A/N: Chapter four. This is a chapter that I had to do quite a bit of work on, specifically fixing the choppier bits of it. Hopefully, the breakup in this chapter makes a bit more sense, or rather has more actual reasoning behind it, and things flow a bit better. (I still kept the elements of pettiness)

Gucci Mane LaFlare - School bells always suck. My school had this thing called pips. They pissed me off constantly. The Trent situation will come to light. I've actually put a lot of thought behind it as well as how it ties into the actions of Gwen and Trent. Also your other review about the first version being a draft is so true. This is definitely a final copy.

CactusPot - I would suggest reading the original if you wanna compare them. It's definitely in the quality of those low-quality high school Aus. I'm glad you found Gwen's friendship with Duncan being her saving grace funny. I also put a lot of effort into the home life bit so I'm glad it's set up ok. Hopefully you enjoy the rest.

Till next time,

D.L.D


Broken Hearts and Movie Nights


Gwen's P.O.V

The rest of the day went surprisingly well. Despite the whole encounter with Trent, things actually seemed to be working in my favour for once. Classes were ok, lunch was actually shockingly decent and Heather didn't come up to me once - or even glare in my general direction. That has to be a new record: a day without Heather troubles. Usually, she couldn't go longer than an hour without saying (or doing) something that solidified her hatred towards me. Perhaps she's actually matured for once.

What am I saying? This is Heather we're talking about. Of course she hasn't matured.

Something's wrong.

Frowning, I tap my pencil against my cheek as I really think about it. To be honest, I should've realised sooner that Heather had a problem with me. I did shave off her eyebrows - which she rightfully deserved for being such a bitch - so that did mean she had something to get me back for. In fact, her eyebrows have been her touchy point today, even the smallest remark about them setting her into full-on rage mode. Clearly, she wasn't over that.

That means I should keep my guard up - watch her closely. If I don't, I just might end up being her first victim of the school year...

Glancing downwards, I study the piece of paper below me. I'd been so busy thinking about Heather and her schemes that I'd forgotten I was in Art. My passion. And of course I had projected my inner thoughts into my art, my blank piece of paper morphing into a drawing of a girl trapped behind bars. Right in front of her dangled a key, the hand clasped around it owning long, sharpened, perfectly-manicured nails. Well, I know who that symbolizes.

Scowling, I ball up the piece of paper and toss it into the bin. Everyone spots me, but no-one asks any questions. Good. I can't take the damn questions. They dig into my personal problems too much.

For the next hour, I solidly focused on my artwork and banished all thoughts to the darkest depths of my mind. That leads to the rest of the lesson ticking by at a painstakingly slow rate, each second feeling like a whole year to me. By the time the bell rings, I managed to draw a picture of a dog or something and handed it in to my teacher. She gave me a look, but didn't say much. No-one ever says much anymore. They know not to.

Shrugging on my backpack, I huff as I swipe my hair from my eyes. I need to cut my fringe - I just haven't got round to it yet. I kinda like it this way; at the right angle, it covers my tired and depressed face.

Sighing, I tuck in my stool and follow the steady stream of students out the room and down the hall. I only pause when I feel a hand grasp onto my shoulder, the weight of it heavy and familiar. Usually, I would recoil and tense at the invasion of my personal space bubble; right now, I am used to the action and welcome it fully.

"Duncan..." Rolling my eyes, I adjust my backpack's strap and turn to face him. A smile wants to twitch itself onto my face, but instead I settle for a neutral resting bitch face. "What do you want?"

"You know what," Duncan elbows me a little, jokingly, also rolling his eyes. A smile is spread on his lips, but I know that it is really a front. It's all a front to make me feel just a little more comfortable in confiding with him - which I am - but is always used as his silent way of showing concern. I know it so well that I can tell when and where he uses it - even unconsciously. But I doubt Duncan even knows he does it. People have odd quirks like that.

"So?" I raise a brow, creating a little distance between us. Gently, I push his arm away and fold my own across my chest. "That shouldn't bother you. I'm fine." I go to move around him, but of course Duncan predicted my escape and side-steps into the way.

"And I'm a dweeb like Harold," Duncan counters, his smile dropping to a slight grimace. He sniffs and stays directly in the way of my escape route, his taller frame blocking my view of everything ahead. I muster a glare at him, but he simply ignores it and continues to demand an answer. "I'm not moving, so spill it, Gwen."

"No," I bite out, gritting my teeth. Moving to the left, I attempt to escape once more, but again Duncan moves into the way. I end up stopping just before I smacked head-first into his chest. Glaring at him, I poke his arm. "Duncan..."

"Gwen..." He retorted, glancing back down at me. There was an amused twinkle to his eyes, the one he always got when pissing people off, and it only made my frustration shoot up all the more. I was being serious here and he was being semi-serious. Half-serious. Did he not get that I was upset right now? That I needed to be left alone?

"Duncan," I plead once more, pouting a little as I knew confrontation wasn't going to get me anywhere. Not if he was amused by it.

"At least let me drop you home," Duncan relents, sighing. His hand flies to the back of his neck - a sheepish action. Duncan was always uncertain when he tried to be decent. It was kinda endearing - kinda. I watch as he glances over the passing students, studying them with a critical eye. His voice is quiet. "He'll be waiting for you, you know."

"Yeah, but you doing that with the perfectionist as your girlfriend?" I raise a brow, chuckling despite the thought of my certain demise. Oh, Courtney definitely wouldn't like that happening. "That's a positive no." Promptly, I then turn on my heel and swerve aside to begin walking away. "I'll be fine on my own, Duncan. I have been for the past seventeen years."

He only watches as I confidently walk away, concern etching its way onto his features once more. I spot the small furrow to his brow, the drop of that usually smirking mouth of his, and frown a little. I don't like seeing Duncan like that: upset. It didn't look right on him - never looked right on him. Duncan was the sort of person who could show concern without looking so...lost. But maybe he just looked lost because I was difficult to deal with.

Understanding me was never an open-book thing - you had to read between the lines. All of them. Maybe that's why Trent got lost along the way; maybe that's why my deadbeat dad never hung about for long. I wasn't the easiest to deal with, and by far I wasn't the best for company, affection. Yet, Duncan was still my friend. I was still Duncan's friend. After all the shit we put each other through, we are still friends.

Funny. I didn't think we'd last this long.

"Yeah, yeah," Duncan finally says, shaking his head. He wears a slight smile, most likely another front, and calls out to me directly. "Just be careful, ok?"

A pause. I felt it. A pause in the normal pattern of my shitty life and my shitty circumstances. Maybe it was gap in the rainfall, that small patch of sunlight in the middle of a storm; perhaps it was the first drops of rain after a long year of dryness. I'm not sure what way round it is anymore. I don't think I ever was.

What I do know, though, is that Duncan's words put a genuine smile on my face - a real one - and it makes me feel a little lighter than before, a little more ready.

"I'm always careful," I nod in response, turning to flash him my signature smile before rounding the corner. It's only once I'm out of his sight that my smile drops and my steps halt completely. I lean against the wall, my body pressed flat. Booming in my ears, my heart races in my chest and my lungs suddenly feel tight and constricted. Once again, I have the urge to hold myself together, to keep myself from falling apart, but like always I fail to feel whole. Complete.

I let out a shuddering breath; I need a smoke. A long one.

Exhaling slowly, I run a hand through my overgrown fringe. I can't go home yet. Not yet. I'm too shaken and emotional to face my mom and younger brother right now. If I came home like this, they'd bombard me with questions and concern and comfort - those are the last things I need right now. Those are things that will break me right now. Crack me.

So instead of going home, I find myself turning around and heading towards the back of the school building, my new destination already set in mind.

"Looks like I'm paying an old friend a visit," I breathe, unbelieving that I was doing this again. "Just once more."


Courtney's P.O.V

I've spent all day trying to think of a loophole - a loose link - in Heather's plan. So far nothing has offered itself up to me. Everything from flat-out refusing to offering to do anything else but Heather's request had gone through me, each plan and idea dying not too long after its creation.

Usually, I wouldn't be so bothered by something Heather told me to do. Usually, it would be something minor and petty, like spreading gossip or manipulating the younger years into massive fights. Never was it something that could put my relationship with Duncan on the line. Never had it been something that would directly jeopardize my social standing as well as my relationships with my peers and close friends.

I used to think that Heather was a mean girl who could never do something completely evil and cruel; I used to wonder why people would listen to her. Now I know why: she uses their worst fears against them.

Sighing, I close my locker door and decide that I'll just have to do as Heather says. Even though Duncan will be pissed, and will probably cause another pointless break in our relationship over it, I'm willing to risk it if it means staying on Heather's good side. I will risk anything if it means securing the future I have pined for ever since I was little. Nothing and no-one will ever stop me. Nothing will ever hold me back.

Not even Duncan.

That's it! Why didn't I think of this earlier? I can break up with him before I do this, save myself the trouble of getting into a pointless fight that will lead to a split, and carry out what Heather commanded. If I do that, then I'll do Heather's stupid dirty work, while also looking innocent, and remain in the Squad, while also keeping my high status. If anything, this plan will be a complete win all the way round and I can explain it all to Duncan after I complete Heather's stupid task. I'm sure he'll understand.

Taking my phone from my pocket, I already calculate my conversation with Heather and quickly text Duncan.

Courtney: Hey Duncan.

Duncan: Hey Princess. What's up with you?

Ah, he already suspects something. Makes sense. These days I have been a little more snappy than usual. With this year being the final school year and the stress from my parents (as well as my own expectations), I've been so wrapped up in making sure that I do well and succeed. In fact, I've been so wrapped up in it all that I kinda forgot about Duncan and the fact that he was actually...valid. Once again, it's another thing to apologise for.

As I text him back, I scold myself for being so insensitive.

Courtney: Well, I have something to tell you. Meet at the park?

A few minutes - a long time for him - and I get a response.

Duncan: Sure. Whatever.

Whatever? I sigh and shake my head as I read his reply. Sure, I didn't actually show my guilt, but I do feel terrible for what I've done. Duncan didn't deserve to go through the crazy summer that I put him through - although he isn't entirely innocent. We both fueled each other's stupid pettiness over the break, especially when our friends tried to get us alone together to try and sort it all out. We only reconciled shortly before the school year began. But even now we're shaky. Even now we're close to falling apart. It's never been like this before.

Slipping on my jacket, I close my locker and place my phone back into my pocket. Whether I like it or not, I'm going to have to break up with Duncan. It was the only way to make this work - to minimize the overall hurt of the situation. If I didn't do this, then everything could fall to dust. Everything I've worked for could be for nothing.

Taking one last glance at my locker, I pull on my satchel and head towards the closest exit. Time to put my plan into action.


Heather's P.O.V

This is it! Everything is finally coming together! Thanks to my quick-thinking and perfect plotting skills, I'll finally get the revenge I've so rightly deserved on Gwen, while also cornering Courtney and knocking out my competition at the same time. It had taken ages to think of, endless nights of thinking and recalculating to form, but now I have done it. I have gained the upper hand! Ah, life is just so sweet sometimes...

Sighing, I hum as I begin to re-apply my lipstick. The day had been so taxing, the latest influx of Freshman all having to pass under my scrutiny. There were a few promising students, the type who were destined to fill in the slots of the past Prom royalty, and I was overall pleased with my findings. In fact those few who needed whipping into shape, the future Gwens and Duncans and Leshawnas, were all minor compared to the majority of the population. If anything, the Freshmen were all Bridgettes, Geoffs and Trents: easy, mouldable and not at all argumentative.

However, as if sensing my good mood, my phone decides to buzz on the bathroom counter. Setting down my lipstick, I roll my eyes. What now? Doesn't anyone know I have important things to do? Like, they're not so important that I have to stop my daily routine for them. They should already know that at least.

Picking up my phone, I squint at the screen and smile once I've checked who it's from: good, old CIT Courtney. My favourite member of the Squad.

*New message*: 5:00 pm- Courtney

Courtney: I've made up my mind. I'll do as you say.

Now, elated would not describe the feeling I have flowing through my veins right now. Elated would only be a small portion of the emotion, the pure joy, that I feel at the thought of Courtney actually falling into place for once. It has taken me years, nearly the entire course of high school, to calculate and form the perfect trap for Miss CIT. Courtney was someone you couldn't trick in the straightforward way. She always found an angle. So to manipulate her, I had to take my time.

Fast forward to now, our fourth year as peers, and I have finally cracked her. I have finally forced her to bend and break beneath my whims, forcing her to follow my command even at the cost of her boyfriend's anger.

God, I just love being Queen.

Heather: Good.

My response is automatic, meaningful, my emotion mixed with the positive future of my plan. Phase one is almost complete - everything is nearly set into place. I just need one more crucial player, one more crucial pawn.

Smirking, I flick through my contacts until I land on the one saved specially for these circumstances. If he had not proven himself useful in this way, I would've deleted his number by now. In fact, there was a time when he didn't have my number. But recently, I allowed him to have the privilege. He earned my half-trust. Well, for now.

"Hola, mi querida," The rolling r of his Spanish accent catches my ears, alerting me to the not-so-professional tone of his answer. Automatically, my eyes roll in disgust as a scoff catches itself inside my throat. I never liked when he did this.

"Hello to you too, Alejandro," My distaste isn't hidden as I pocket my lipstick and stare at my reflection. I notice the edge of my eyebrow looking smudged, and frown as I wipe at it. "It's time to put Phase one into action. Now that I've got Miss CIT wrapped around my finger, all that's left is for Gwen and Leshawna to get their dues."

"Leshawna?" Confusion spikes his voice, the questioning within it making me smile. I loved it when I had the upper hand over him. It made me feel powerful; dangerous. If Alejandro couldn't predict me, then no-one else could. "I thought you already got your revenge, Heather."

"Oh, Alejandro," I tut lightly, shaking my head. "That was only a taster~"

This year I wasn't going to be as soft as I was before. Not now. This year was the time to get my payback for all the pranks and tricks everyone's pulled on me since the beginning of high school. I don't care who started it, I was finishing it.

And I was going to be the victor.


Gwen's P.O.V

For the entire walk home, I anxiously fiddle and sniff at my jacket, making sure that it doesn't contain any evidence of my after school activity. Specifically, it involved me, Marilyn and Pixie Corpse sharing and single joint between the three of us - right behind the school gym. My mom never liked it when I came home reeking of the joints I shared with them. She always frowned upon taking drugs and damaging the brain and such. It's a good thing she didn't know about the underage drinking yet.

However, after I unlock the front door and walk in, there's a notable silence to my house. A distinct emptiness. It's the sort I'm used to, the kind that has filled my life for way too long now, but I'm not too certain if it really is the 'normal' kind. There's usually some sort of feeling of fullness, noise. Usually, my brother would be here and I would be able to make out his muffled music from upstairs. But even he was gone.

Dropping my jacket and bag in the hall, I head to kitchen and immediately notice the note stuck to the fridge. On it, in looping, swirling cursive, was my explanation for the empty house:

Gwennie, I've got the night shift and Lucas is staying at a friend's tonight. There's some leftovers in the fridge for dinner. Love, Mom.

Of course. Of course they would both have plans for tonight because mom was always working and Lucas hadn't had a chance to stay out in ages. They both had lives outside of our little bubble; they both had external plans. I'd forgotten about that over the summer - over the past few months. That was probably because they both halted their lives for me. Figures.

Groaning, I yank open the freezer and pull out a tub of ice-cream. Since I've got the whole house to myself, I might as well make use of the free time to catch up on some movies. I've been meaning to watch a couple that have sat collecting dust in their digital archive. Plus I'm pretty sure Leshawna said she wanted to watch a few of them too. Surely no-one will mind if I invite a friend or two to kill time with me. None of them are here right now and I can't stand the idea of being alone today. I'm sure they'll understand.

Before I can persuade myself from inviting everyone over, I grab my phone and dial Leshawna's number. Within seconds she answers my call, the low bass of some song she was listening to filling the background.

"Yo Gwen, wassup?" The question was evident in her voice. So was her raised a brow. If I had a guess, she was still concerned about the whole Trent fiasco. Little did Leshawna know that the weed helped to mellow me out a bit. Trent is kinda like a distorted image in my head right now. But even so, it'd be best if I just dance my way around the subject of him right now. When I'm high, I don't have much control over my head.

"You up for a movie night?" The words leave hurriedly, forcefully, and I cringe at the desperation in my voice. Did I always sound this needy? "I've got an empty house tonight."

"For sure, girl!" The excitement is evident as her music stops, Leshawna's entire attention fixed upon me and my response. "You want me to spread the word? How many are we talking?"

"Just you and the usual," I answer casually, already calculating numbers in my head. Yeah, only the usual. I don't need a whole hoard of teens invading my house, especially not after the hectic first day today was. "No-one else."

"Aight, I'll tell them," Leshawna responded, humming. But then, like always, a catch magically found its way into the conversation. Her voice drops to a serious and warning tone. "I do have a condition though."

I groan, rolling my eyes, "What?"

"I get first pick," I could see the smug smile planted on her face. Leshawna always did that when she knew she was gonna get her own way. All of us did that when we knew we were gonna get our own way. I just didn't think Leshawna would use movie night against me. Damn it.

"Fine," I finally manage to grunt the words out, solidly setting my tub of ice-cream down. The spoon clatters against the counter. "Just spread the word and you get first pick. Alright?"

"Alright," Another hum, this time pleased. "Bye Gwennie~"

"Bye Shawnie," I smile tiredly at her goodbye before hanging up and staring at the tub of ice-cream. I guess I won't just be eating that now. If I wanted to prep for this movie night and distract myself from feeling so isolated I needed to get my ass out the house and buy some supplies.

Chucking the ice-cream back into the freezer, I walk out the kitchen and grab my discarded backpack and jacket from the floor. After patting my pockets to make sure my wallet and keys were still secure, I opened the door and drove to the closest store from here - the local run of the mill general store. Hopefully, no-one will notice that my jacket lightly carries the scent of weed.


Duncan's P.O.V

It was early evening now, the sun beginning to lower in the sky as the afternoon slowly faded into twilight. Still being pretty bright and blue, the sky was kinda bright. I mean, the sun was out and no clouds were swarming so that means no storms, right? That's a good thing for me. I plan to be out on the streets for a while - especially today. Home is the last place I wanna be be right now, trust me. Sometimes, being out here late at night was safer than being at home.

Rolling my eyes at the thought, I sniff and bury my hands deeper into my pockets. Usually Courtney would drag me about after school, but today she didn't. Surprising, pleasing even. But that just means she's gonna be mega-pissed at me for something else later on down the line. Court always found something to whine about. Maybe that's what this is about. She wouldn't ask for me to meet her ass for no stupid reason, after all. Courtney was unnecessary like that.

Breaking my thoughts, my phone vibrates against my palm. I hadn't noticed that my hands unintentionally curled around the device, in fact I hadn't noticed they were tense from being clenched, but it was a natural enough reaction for me. Clenching my fists was a thoughtless action - a reflex. Tensing my jaw was another one of those.

Frowning, I pull out my phone and peer at the screen. Small drops of icy rain drip onto my face, but I ignore them. I hadn't expected rain, I don't think anyone did, but now it was here I didn't really care. It would take more than rain to make me change my mind about loitering. Even Courtney couldn't make me change my mind now. I was determined to spend majority of my evening hanging about the streets.

*New message*: 5:15 pm- Pasty.

Pasty: Hey Duncan. Got an empty house tonight and thought movie night. Invited the whole gang, so drag your ass here or be left out.

Immediately, a smile spreads on my lips. Gwen - of course. Only good old Pasty would somehow know that I was down in the dumps and magically conjure something fun to do out of thin air. It was like she had some weird telekinetic link to my brain - a link Ma also seemed to have.

Duncan: Definitely coming. Make sure u have Blood Bath 4: Revenge of the Killer.

I wait for a response, my attention now fixed to my phone as the rain falls. It hits my face and hands, occasionally getting on my phone screen, as I automatically shuffle towards the park. But Gwen doesn't respond, so I tuck my phone back into my pocket and huff as I trudge through the park's front gates. Hopefully, Courtney won't take too long. I now have a place to be - a place way better than with her and her stupid whining and expectations - and I didn't wanna miss it.

"Duncan!"

High-pitched and nasally, her voice reaches me first. One caramel arm is stretched above her head, waving an open hand. The other is tucked across her chest, holding her jacket in place to shield her body from the rain. Wisps of mocha hair whip in the wind, scattering across her face and sometimes coming to rest in a messy tangle.

I chuckle at the image, knowing that she would panic at the thought of being messy. Courtney was always over the top when it came to looking 'presentable'. Nothing could be out of place - that included every strand of hair on her head.

"Princess," I shrug, my chuckle dying as I neared her. As always, my indifference countered her enthusiasm; we could never be on the same page. "I thought I told you not to call me that in public."

Lip twitch. I can see it before anything else, the way her smile twitches and her eyes squint a little. She always did that when she was mad - twitch. It was my personal little tell when it came to pissing Courtney off and was what earned her the nickname 'Princess'. Trust me, it took a whole lotta work to destroy her usually perfected calmness.

"Whatever," Courtney rolls her eyes, pushing the issue aside. Just like she always does. Shifting on the bench, she turns to stare at the scenery ahead. "That's not why I called you here."

Of course it isn't. Nothing was ever straight forward with this woman. She always had an angle, a hidden motive, and majority of the time I would go along with it. In the past, I would've been the dumbass who was stupid enough to egg her on. But now, two years in the future, I was a little wiser, a little older. I was tired of being told what to do, running around like a loyal lapdog. I missed the lone wolf days of early high school, the dumb shit I used to get away with. All I ever got to do now was 'loiter'.

Is that even rebellious anymore?

"Then why did you call me here?" My voice comes out sharp, aggravated, betraying a frustration I had not noted until recently. Clenching, my fists ball at my sides as I roll my eyes and stare ahead as well. I find myself watching the gathering cluster of dark clouds - seems a storm will be coming. "I've got things to do, you know."

"If you're going to be like this, then I'll just tell you tomorrow," Courtney scoffs, angling her body away from me. Critical and snappy, she gives me that look again - the one that makes me think of the Geezer. Disapproving eye rolls, impatient actions - it's like she's trying to impersonate him at this point. Quite frankly, that pisses me off.

"You know what, Courtney," My voice rises, uncontrolled. It's time to end this. I'm tired of it. "I can't take anymore of this shit. We're done!"

Shock. That's what fills her face: shock. Pure and utter shock.

"You - You can't!" Courtney cries, already standing up to stop me. Tears fill her widened eyes, her mouth fixing into a widened outcry as she tries to convince me to stay, to talk. Reaching out to me, her arm attempts to clutch onto mine. Coldly, I shrug it away and already begin to distance myself from her.

I don't need her warmth, her concern. It's not the same anymore; it's mechanic and too hot, like a blistering fire. I used to want it, I used to like the idea of being so close to danger, but now I know how dangerous it can be. Now I know that I don't need any fire in my life.

If anything I need more ice.

"I can and I will," Solidly, the words leave my mouth. They match the heavy steps I take as I angrily stuff my hands into my pockets and begin to trudge away in the pouring rain.

Each drop wets my face, falls into my eyes and ruins my hair, but I don't care. I like the slight sting of hair products in my eyes, the weird taste of the acidic rain and the sharp feeling of the wind hitting against my skin. Like always, pain gives another feeling to the experience. Pain is what swallows up my anger and makes me walk away, keeping the dangerous wrath within me locked away. Pain worked with the Geezer, pain worked with life and pain worked with this.

Plus, I'm truly over this. I'm done. I can't take anymore of pretending to fix something that's been long gone. Courtney sees me as someone different from what I am, I see Courtney as something different from what she is. We're too different - too angled to see each other's points of view. Maybe we could've overcome it, maybe something could've helped us. There could've been a way for us to find some sort of slight comprehension between us. But right now she has done the irredeemable.

Right now, she has become the very Geezer I despise.

And she knew that. She knew how much I hated that - seeing her becoming that.

I hated comparing her to him.

"Duncan!" Courtney screeches after me, her voice rising above the pelting rain. "Duncan!"

Ignoring the urge to turn around, I flip her off from over my shoulder and continue to walk away. I want to look around. I want to turn around. But I know it will just make things worse. It will just make me consider going back once more and I can't do that now. Not now.

Reaching the front gates, I brave a final glance at her; the last look I remember seeing on Courtney's face was her salty tears melding with the icy rain.


Courtney's P.O.V

Yes! My plan succeeded, thanks to my perfect planning skills (as well as some acting skills). Of course, I hadn't intended to make it as dramatic as it was, or make myself act so much like Duncan's dad, but for some reason I did. I thought it would be the best way to let go of Duncan easily - to break away from him without a messy fracture. But it turns out that it feels a million times worse. It makes me feel like a piece of trash.

I mean, who does that to someone?

'A winner,' I remind myself as I pull out my phone. I find my tears drying up as I stare at the screen, my mind continuing to comfort me. 'A winner risks all she must to win.'

I'm not wrong. When am I ever wrong? But something just doesn't feel right about this. I feel like by doing this, but hurting Duncan like this, I'm going to mess up something that could've been amazing if I hadn't so recklessly abandoned it. It's like I'm leaving behind a beautiful treasure because it is 'ugly', only to find out that the 'ugly' treasure was really worth much more than I had thought it was. That treasure was the one thing I shouldn't let go.

Maybe I should chase after Duncan...

"Did you do as I asked?" Too late. Heather's sharp and cold voice rings in my ears, bringing me back to earth along with reality. There's no turning back now, I've decided to take this path and this path is the one I'm going to take. There's no second chances, no rethinking - all I have now is my own wits and the cards that life gives me to play. All I need to do is use it all wisely. If I do that, I'll be able to make the best out of this.

"I'm working on it," I manage to answer, my voice sounding thick and congested. I cough to cover it up. Heather doesn't know I that I planned to break up with Duncan and she doesn't need to. If she knows about that plan, then she could use it against me. She could turn Duncan further against me. "I just wanted to know if you had planned anything for tonight," I lie casually, the words tumbling smoothly from my mouth.

"No..." A small hum is my initial response. Within it I can sense the skepticism - the brow raise. Heather was no doubt trying to interrogate me. "Why?"

"To go over strategy for the plan," I simply answer, absentmindedly twirling my hair around my little finger. I watch as more rainfalls, splashing and splitting on the drying amber-green leaves of the park's trees. "So my house tonight?"

A pause. Heather always paused when she was thinking, deliberating, as if everyone wanted to hang on her every single word. I mean, a lot of people do; I'm not one of them. I don't gawk and gasp in awe at Heather and her 'fabulous-ness', not do I hang onto her every word. I don't care enough. I only hang around her to know how to gain her power, her position, so I can seize it and change the school for the better.

"Yeah, sure," She finally answers, oblivious to my real intentions. I can tell from the pleasant tone to her voice, the natural smile. To her, my invitation is a pleasant surprise. Why? Because I was the most decent company out of all the Squad members.

But little does Heather know that I'm going to overthrow her as the most popular and top girl. If anyone deserved it, it was me - the girl who broke her own heart.