I Don't Have to Believe You 5

Alexex: *dances like a pure moron* YEAH SIR! :P

Islanda: Ah, thank you. I like to keep great pace to my stories, and I don't want to brag, but I've been complimented on this many times :D Hehe, let's keep the suspense, shall we?

Bloody Basketball: Tehee, sorry :S I'll try to make it understandable next time, though I am myself not. Yeaah, thank you, this was my target, but I don't want to make it too sweet. A lime... hmm, I'll think of it. But I don't want this story to turn into M, cuz, well, I'm not so comfortable with lemons. But I may! :D

TheSocialLoner: You're welcome. Well, I'm trying step by step to make her look less like one... Hope it will work, someday... XD

TrueJackVP408: Yes I am :D Tehee (:

honey-boo-skii: Omg, so much questions here! O_O But keep reading to have the answers of them :D Yeah, sorry but I couldn't. I got
writer's block, plus an unfortunate event in my family. So... yeah, I couldn't. :/

bella-sk8er: Yeah she does! :I Hehe, I thought it would be the worst part of the chapter. I guess I don't have enough self-esteem :S Sorry if I'm back two months later D:

krazyvamp18: Maaaayyyybeee ;)

I don't own any Green Day songs. So don't tell me to claim them. :S

Warning for this chapter: little subjective themes, but no nudity or anything like this. And also, *sighs* another DxG makeout. Sorry :)

21st century breakdown,
I once was lost but never was found,
I think I am losing what's left of my mind,
To the 20th century deadline.

~Green Day, "21rst Century Breakdown".

-Minding-

Courtney's POV:

I stared at myself in the mirror, obsessed by what I was seeing. A feminine silhouette, petite, young and energetic, ready to offer herself to the most amazing man ever. I couldn't count how many people told me I was perfect, beautiful or mesmerizing. Either I remember how many boys whistled at me on the street like I was the random slut they could get anytime they wanted. Or how many guys tried to get in my pants. In fact, I never realized how many people wanted me.

Because I found myself disgusting. Unappealing, unattractive. Ugly.

I scanned my body from head to toes and sighed. I wished I was a little slimmer… Or maybe prettier? I guess make up can't arrange everything as many think it does.

I looked down to my thighs. They had a pretty tan, what made them smooth under the touch of a man. But… something in me found them… fat. Awfully fat.

I felt like a cow. I was working out five times a week but I found myself fat.

I brought my both hands up and ran my fingers through my brown hair. It was so soft, and thick, just the way a girl likes them. I could scent the cherry odor of my shampoo, which Trent often complimented because he loved its smell. And I must admit; I kept it for him, because I normally loved vanilla more. I then put my hand a little more down and cupped firmly my breasts.

It was a firm C-cup. It was pretty big for a woman, but not exaggerated. It was just satisfying.

For my height, if my boobs kept growing bigger when I was pubescent, I would have gotten serious back problems. Thank god, they stopped at 36C, which spared me an important breast operation. I knew it was clearly impossible they grew more than this, but knowing me; I couldn't help but panic.

Staring at them questionably, I started to wonder about some things that had happened to me and how indirectly my chest could have been linked to those events. Like, were those twins the reason why Trent loved me, or he truly cared about because of other than that? And what about Duncan? Did he like me because of those assets?

I unconsciously knew the reasons both had liked me wasn't my breasts, but my head didn't want to listen. I had to admit I was paranoid, and I had small trust issues. Thanks to my first boyfriend, that ditched me for my best friend in freshman year. Since that day, I couldn't help but have problems trusting men, since I had always been scared they'd disappoint me. It happened, twice, the second time being Duncan. But, now with Trent, I truly hoped it wouldn't happen again. And I had the feeling it couldn't.

"Courtney?"

I was snapped back form my daydream when Trent entered the room, his reflection appearing in the mirror I was looking into. Once he saw me, his facial expression went from wonder to confusion. I was about to ask what was wrong, when I suddenly realized my both hands were still rested on my boobs.

We stayed there, gazing at each other uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. He chuckled nervously and tried to go on to another subject, "So, you're ready?"

"Hmm, yes. Yes. I was just fixing my hair and stuff."

"I can see this." He muttered, which I ignored.

Getting straight to the point and trying at the same time to forget about how embarrassing this situation was, I walked to the door, bypassing him nervously and telling him it was time to go. Though I wasn't comfortable with leaving Gwen alone in my house while we were gone, I trusted Duncan. Because he was a friend, and friend can count on each other for some things.

Yeah, he was a friend. Just a friend.

But, was it wrong I felt butterflies running in my tummy just by saying the word?

Wanting to escape from the hundreds of different questions popping in my head, I stormed out the room, followed by my fiancé. At least, that meeting we would get with a priest for the wedding would get me out of it for a while…

Or, would it?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Gwen's POV

Trent and Courtney had gone ten minutes ago, and I was alone with the maid while Duncan had gone out somewhere for apparently five minutes. Sitting on the living room couch, I tried not to pay attention to the employee by reading a good novel. The woman, somewhere in her early fifties, was sweeping the kitchen floor while sometimes taking glances at me, what she thought I didn't notice.

I don't know why, even though I barely knew her; this lady didn't like me. Rosa was her name, I think. Anyways, every time I was walking out of any room of the house, Rosa would go behind me check if anything changed in the space. I think I even overheard her once, when she got a day-off, telephoning someone before leaving to her house, and she was speaking Spanish with the person. With the few words I could understand, I heard that she was saying I was some kind of "crazy witch that would put a malediction on this blessed house".

I know what you think; she was crazy.

And I approve.

I was alerted that the door had just been opened when the alarm system made a little noise, letting the front door being opened swiftly by a black haired delinquent. I sighed, feeling reassured Duncan was finally arrived. If I stayed there alone two more hours, I felt like Rosa's withering glares would kill me softly.

Throwing me some kind of thin plastic box, Duncan sat next to me on the couch, flashing one of his unforgettable smirks. "It's been a while we haven't watched any flick."

"The horror kind you mean?" I pointed out, smiling.

"Yeah, the one we both like," He winked at me, collapsing onto the couch. "I thought we could also have a marathon of action/horror movies, like we always used to when you were in college."

I swiveled around to see Rosa getting ready to finish her working day by going upstairs and cleaning the principal washroom, figuring out accepting Duncan's proposition could be a great idea after all. Since she would leave in an hour or so, we would have the place for ourselves until the lovebirds came back at 7 pm. That left us, if I calculated appropriately, three to four hours alone.

Sweet.

"So… What's your answer, Gwen?" The punk asked me with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, why not?" I agreed, watching Duncan soon walk towards the DVD player and slip the movie Blood Bath 2: Summer Camp Reign into it. It was a classic, and that was why we started by this one.

Sitting comfortably on the couch, even if it wasn't a romantic comedy, we started cuddling lovingly while the blue screen turned into a variety of different colors. And it felt like home for me.

And when I said home, I meant like our apartment…

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Trent's P.O.V.

"So, if I didn't misunderstand anything, you want the wedding to be on May 31rst, am I right?" The chubby old preacher asked us, steadying his little round golden glasses on his nose, and not taking his eyes off the small booklet where he marked the dates of the weddings he had to preside.

Courtney and I confirmed, nodding our heads at the same time. The room we were in was the office of the priest we had hired for our wedding. It was slightly narrow, which made both of us feeling a little uncomfortable since it was the two of us plus a man that had God in his pocket and anything we do could get us disapproving glares from him. Not that we had no education or were able to do it right on the desk, but more that we were just trying to be careful not to do anything wrong to his eyes. After all, we had to have respect for the man that would technically make our marriage credible.

"Then, perfect. My bible and I will be ready." He smiled, trying to joke, to what we nonchalantly laughed quietly. Closing his booklet, he kept talking really casually with us, like he was an old good friend of ours. "I hope it won't rain though, since the event will be done outside."

"Yeah, I know but we don't worry much about this detail," Courtney said, biting nervously her lower lip. "I personally worry more about the paparazzi. You know, knowing them, they'll try to pass the security more than once."

The preacher raised his eyebrow. "Ha, I wish you luck for this. I've presided many celebrity weddings, and some of them succeeded to take pictures anyway. But I think the best way to keep the paparazzi out of your way for your big day is to hire a photographer that would sell the pictures to the press."

"Yeah, why not?" The prep said, not letting me place a word into the conversation. "I mean, even if our wedding won't be as private as we wanted to, maybe this is the best way for us to have the minimum of privacy." She sighed, but managed to keep her smile on. "Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome." The old man rested his forearms on his desk, taking a serious posture. Then, on a soft parental voice, he took a deep breath, getting ready to close the reunion with a question. "So, when is the labor planned for?"

"What labor?" My fiancée and I asked at the same time, wondering what the heck he was talking about.

"Well, you know, the start of your life as parents. Something must be growing into Miss Harrington's belly." He winked creepily at the prep, who gave him a really narrow glare, probably saying 'I'm gonna beat the crap out of him if he says one more word'.

"I'm not pregnant!" Courtney shouted, her face reddened by the anger the preacher filled her up with. I could see on her face she was utterly disgusted by the preacher's slightly obnoxious notice.

Seeing his mistakes, the old man apologized. "Oh, all my sincere apologies. Usually, most people of your age coming to me for their wedding have the future wife being pregnant, and by the marriage, they want the kid to be legitimate. It is really rare for me to see couples marrying for love, and not for the money of the honor."

"I guess we make exception to the rule." I said, grabbing lovingly Courtney's hand, just to calm her down a bit.

We quietly got up, shaking the priest's hand, and both left the room, hand in hand. I could hear Courtney ranting about how she was sure the old man thought she was pregnant because she was fat. I tried to convince her she was the most beautiful person ever, alas it didn't work. Knowing the CIT, I knew it was a lost case.

But if she only knew how beautiful she really was, she wouldn't say all those things because of an ignorant strong Christian. He made a mistake, because in most of the cases, as he said, couples were coming to him because the girl was knocked up. Courtney was not fat; she was flawlessly amazing.

And if someday she got pregnant and found herself obese to death, I would never stop saying this.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Gwen's POV

His hands were wrapped around my waist, and mine around his neck. I was under, since it was my favorite position, and my dark lips were crushed against his delicious pink ones. I could hear in the background some screaming noises of crazy teenagers being murdered heartlessly by a serial killer. Of course, I could also hear myself moaning sensually at the heated make-out session my boyfriend and I were having. It felt good, really good.

The benefits of being alone at someone else's place are that you can experiment how it feels to kiss the person you like on the person's couch. Or even go further. By example, on Bridgette's 18th birthday, Duncan and I went down her mother's basement and did it on the tumble dryer. Twice. It felt… amazing. Of course, seeing Bridge's 15-year-old cousin Damien surprise us and getting him traumatized for the rest of his life wasn't a really nice memory, but still, having sex on an appliance was an experience I would truly do again. I won't go into details, but I bet you can imagine the rest.

Our making out was interrupted when we both heard the door being unlocked. At this time, we only had the time to pull apart, but not stop the movie, when Trent and Courtney came in. The prep walked toward us, taking her coat off, and almost threw up when she saw blood spread everywhere on dead corpses in the movie we were watching. It wasn't an easy thing to hide actually, since the film was played on the 90" plasma TV.

"What is this?" She practically screamed, a mouth agape by the amount of blood she was seeing.

"Sandiville; an upcoming classic of horror based on a true story." Duncan responded, flashing a smirk as he used to.

"This is horrible. Take this out the DVD player." She demanded, what we had no choice to obey to, though it made me feel like a real three-year-old. She then made her way to the residence phone, "Have you eaten supper yet, guys?"

We shook our head, what meant no.

"Then, I'm ordering a pizza. I don't feel like cooking tonight."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Duncan's POV

After the pizza, we decided that we would continue to watch movies, just at the condition it isn't horror or something like this. Thankfully, I had picked an action/romance movie at the movie rental, which was called 'Chasing You'. Though the movie had a kind of gay title, it was provided with action, which satisfied Trent, Gwen and I. You may wonder what Courtney thought of it, well, she wasn't saying anything, but I could guess she kept criticizing the movie on its fakeness. It didn't bother me, as long as she kept her big mouth shut.

Basically, the story was simple but kind of cliché. It was about a man called Abe, middle 2o's, that was a secret agent for the CIA or something like that and is on a mission to stop the activity of a secret society that has for target to kill the maximum of women possible. By so, he has to infiltrate the society and start getting secret information about the activities, leaving his old life for a while, which includes his friends and his goody girlfriend. The mission lasts years and years, and Abe starts feeling comfortable in the society, and even grows closer to a dark emo-ish girl called Ciara, whom confessed to him she was sick of trying to kill people and wanted a normal life. Unfortunately, Abe does the mistake of cheating on his girlfriend, Jessie, with Ciara and gets in an argument with her, ending up breaking up and leaving with Ciara. Abe, a couple years later realizing his mistakes, goes back to Jessie's place and finds out she has moved out.

And this is where we were at.

The TV screen flashes Abe on an airplane, flying over clouds next to a good friend of his that has clues of where Jessie could be. Once the plane lands, they both jump into a car and drives away to some country-side house in the east of California. His friend waiting in the car, Abe walks to the front door and knocks three times. And what he sees surprised the four of us.

Jessie is still alive, but is also ready to give life to another person. When she opened the door, all Abe could see was her pregnant belly being covered by a green summer dress.

And this is when we saw the ending credits.

Trent's POV

Duncan got up furiously of the couch, furrowing his eyebrows at the screen. "The guy travels to find out the girl he loves has been knocked up? What the hell is that ending?"

"This is called 'Karma'." Gwen responded, keeping her voice low. Probably because she could recognize herself into Ciara's role.

"I honestly can't agree more with Gwen. Abe deserved it; he just had to keep it in his pants." Courtney approved, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That was low from that dude." I said.

"Damn it! I mean, the guy is a secret spy, which means he carries guns, and he can't get one or even two freaking chicks at the same time?"

'Is he fucking kidding me?' I thought, disagreeing with Duncan's douchebag comments. "So, you think it's right for a guy to cheat on his girlfriend and get her back at the end anyway?" I asked him, feeling the urge of punching him in the face right now.

"Yes, if he tries to get her back after." The punk argued childishly.

"Well, he deserved it. If he hadn't cheated in first place, he wouldn't be in this mess!"

I felt like Duncan took this personal, since this was exactly what could have happened with he and Courtney. He continued, more reckless than before. "Even if he slept with another girl, maybe he had a reason! So, that little slut needed to hear him out before opening her legs to another guy."

"He didn't have any reason, damn it! He himself said he 'let himself gotten by temptation'… So it was totally his fault! And don't say the girl became a slut just because she found a man that would respect her."

"Actually, I think the girl was sick and tired of hearing the guy's excuses for being unfaithful." Courtney cut us, getting into the argument. "And if someone is the slut, it's definitely Ciara. Why the heck did she have to steal someone else's man?"

"Courtney's got a point here." Gwen pointed out.

"This is stupid shit!" Duncan kept on ranting, stepping closer to my face. "Everyone knows it's Jessie's fault. She should've heard what he had to say!"

"And I think it's Abe's."

"What about my fist getting to your face?" Duncan threatened me, ready beat the crap out of me.

Gwen stepped between us, separating us and keeping us from fighting at the same time. She looked up at us, pissed and disappointed of our behavior. "Guys, what are you doing? Remember this is just a freaking movie!"

Courtney took my hand, leading me to the stairs. "Hey babe, let's go to bed, ok? It's getting late."

I listened to her, going upstairs, and trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Why the heck did we act like we did?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Trent's POV

Sitting in our bed, Courtney was writing down something in her weird personal notebook, when I came in out from the washroom, my eyebrows still furrowed by the tonight's argument. I was truly upset, as she guessed.

"What an asshole. I really feel like throwing him through the wall right now." I cursed under my breath.

"I'm really sorry for what happened, hun. I didn't know it would make you that pissed."

"No, it's okay. I overreacted anyways. It isn't your fault." I reassured her, pecking her cheek. "Anyways, what are you doodling?"

"I am not doodling, I'm planning our future." She told me with assurance, what made me slightly freak out. "By the way, how many children do you want?"

"Don't you think it's a little early to talk about kids, Courtney?"

"No, it's not like I'm gonna get pregnant right on our honeymoon, but I just prefer planning things out years before they happen." The mocha skinned woman told me. "So, how many?"

"Er…"I hesitated.

"If you prefer I can say it at the same time as you, so it would be more comfortable and would also see if our interests are the same."

"If you insist."

We counted five seconds before speaking up at the same time.

Courtney said three; I said nine, which got me a weird stare from my lovely bride-to-be.

In an attempt to forget what I just said, she continued, "Anyways, I want my first daughter to be called "Claire" and my first son "Alexis"."

I chuckled, "You know Alexis is a girl name, right?"

"Oh, you poor uncultivated man; here, Alexis is a girl name. But in French, it's a really nice name for a boy. I would totally name my boy Alexis; it is so en vogue."

"Sorry, no abla French." I joked, what made her smile lightly.

"You're so funny, Trenton. But actually, French is a magnificent language; I could teach you someday."

"Hmm… Thank you, but I know the only two sentences I truly need to know with you." I whispered in her ear, sensually.

"And what are they, Monsieur Adams?"

I took my best French accent, "Je t'aime, veux-tu m'embrasser ?"

Courtney wrapped her tanned arms around my neck and kissed my lips seductively. "Oui, je le veux."

And I felt like this was what I always wanted. Courtney and I, and a future family.

And I didn't mind what happened that night anymore.

Because I felt like only her mattered now.

Mon amour.

I just love moments like this.

Reviewing now, even if it has been months? :O