Chapter 2

It was already pretty late in the afternoon as Gwen unpacked the last of her things from the brown cardboard boxes that littered her half of the room.

"Whoo!" She exhaled, wiping the sweat from her brow as she admired her handiwork; her various books, DVDs, and other personal effects strewn around haphazardly, posters tacked to the walls at odd angles, a closet filled with clothes; colors ranging from black, to darker black, to even darker- look, this chick really loves to wear black, okay! All and all, it was the type of room that would make a neat-freak overachiever completely lose their mind.

"Perfect." Gwen smiled as she reached into the last box of junk sprawled on the floor and placed its contents on the desk. There was her diary; a thick, bounded black leather tome, double-locked after an . . . unpleasant incident a few years back, her heavily annotated copy of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre (It was her favorite book, because of course it was!), and finally, buried deep at the bottom . . .

"Oh, I forgot I had this." Gwen said quietly to herself.

At the bottom of the box, wrapped in brown packing paper and slightly worn, was an old photo book. Gwen had started keeping it after she made friends with Geoff back during Total Drama Island. The old album was filled with all of her experiences on that ridiculous show, and the others since then, both the good times and the many, many bad ones. Still, it was nice to have around, if only to remind herself of how far she had come. As she thumbed through its pages, old memories came flooding back to her mind; pictures of her and Trent, well before their breakup, one of Owen trying, and succeeding, to down a 6ft hoagie all by himself, one of Duncan, that jackass!

Why did I ever waste my time on him?

There was one of Leshawna, of Lindsey and Beth, of . . .

Gwen paused and stared at the last photo in the book. She remembered it as clear as the day it was taken, and for a moment, her heart sank as she saw those two smiling faces, so carefree and filled with hope, arms wrapped around one another in a casual embrace, completely unaware that their worlds were about to come crashing down.

Inside the worn-out old photo album was a picture of her and Courtney, together again and happy after months of being at each other's throats.

Gwen had always regretted stealing Duncan away from Courtney. Even if they were already broken up, she knew what she did was wrong. She betrayed Courtney's trust and felt disgusted that she let her hormones get in the way of their friendship. She wanted nothing more than to go back and fix that awful mistake. So, when she learned that Courtney was going to be on All-Stars, she jumped at the chance to finally make amends.

Unfortunately, things didn't go exactly as planned.

It took weeks of trying; of begging and pleading that brought the goth girl to tears, but finally, Courtney begin to open up to her. Slowly, the two girls began to rebuild their friendship, much to Gwen's relief. Pretty soon, it was like it was back in the old days, before Duncan, before she screwed things up. Things were so clear, for a time. For just a moment, Gwen believed that Courtney was more important than her relationship with Duncan, more important than winning the million dollars, more important than . . . anything.

Of course, that moment didn't last. Just a day after that picture was taken, Mike (or Mal, whatever he wanted to be called!) revealed Courtney's real plans. She was plotting to have Gwen and the others eliminated one by one, manipulating them just so she could get what she really wanted.

In the end, all she ever cared about was the money.

Gwen pulled the photo out of its place in the album and held it up close. Part of her wanted to just tear it up right there and be done with it . . . but she didn't. Maybe she wanted to remind herself of what a fool she was. Maybe she was afraid of letting go, but for reasons not even she fully understood, Gwen took that photo and pinned it to the cork board overlooking her desk.

"If only . . . " Gwen started, but nothing else followed. She honestly didn't know what more she could've done. Was she too hard on Courtney? After all, she was just playing the game like everyone else, right?

No, Gwen thought quietly to herself, it wasn't the same.

Gwen would have expected getting back-stabbed by someone like Heather or Alejandro. Hell, even Mike turned out to be a total psychopath towards the end, but not Courtney, not after everything they had been through. She trusted her, opened up to her more than she had opened up to anyone; more than Trent, more than Duncan. She really thought they had something; that they were . . .

"NO! No, not again!" She shouted, jamming her open palm to her forehead, as if to physically beat back the surge of emotion that suddenly flooded her brain.

"Don't do this to yourself, Gwen. Just . . . forget about it." She stared at the photo before turning back towards the boxes littering her floor.

It's over.

Suddenly, from outside, there was a loud crash. Gwen perked up her head and moved to the door to see what was causing the commotion. Outside, she spotted an older woman sprawled out on the floor, covered in spilled coffee and nursing a bruised shin. Gwen recognized her as one of the floor's dons. Behind her, a young man with a blank expression was hauling a hand truck filled with boxes.

"You idiot!" the coffee stained RA exclaimed, "I told you not to follow so close. Look at this mess!" The young man's only response was a low, muttered "Sorry 'bout that."

Gwen had seen enough. She turned back to the privacy of her dorm room, only to be once again greeted by the noisy pair seconds later.

"Are you Gwen . . . umm . . ." the woman asked, staring at the coffee stained pages attached to her clipboard. "Damn it! There's just a smudge where the last name is!"

"That's all right. Yeah, my name is Gwen. What's up?"

"Got some bad news about your roommate." The sour-faced advisor stated, still trying to clean herself up.

"Oh, well she's not here, yet. Do you want me to-"

"Yeah, she's not coming." The RA continued.

"What! Why not?"

"Got herself kicked out. Rumor is she got caught paying someone to take an exam for her . . . you didn't hear that from me." She concluded, realizing her mistake in spreading such gossip.

Gwen had met her would-have-been roommate only once during an orientation ceremony a couple of weeks back. She was a nice girl, but a bit lazy looking; didn't really seem like the college type. In retrospect, that kind of made sense now.

"Anyway," the RA continued, "someone came and filled her spot last-minute. This is all her crap." She pointed to the man with the hand truck, who, much to the RA's dismay, spilled his cargo onto the floor with a thud, causing one of the boxes to split open, revealing its contents.

"What is wrong with you!?" the RA shouted.

". . . sorry." the hand truck man muttered once again.

"Jeez." She sighed, turning back towards Gwen. "Look, I just called her. Your roommate should be here any minute. Her name is . . . " she paused, looking back at her clipboard, the contents of which was completely illegible.

"Whatever. She'll tell you herself when she gets here."

With that, the disheveled pair exited the room, the floor don berating her associate all the way to the elevators. Gwen turned to look at the mess that had been left in their wake.

"Damn, this chick is not gonna be happy when she sees this!" Gwen smirked, trying to put the spilled items back into their damaged container. There was a bunch of law books (Guess I know what her major is, Gwen thought.), an old PDA that couldn't possibly still be in use (Hmmm, where have I seen one of those before?), and a framed certificate for completing a counselor-in-training program at some camp in-

Wait A Minute!

"No!" Gwen said out loud. "It can't be. It just can't! It isn't possible!"

"GWEN!"

Courtney practically screamed as she entered the cramped, symmetrical two person dorm room.

"Courtney?!" The green-haired goth froze, her already pale face practically white with shock. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Your room? This is my . . . Oh God!"

"No!"

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

You're my new roommate?!