there or not.

I teased, "The new girl is shy, is she?"

"I'm just not talking to trolls. Now, please go away."

I smirked, "I thought pretty girls could only say pretty words."

She didn't even flinch, but closed her book and shoved it in her locker. I arched my pierced eyebrow, "Come on, I know you could say something even better."

"What makes you say so?" Courtney said, curious.

"I can recognize nice and smoking chicks when I see them, and you're one of the lucky ones."I said cockily, thinking that actually I'd let her blow me anytime she wants.

"I'm no slut, forget me." The prep snapped, shutting her locker and walking away. I followed her, being even more curious about her.

"I never said so, I just said you were really good-looking."

She turned around quickly, looking at me like I was the worst asshole ever. She was irritated, and I could see this.

"And I bet you're saying this to every girl you meet when she's hot enough to be your girlfriend."

"So you do admit you're hot," I raised my eyebrows, keeping myself from winking deviously at her.

She ignored my comment, "People like you make girls with an already low self-esteem convince themselves they aren't worthy enough. I hope you die in hell, dickhead."

I watched her stomp away as quick as she appeared, leaving me speechless. I didn't know what the heck I had told her for her to treat me like I was the worst person ever.
And I had changed so much since 7th grade, so it was clearly impossible she remembered me, so how was it she was that bitter?

I didn't know, I didn't know at all. I walked away in the opposite direction, trying to forget what I had just witnessed.

-.-

Courtney's POV

My former steady steps turned quickly into a run, a run towards the school girls' washroom. Many other chicks were stupidly fixing their hair with suffocating hair products like gel and spray in front of the wide mirror, others were gossiping shallowly about insignificant things and most of them were just leaving as fast as they entered first. Being too busy talking with each other, none of them noticed my presence in the room, which advantaged me since I was new in this school and the last thing I wanted was to be noticed.

Trying to stay cool, I headed to a stall and locked myself in it, sitting down on the bowl. And I waited, my eyes staring blankly in front of me.

And I've waited for seconds.

Seconds turning into minutes.

Then I thought about what make me end up here, in the girls washroom, lost and angry. I thought of Duncan, and everything he said, also everything I told him.

I felt my throat becoming dry… Like I had something stuck in it sucking the saliva up and trying to kill me. At this very moment, I knew there was something wrong.

Tears formed behind my dark brown eyes, and I shut my eyelids. Before I actually realized what happened, they streamed out water, causing me to cup my face in my hands as a reflex. It was soft crying, nothing really unusual. A soft cry came out my lips, hurting my throat more than it already was. It was followed by another one, and series of others longer and louder and sounding more desperate.

And it's when I actually figured out what truly was the matter.

I hated Duncan, I hated him of all my fucking heart with a damn passion. And it was entirely his fault.

I, Courtney Harrington, was bawling my heart out. And all this because of Duncan Evans; a guy I had supposedly met a few minutes ago.

But I had known for a really long time.

Courtney's POV

13 years old

"You can buy your hair if it won't grow, you can fix your nose if he says so, you can buy all that make up that M.A.C. can make but if you can't look inside you, find who am I too, Be in-"

"This thing is boring," I claimed, turning off the radio in my mother's car on an old TLC song I hated the corny lyrics of. It was now February, and the Canadian winter was coming near its end, but the snow didn't seem to be ready to melt anytime soon.

My mother glanced at me helplessly since she couldn't get her eyes off the road, "I used to be a big fan of TLC back in the 90s… I wish Left-Eye was still alive."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. She continued, "You know, when you were still in my tummy, I used to listen a lot of their music. I thought that maybe you'd be like your old mommy and be a fan of them."

I glared at her, seriously bothered by her too much motherly and loving behavior. Despite the fact she was the one that gave birth to me, I disliked her a lot, especially when she was speaking to me like a kid.

"Stop treating me like a baby, mom and stop using that childish language with me!" I groaned, staring back to the window.

"Okay, fine. Whatever I said, I'm sorry."

I didn't add anything else, thinking silence would be best for both of us since I was seriously not in the mood of talking. Trying to break through my cold attitude, my mother took her right hand off the steering wheel and stroked my brown curly locks, but I quickly told her to stop it.

She sighed, desperate, "Sweetie, I know you're a teenager now and no longer a baby, but I don't want you to desert me just because you wanna look 'independent'."

"Mom, it's not about me changing; it's about you being always on my back and mothering me."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to do my job," Mom claimed, not understanding what my problem was.

Figuring out I wasn't going to talk to her normally anytime soon, she shut her mouth and let it shut for the whole drive back home.

I wasn't bitter to my mom because she truly was pissing me off, I was bitter because I was mad. And tired, and sick. The Christmas party incident had happened two months ago, and still Duncan didn't talk to me about it. When he saw me walking in the hallways, he was faking seeing me, or acted like I didn't exist.

Yeah, like I was invisible and I wasn't human. Like I was chocolate in a candy shop; I was present, but no one noticed.

His ignorance towards me totally pissed me off. After Christmas break, I tried really hard to change; I started to adjust my clothes, keep my hair perfect and even treat my skin problems. Even after all my tries, I still couldn't at least steal a glance from him, which destroyed me.

I couldn't get him, and I couldn't accept this. I was in love with Duncan, and no matter how many times I heard people telling me how young and innocent I was, no one could tell me the contrary.

I turned 13 on January, and when I blew my candles, I wished one simple thing; I wanted Duncan Evans to love me back.

Because, even if it seems crazy, I was in love with him.

Dangerously in love with him.

Courtney's POV

16 years old

The second period bell rang, ending my long weep even though my heart was still really saddened. I shredded a piece of toilet paper, using it as a tissue to wipe my eyes. It hurt somehow, since the outline of my eyes were swollen and red. I got up and unlocked the stall door, and quickly exit the washroom.

While I was sobbing, I of course thought of a lot of things concerning Duncan. Without knowing it, he had ruined three freaking years of my life, and those years would never be taken back despite the fact that I wished they never were lost.

And that jackass dared talking to me again after all he made me go through.

I didn't know how I would deal with this situation yet, but I knew as hell one thing; I'd never cry for Duncan Evans again.

Never ever again.

A/N: All I can say is I'll try updating ASAP... I'm actually working on IDHBY right now, so yeah... I'll try :p

Review :)