Courtney's POV

"Hey, honey." I hear my mom say on the other side of the phone. Her voice sounds sweet, but it's all a lie. She is never sweet. I'm about to hang up the phone when I hear her talk again. "Please don't hang up."

"Why shouldn't I?" I ask, venom leaking in my voice. Duncan is lying next to me, looking at me confused. He lifts up one eyebrow at me, mentally asking me who it is. I shake my head at him, not wanting him to know. I'll probably tell him later.

"I need to talk to you." my mother pleads. I don't believe any word she says. I know my mother, and I know for a fact that she is a good actress.

"Do you know?" I fire back. I wanted this conversation to be over with already.

"Courtney, please. Me and your father really want to talk to you."

"I'm listening."

"We wanted to come over to talk to you face to face..." she trails off.

"Then why didn't you?"

"We were afraid that you would run away."

"You know me so well." I say in a mono-tone voice.

"Do you think we could come over-maybe on Saturday- and talk?"

I think over my mothers request in my mind. Worst thing that could happen when they come over is that I could walk out of the house and ignore them for the rest of my life, which really isn't that bad seeing as I barely even know them. So after thinking it over I agree to let them come over.

"I can't wait to see you." she says, it almost sounds like she's crying. Almost.

"I can." I reply bitterly before hanging up.

I put the phone on my dresser and lie on the bed. Duncan drapes one arm over my torso. He knows that I'm no longer in the mood for anything, and just lays there. I'm thankful for it. I don't know if I could talk about it right now. So instead of asking me question, he just rubs small circles right above my hip.

"I know that you want to know who it was." I say, not looking at his face.

"If you want to tell me you can. But if you don't I understand." he replies. I can feel his gaze but I don't want to look at him.

"It was my mom." I get out between clenched teeth.

He waits to see if I'll say anything else.

"She wants to talk to me."

He keeps waiting.

"My parents are coming over on Saturday..."

It's all I can get out. The pit of my stomach is starting to twist into a big knot. It makes me want to puke.

"Do you want me to be there with you?" he asks. It is the first time I look at him since I got the call. Looking at his face makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. It's all Duncan can offer for comfort when it comes to my parents- to be there. I'm so grateful for it.

"Yeah." I whisper, my voice is starting to shake. A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye and trails down my face. Before it can reach my jaw, Duncan's finger stops it. "I'm tired. I need to sleep."

Duncan just nods his head and pulls the blankets over the both of us and wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest and zone off into the land of dreams.

*On Saturday*

It is finally the day my parents are coming. I did no preperation to make the house look nice, I didn't even get dressed up fancy. I didn't care what they thought, so I didn't try.

I wore a beige see through sweater with a dark brown undershirt, black skinny jeans, and dark brown ankle boots. I pulled my hair into a side braid. And finally put on some dark brown eyeliner on the top of my eyelid.

Duncan on the other hand went all out. He wore a black button down shirt, black jeans, and black dressy shoes you only see at a funeral, church, or a wedding. He took out all peircings, hid his tattoos, and didn't style his mohawk. It looked weird, but it worked for him. It just looked like any other guys hair with little flecks of neon green.

"What's the occasion?" I ask.

"I'm meeting your parents." Poor thing was so nervous.

"So?"

"So? These are your parents." I roll my eyes. "These are the people I'm going to call my in-laws. I'm going to see them on holidays, and at our wedding, and when we have children. They are going to want to come over all the time! Especially since you are their only child. I don't want them hating me."

"First of all they aren't going to hate you. They are going to love you because they need to get in good with me. Also because you are an amazing guy that treats me right. Plus you haven't done anything to hurt me or to make them upset." But something in the back of my mind says, He did cheat on you. He's thinking it to, but we both don't say it. "Second of all, you have been think about our future?"

"Yeah..." he scratches the back of his head. The thought of him thinking about the future makes my heart leap. Not only does he want to marry me, but he wants children. It's not everyday a guy says these things.

"Can you tell me what it's like?"

"You know... We both go to college and get good jobs that we love to go to. Then I ask you to marry me and you say yes and spend a whole year being a bridezilla. But it'll be okay, because I love you. Then we have your idea of a perfect wedding and buy a bigger house, because we need room for the children. And after a couple of years of being married we have a couple of children and buy some family animals and live happy."

"I like that..." I say while a smile grows on my face. If that is our future then I want it more than ever. I walk over to him and plant a kiss on his lips when the door bell rings. Time for the show to start.

I lazily walk over to the door and open it. There stand my parents, looking more perfect than ever.

My dad stands tall wearing a red polo shirt and black jeans, with black sneakers. He was probably going for the casual look, but looked like he came back from the country club where he played golf with his friends and drank beer. I look alot like my father and acted a little like him. My father-David- had dark brown hair and light green eyes with olive tone skin. His face was defined with a tight jaw and detailed cheekbones. Everything about him screamed sharp, which was the exact opposite of him.

My father was more of the relaxed out of the two of my parents. He liked to have fun, but when it came down to it, he would be very professinal. He was laid back and never took things too seriously, always cracking a joke here and there. My mom on the other hand was nothing like this.

My mother was wearing a black pencil skirt, purple blouse, and black high heels. She had light blonde hair, black eyes, and a fair skin tone. I looked a little like my mother when she was younger and acted a lot like her-though I didn't like to admit it. Her face was more rounded. With big round eyes and rounded cheeks. Her lips plump, and her nose small. She screamed soft, which was far from her.

My mother was more serious. She was always professinal and never up for a joke. She took things way too seriously. You could never know if she was at work or at home hanging with her family. She was a perfectionist. She couldn't stand it if things didn't go her way. Basically, she was me.

"Hey." I greet before walking into the house.

My parents follow. Duncan waves hi to my parents. They smile and wave back.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Corcoran." he greets.

"Hello, Duncan." they say back in usion.

Duncan has never met my parents before, I was always strict about it. It's not like they were ever around to meet him anyway. But they did know about him. Probably more than they needed to.

I walk into the living room and sit. I take one of the seats meant for two people and duncan sits next to me. My parents sit on the full sized couch.

The living room was anything but cozy. The black curtains covered the windows so no outside light could come in. The only light that came out was from the lit fire stove. The room belonged to a Tim Burton movie. The chandelier was a gothic black and hung from the roof, looking as if it was about to fall and crash us at any moment. The walls were a deep red color, that matched the black rug. The couchs were a deep red. Everything in the room was either black or red. Red walls and couch. Black chandelier, curtains, and coffee table. The only thing that wasn't either of the colors was the fire.

The only people who fitted in the room was my mom and Duncan. Me and my dad stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Court..." my mom starts.

"What?" I spit out, giving her a glare.

"We need to talk... About what happened..."