"Take that, Geoff!" Gwen smirked as her blue race car bumped and passed by Geoff's red one, crossing the finish line.

"Oh, just you wait," Geoff laughed. "I'm coming in hot on the next round, G."

Gwen cackled. "You were talking so much shit in the beginning. How many times did you say you've played this game again, Geoff?"

"Too many times to let you win and get away with it," he chuckled, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around her. "Betcha I can play with one hand."

"Oh, you're so smooth," Gwen playfully rolled her eyes.

"Smooth as butter." Geoff pecked her cheek.

"You better get ready for round 2," said Gwen. "Good luck using one hand."

"Hey, if I can drive with one in real life, I can drive with one in a video game," Geoff replied, grinning as Gwen pressed 'start.'

After multiple crashes, spinouts, and air jumps, Geoff passed Gwen and crossed the finish line, landing him in first place.

Gwen's jaw dropped while Geoff let out a crazed laugh and an obnoxiously loud cheer.  "No way! How?! You were literally using one hand!!" She said.

"I told you, baby, I'm a race car champ! That first round was just a warmup!" Geoff boasted.

Pouting, Gwen tossed the remote to the other end of Geoff's couch. "There's no way you weren't cheating. I always beat my brother at this game, and he was a really good player."

"Guess your brother's not as good as the race car master," Geoff kicked back on the footstool. Brody and I spent our entire first year of high school playing games like this instead of doing homework. Comes to show how far not studying can get you."

"Not something to brag about, bozo," Gwen snickered, leaning beside him.

"But who just won?" He gave her a smug look.

"The game is bullshit! It's obviously rigged!" Gwen kicked a pillow onto the floor.

"Aw, you're an adorable sore loser," laughed Geoff.

Gwen sat back up, crossing her arms. "Am not." She stuck up her nose.

Geoff responded by hugging her from behind. He pressed his nose against her neck. "Are too," he mumbled.

"Stop it," Gwen giggled. "You know that spot tickles."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you laugh." Geoff pulled her onto his lap.

Gwen turned around so her chin rested on his shoulder. "Your eyes are way too blue," she commented.

"And is that a good thing?" He played with her hair, making her blush.

"Yeah, I think so," flirted Gwen.

Geoff leaned in. Closing her eyes, Gwen followed his lead. He planted a gentle kiss on her lips. She returned the kiss with more vigor and tangled her hands in his blonde hair.

Geoff relaxed his arms, letting them rest on Gwen's tiny waist. "Mmm, it feels nice when you touch my hair like that," he whispered between kisses.

Smiling, Gwen continued combing her fingers through his locks. "Yeah?" she replied. "Well, your hair's really soft."

Geoff pulled her in for more kisses. He could feel Gwen's dark lipstick stains all over his mouth, but that was the last worry on his mind. He kissed Gwen repeatedly on her neck, enjoying the sensation of her warm skin.

Gwen cupped his face, bringing his lips back to hers. She lifted herself onto her knees and straddled him. Geoff tightened his grip on her hips, pulling her closer. "Wanna take this to my room?" He asked breathily.

Resting her forehead against his, Gwen took a moment to think. Something felt off about this, but if he wanted it, then she'd give it to him. There was no use in ruining the evening by making things complicated. "Yeah," she nodded.

Geoff stood up, making Gwen wrap her legs around him. "Geoff, I swear to god, do not drop me," she laughed as he carried her down the hallway, her thoughts racing.

"I won't," he gave her a goofy grin. "You're as light as a feather."

Suddenly, Geoff kneeled over the bed with Gwen in his arms. She held onto him tighter while he carefully lowered her onto the mattress. "God, that was such a big elevation change," Gwen sighed.

"I'm guessing I'm the tallest guy you've ever been with," teased Geoff.

"Oh yeah, definitely."

He crawled on top of her, and Gwen held her breath. All of this was so overwhelming. A part of her almost wanted to turn off the lights and get it over with so she wouldn't have to remember how he looked at her—with nothing but affection. It made her sick and anxious.

With all this in mind, she swiftly got out of her long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, then firmly pressed her mouth to Geoff's, not giving him enough time to look at her.

He reciprocated without question but attempted to slow things down by leisurely running his hands up and down her waist. Eventually, he pulled away from their kiss to unbutton his flannel shirt.

Once again, Gwen dragged Geoff back down. "Whoa," he chuckled. "You're barely giving me room to breathe. Trust me; if I didn't need air, I wouldn't have any complaints." He finished taking off his shirt.

Gwen smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just—super excited! Aren't you?"

Geoff furrowed his eyebrows after he tossed his flannel aside. "Gwen, do you actually wanna do this?"

She paused. "—Yeah, of course. What makes you think I don't?"

"Well, it feels like you're trying to rush it," he frowned. "I think this should be a special moment between us, ya know?"

Gwen blinked a couple of times before giving in. "OK, fine. I'm not...completely ready yet," she looked away. "I'm really sorry, Geoff. It has nothing to do with you." She covered her face with her hands, beyond embarrassed. Here she was in her undergarments, and Geoff was halfway undressed. Gwen scolded herself for not stopping it earlier.

"Gwen," Geoff placed a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing you need to apologize for. It's your choice."

"Fuck," her voice came out muffled through her hands. "I was ready at first, or I thought I was ready, but then I got scared because you were looking at me like...ugh, never mind. It's stupid."

Geoff scooted back against the headboard. "I bet you a million bucks that it's not," he smiled.

Gwen hesitantly uncovered her face, then sat up next to him. "It's about my stupid ex." She hugged her knees.

"Blake?" Asked Geoff softly.

"Mhm," Gwen mumbled. "Well, actually, it's not just him. That look you gave me—they were all like that at first. But then, things would always turn out bad, and all I could remember was the way they were in the beginning. It was just sad."

"Things turned out bad? You mean relationship-wise or sex-wise?" Geoff rubbed her back.

"God, both." Gwen groaned. "Blake was way too rough with me. I think it was just because he could. Because I let him." Her face went red with shame. "I didn't want him to leave, so I let him use me however he wanted. And that's exactly what happened with the guys before him. It's the same damn pattern. I know this is ridiculous, but I thought it would happen with you."

Geoff looked at her, bewildered. "Gwen," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "you thought I was gonna leave you if we didn't sleep together?"

Gwen bit her lip. "Maybe. I know you're probably thinking it's stupid, but—"

Geoff interrupted her by gathering her in his arms. "No, I don't think it's stupid. It totally makes sense for you to feel that way if all the other dudes were assholes."

Gwen's lips drew into a tiny smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Geoff. I just left you hanging, and—"

"And I told you not to say sorry. I'll survive," he chuckled. "Besides, I don't wanna do anything until you're ready. I can't enjoy it until I know you're enjoying it. I want it to feel good for both of us."

"Thanks," Gwen smiled genuinely this time. "I hope you'll take cuddling instead," she joked.

"Anytime," Geoff grinned. He laid down, inviting Gwen to rest her head on his chest. Gwen did so, letting out a small sigh of relief. Today, Geoff had done something that no other man had done before: he respected her cues and body language. She didn't have to sacrifice everything for once.

Gwen blushed at the sight of Geoff's toned abdomen and then noticed the ink. "Wow, I never knew you had this many tattoos," she commented.

"Yeah?" Geoff looked down at his stomach with a laugh. "I got 'em over the years."

"How many do you have?"

Geoff chuckled. "That's a good question. I know I have ten at least. They're mostly small ones, of course."

"You don't know how many you have?" Gwen laughed.

"Nope. Guess I'll have to count 'em soon."

"You're crazy," she teased. "I only have four tattoos right now."

"Do you know how many you're gonna get?" Asked Geoff, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Gwen replied. "I have at least five more lined up. But they're mostly small like yours."

"Oh yeah? What are you planning on?"

Gwen smiled. "I want to get a song lyric from my favorite band behind my shoulder. That's first on my list."

"Favorite band?" Geoff asked.

"The Serpents of Death," she answered sheepishly. "They're pretty hardcore, so you probably won't know them."

"I think I've heard of them," he said. "You'll have to play some for me next time we're in the car."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Really? I never took you as a heavy metal type of guy."

"I usually don't listen to that stuff, but if I like a song, I like a song. I'm pretty easy in that department."

"You're easy in a lot of departments," she giggled. "And trust me, that's a compliment. I'm sorry for being so difficult for you to figure out."

Geoff shook his head. "You're not difficult." He moved her bangs out of the way and kissed her forehead.

"That's pretty hard to believe," Gwen smiled halfheartedly.

"Well, you better believe it soon, G, because I promise I'll be one hundred percent honest with you about everything."

"Thank you," she said, though still unsure if she could trust him when he said that. "I wanna be honest with you all the time, too."

"And you always can," Geoff told her. "Coming from the guy who's seen everything, I won't judge."

Gwen was caught in the middle of her laughter when she noticed a green and purple snake tattoo on Geoff's right hip. "Whoa, when did you get that one?"

"Hm?" Geoff hummed.

"The snake. It looks amazing."

He blinked. "—Oh, yeah. I actually got that one to cover up another one."

By the somber look on Geoff's face, Gwen could tell who the tattoo had to do with. "You don't have to give me any details if you don't want to."

"No, I think I should," Geoff said. "It'll make me feel better."

"Ok, if you're sure," whispered Gwen. "I'm listening."

Geoff swallowed before speaking, "I had Bridgette's name tattooed on my hip. I remember trying to get her to get my name on her's so we'd have matching tats, but she doesn't like tattoos, so there I was, looking like an idiot with her name on me after our breakup." Tears pooled in his eyes. "I guess I was kind of an idiot for thinking it would last forever."

Gwen held herself up with her elbow and then touched his chest. "Hey, you're not an idiot. You guys were together for so long. Everyone thought the same thing you did."

"But at the same time, I think I knew what would happen in the end—" Geoff cut himself off with choked sobs. Gwen opened her mouth to reassure him, but he kept talking. "Our relationship just wasn't the same after she betrayed my trust during Total Drama World Tour, no matter how much we got along after. It was always in the back of my mind. I just wanted to make it work. I-I wanted her to be the woman I thought she was."

"Geoff," Gwen frowned. It physically hurt her to see him this upset. Not knowing what else to do, she held him close, letting him cry into her chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm right here for you. It's ok. I'll always be here for you."

Geoff held onto her tighter. "You make it so much easier to move on, but it sucks because I'll always remember. A-And then she comes back into my life during the stupid interview thing and wants to work things out when I'm still trying to get my life back together," he sniffled.

"I know," said Gwen. "She really shouldn't have done that."

"I was perfectly fine without her to remind me of what we had." He let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I'm a total wreck today. I'm supposed to be spending time with you. I bet the last thing you wanted was for me to break down about my ex."

"No," Gwen shook her head with a slight chuckle. "Sometimes it's good to let things out. I've already broken down in front of you, which was for the most embarrassing reason ever."

"Are you talking about the time with Antonio?" Geoff knitted his eyebrows together. "Cause I don't think that's embarrassing." He wiped his eyes. "He was a jackass."

Gwen chewed on her bottom lip. "I know, but I feel bad for calling you so late that night."

"I'm up all night, all the time," he chuckled. "And even if I had been asleep, I still would've answered. I'll always answer when it's you." He kissed her nose.

She let out one of her rare, blissful sighs. "And I'll do the same."

Geoff nuzzled his head into her shoulder. "I feel so much better now. Thanks for letting me get it out, babe."

"Of course," Gwen replied tenderly, massaging the back of his head.

In a relaxed state, Geoff leaned into her more. He peaked out of his right eye and saw a small 'phases of the moon' tattoo on her outer thigh. "That's a cool one," he murmured.

"What is?" asked Gwen.

"The tattoo on your leg. I meant to say something about it, but I got distracted kissing you," Geoff chuckled softly.

"I got that one about a year ago," she said. "I love the moon because it looks so mysterious."

"I've seen it in a lot of your paintings," Geoff stated.

"Yeah," Gwen laughed. "If you had met me in middle school, you'd think I was a werewolf. I used to doodle the moon all over my notebook paper instead of taking notes. To be honest, I think I was way too obsessed with it."

"Hey, if it means something to you, that's what's important," said Geoff.

Gwen looked down at her tattoo. "I've been thinking about getting it colored. You think dark blue would look cool?"

"Definitely," Geoff nodded. "That color looks so good on you. And now I can finally say it out loud without making it awkward."

"That's great to hear because midnight blue is my favorite color."

Geoff smiled, taking another look at the tattoo. Enticed to look for more on her body, his eyes wandered. His search came to a sudden halt when he spotted dozens of faded scars on her inner thighs—a lump formed in his throat.

Geoff didn't know how to react. Should he ask? Should he just avoid saying anything? He never knew anyone who did that to themselves, and he was no therapist.

Before he knew it, Gwen noticed him staring. "I'll tell you about them if you want," she began hesitantly.

Geoff blinked himself out of his trance. "Oh shoot, sorry. You don't have to tell me anything about that, Gwen. If it's a tough subject, I totally understand."

"It is, but I'm dealing with it better now," Gwen assured. "—I used to self-harm in high school because I didn't understand why my dad left us," she told him quickly, looking away. "It was kind of a way for me to escape." Her eyes shifted up to the ceiling.

Gwen could mention her dad, but that was it. She was afraid that if she went in-depth, she'd never stop crying. Over the years, she had learned to avoid it by working her ass off and ignoring the issue—which, she admitted, wasn't the best coping mechanism. But it could always be a lot worse.

Geoff sat up so he could hold her in his arms. "I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that, Gwen. I wish I could take that pain away." Geoff couldn't imagine growing up without a parent.

Gwen relaxed her shoulders. No guy she'd been intimate with had ever asked her about her scars. It was so different but so relieving at the same time. "Sometimes, I wish he was dead," she admitted. "It's more comforting to think about it that way instead of constantly remembering that he started a new life."

"Well, he's missing out big time," Geoff said, rubbing her back.

Gwen's eyes watered, but she blinked to hold back the tears. She wanted to be tough when it came to this. It had been over nineteen years since her dad left, and it still made her feel worthless. And no matter how hard she tried, nothing could ever fill that hole.

Instead, she focused on the way Geoff's hands felt on her—warm and soothing. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry too much," she laughed, trying to lighten the conversation.

"I'm glad you're doing better, and I want you to tell me if you're not, okay?" He asked gently.

Gwen nodded. "Yeah, I will. Thank you, Geoff." Her cheeks reddened at the thought of him caring enough to talk to her about her past like this.

Geoff could tell she didn't want to talk about it anymore, so he changed the subject. "Do you wanna watch a movie? Maybe a comedy?" He smiled.

"Sure," Gwen replied, smiling back. She would've told Geoff that horror movies cheer her up more than anything, but she appreciated his effort and didn't want to force him to watch slasher films.

She watched as Geoff got up and searched for the Roku for the TV. "Maybe we should put our shirts back on," she giggled. "I don't know if I'll be able to focus on the movie like this."

"Fair enough," he blushed. "I feel the same way."

Gwen and Geoff got fully dressed again and cuddled as the movie began. Gwen couldn't help but think about the drastic difference between the way Blake—and even Duncan—treated her and the way Geoff treated her. It was an entirely new world, and she was far from complaining.

*~*~*~*~*

Courtney stared at a grey polka-dotted skirt in the maternity store. She was only twelve weeks along, but she wanted a head start on second and third-trimester clothing. The problem was, she really, really didn't want to wear any of it. Everything either looked too ugly or too big, although she knew she'd grow into the bigger ones.

Reluctantly, Courtney grabbed the skirt with a white shirt to match and got in line for checkout. As she waited, she noticed a pregnant woman walking into the store with a toddler at her side.

As the strangers passed by, Courtney gave the little girl a friendly smile and wave, to which the girl reciprocated shyly.

What a cute baby, Courtney thought. I wonder if mine will be shy or outgoing. She shook her head to snap out of it, and the line moved up.

While Courtney dug through her purse for her credit card, a few paparazzi standing outside the store caught sight of her.

Just like that, they came rushing in. "Courtney Barlow! What kind of maternity clothes did you get?!" A woman asked a little too enthusiastically.

Courtney froze for a second, completely overwhelmed. "Courtney!" Another woman called, bringing her back to the real world. "Are you scared to give birth? Do you think it's gonna be painful?"

"Hey!" The store manager marched in front of the checkout desk. "Get out of my store! I know this is a popular mall, but we don't do that here, nu-uh!" She snapped.

The paparazzi ignored her and continued bombarding Courtney with questions: "Where's your fiancé Duncan?" "Do you guys ever play music for the baby? Are you planning on an all-natural birth?"

The camera flashes made children cry, and the other women in line looked aggravated. Women in the middle of shopping stopped and stared at the scene before them, forgetting about what they were there for in the first place.

"Ok, that's it," the manager huffed, heading toward Courtney. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but you gotta leave. I got a whole line of people ahead of you, and I can't have them crowding my store."

Courtney's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding?! I was here first!"

"I know, honey, but they won't listen to me." She placed a hand on her shoulder. "I hope you find somewhere safe to go."

"Well—can't I just cut the line so you'll get rid of me faster?"

"No way!" Shouted a couple of women ahead of her. "Just because you're a celebrity doesn't mean you get special treatment!"

Courtney glared as she handed over the clothing items to the manager. "Fine. I'll leave since no matter what I do, you guys will whine!"

"Again, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't ruin the customer's shopping experience."

"Whatever," Courtney scoffed. She stormed out of the store with a tight grip on her purse. The paparazzi followed her like chickens after a trail of food.

"Courtney, can you at least give us a smile?" One of the men asked.

"No!" She started speed-walking toward the mall exit.

"Aw, come on? Just one? We know you have a pretty smile!"

Gritting her teeth, Courtney kept moving forward. She was used to the rude questions, but since she got pregnant, her hormones made her extra stressed, and trying to escape the paparazzi on her own was almost too much.

Once Courtney got outside, she bolted for her car, thanking god she remembered where she parked. She thought she lost them when she left the parking lot, but two black vehicles appeared out of nowhere. One was to her left, and one was on her tail.

"Are you serious?!" Courtney whined. Now she knew she couldn't drive home because they'd know where she lived.

She aimlessly drove around the city, nearly running into buses and taxis. "Sorry!" She cringed whenever she cut in front of someone or nearly ran a red light.

After turning a few more blocks, Courtney looked back, and no paparazzi vehicle was in sight. However, she was still paranoid, so she decided to ride through random neighborhoods right outside the city for a while.

She came across a familiar bungalow house. Though unsure if it was a good idea, she parked in the driveway and hesitantly knocked, looking around just to be sure there were no flashing cameras hidden in the bushes.

The door opened, and the woman standing behind it gave her a wide grin. "Courtney, oh my goodness! It's been forever since I've seen you! What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Ms. Walsh," Courtney greeted briefly. "I was just out shopping, and now I'm looking for a safe place to hide for an hour or two. Paparazzi were after me, but don't worry; I don't see any out here right now."

Natalie's face went soft. "Come in, then!" She stepped back.

Courtney raised an eyebrow but did as she told her. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," she replied, locking the door. "You were like family to us."

"But..." Courtney cringed. "...What about the way things went down a few years ago?"

"The past is past," Natalie smiled. "I'm just so happy to see you again. I was wondering about how you were doing ever since Duncan told me about your pregnancy."

Courtney's eyes went wide. "Wait, Duncan told you about—how much did he tell you?"

Natalie pursed her lips. "Why don't I make you some hot chocolate and a snack? I think we should sit down and talk about this."

Now, Courtney was nervous. Natalie had never been a strict parent—a far cry from Duncan's father—but Courtney was still worried she'd be disappointed. Natalie's disappointment always meant more than her own mother's. 

"So, um—when did you find out I was pregnant?" Courtney asked while Natalie warmed up their hot chocolate in the microwave.

"Well," she laughed, "Duncan told me a couple of hours before I saw it on the news, so I figured that was his motivation."

"Oh," Courtney responded. "And exactly how much has he caught you up on things?" She cringed.

"Up to your fake engagement," Natalie answered calmly. She carefully placed the hot chocolate mugs on the table before heading to the refrigerator. "Do you like banana bread?"

"Yes, thank you," Courtney nodded, a little embarrassed of her hunger considering the circumstances.

Natalie gave Courtney a piece of banana bread on a paper plate and handed her a napkin. She sat across from her, blowing on her hot chocolate.

Courtney felt like she was sinking in her chair. This couldn't get any more awkward. In fact, she hadn't planned on seeing Natalie at all during her pregnancy, but she wasn't upset about it. If she had to choose who to talk to about this, it would be her.

"You must be so done with me right now," Courtney laughed nervously. "I already caused enough drama for you and your family, and now I'm hiding at your house. If you want me to leave, I'll do it."

"Courtney," Natalie chuckled. "It doesn't matter what you did as a teenager. I've made plenty of mistakes at that age."

"Yeah, but I doubt they were that bad."

"It wasn't just you," said Natalie. "Duncan was going through a lot, so he decided to hurt you. I know you both hurt each other, but I could tell you were going through some things, too. It just wasn't the right time."

Courtney frowned. "Ms. Walsh, with all due respect, I don't think our relationship was the right relationship, period. We're too different from each other."

"Courtney, please call me Natalie," she smiled. "And I know you two are as different as night and day, but I remember the chemistry when you worked together."

"We really did, huh?" Courtney smiled at the memory. "I won't deny that Duncan and I got along. We got along so well that sometimes it was scary. But our fights were just—the worst things in the world. It was like we were going to war."

"It was an intense relationship," Natalie told her. "They're so rare but so thrilling, and then they end with an explosion. I've had some of those—including my ex-husband," she muttered.

"Yes, Duncan told me you guys divorced last year," Courtney bit her lip. "I'm sorry it turned out that way."

"Oh, don't be sorry," sighed Natalie. "I had fallen out of love with John years before we made it official. He was always too hard on our boys."

Courtney stared at the steam rising from her mug. "Yeah. I guess it was always obvious, but I just thought it was normal because of my mom."

Natalie took a tiny sip of hot chocolate. "I remember you complaining about her. I take it she didn't like hearing the news about your pregnancy?"

"She basically went on a hate tirade against me, but I think our "engagement" will help," Courtney air-quoted. "I haven't called or visited yet, so we'll see how that goes."

"I think that's very smart of you two," stated Natalie. "I know how much criticism you guys got as teenagers, so I can only imagine it now."

"The media makes no rules about protecting young adults, so you're right," she rolled her eyes.

"So, you couldn't even go shopping without them harassing you?" Natalie asked.

"Nope," Courtney answered. "I was trying to get prepared for my later trimesters, but this manager lady kicked me out because the paparazzi wouldn't leave when she told them to."

"Which store were you at?"

"Comfy Cuddles."

"Oh, I know where that is. Do you want any help with that?"

Courtney's mouth opened slightly. "No, no. You don't have to! I'll find a better time to go. The mall's not as busy on weekday mornings."

"It's no problem for me. If you had your eye on a specific clothing item, I'll run by and grab it."

"No, Ms.—Natalie. It's ok. I'm a big girl," Courtney laughed.

"Alright," she smiled. "But remember, there's nothing wrong with getting a little help now and then."

Courtney sighed heavily. "Why are you being so nice to me? I haven't seen you in years, and even though I was close with you guys, I'm sure you got along better with...the girlfriend after me. She's always had more friends than I did."

"Gwen?" Natalie furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yes!" Courtney crossed her arms. Suddenly, the jealousy and resentment she harbored as a seventeen-year-old returned. She was back in her room, crying her eyes out over a picture Duncan had posted of him and Gwen at a music festival shortly after Total Drama World Tour had ended.

"Courtney," Natalie said gently, taking her out of her thoughts, "I'm nice to you because I know you need someone to be that for you." She took another sip of hot cocoa. "Want me to let you in on a secret?"

Courtney nodded, and Natalie continued. "Gwen was a pleasant girl, but Duncan didn't bring her over here much after I expressed how I felt about how they got together. He was mad and posted pictures of him and Gwen on social media to spite me, but that was how things had to be."

Laughing, Courtney replied, "That's the funniest thing I've heard in a while. And it's so Duncan."

Natalie laughed with her. "How have you been, Courtney? Besides the paparazzi deal and what Duncan told me, of course."

"I'm in law school," Courtney said proudly. "And I'm set to graduate in a little over a year. Next May!"

"That's so exciting!" Natalie beamed. "I knew you'd get into law school."

"I knew, too," Courtney smirked. "I worked so hard to get where I am now. I'm not letting anything stop me or slow me down."

A quick knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and in walked Duncan. "Ma, whose car's outsi—" he stopped in his tracks when he saw Courtney at the table, her jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Courtney stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say. Of course, he had to show up. It was his mother's house, after all, but the universe seemed to love involving him with her lately—involving being an understatement.

"I didn't know you invited her to help clear out the garage," Duncan commented with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, that's right!" said Natalie. "I'm sorry, honey; I completely forgot that we were going to do that this evening! Courtney just needed a place to hide away for a little while. You know how it is with those paparazzi at the mall."

Duncan's expression tightened. "Yeah, I know."

Feeling uncomfortable, Courtney stood up. "I'll leave now. I'm sure the coast is clear."

"What about your banana bread, dear?" Natalie asked sweetly, her eyes beckoning her to stay.

Courtney reluctantly sat back down. "Oh, yeah, you're right. I'll go after I finish this so you and Duncan can work on the garage."

Courtney swore she heard Duncan grumble to himself while he hung up his coat. "Duncan, would you like something to eat or drink?" His mother said.

"Nah, I'm good, but thanks," he replied, focusing extra hard on situating his coat on the door hook.

"Are you sure I shouldn't just leave with the banana bread?" Asked Courtney. "I don't want to get in the way of anything."

"You should probably stay for another hour or so if you haven't been here longer," Duncan told her. "Those paparazzi are determined."

Courtney looked at him, taken aback. "Well, it doesn't affect you, so—"

"I know, but I remember how fucking ruthless they were at the clinic," he interrupted, giving her a crooked smile. "I don't want you to deal with that shit."

Natalie gave Duncan a look for the language but smiled at his kindness.

"Thank you," Courtney breathed, releasing some tension.

"No problem." Duncan sat across from Courtney and next to his mom.

"I need an update," said Natalie. "Duncan already told me, but I'm fifty-two years old, so my memory is slipping," she chuckled. "When's the next appointment again?"

"Two weeks," Courtney answered. "We'll get to find out the gender."

"One week and four days, to be exact," added Duncan, surprising Courtney.

"Wow, I've never seen you this organized with your days, Duncan," Natalie laughed, then looked at Courtney. "He could never keep up with his homework in middle and high school."

"Oh, I'm aware," Courtney stifled laughter. Was Duncan excited for the next appointment? She wondered. No, he probably just wanted to get it over with.

"Well, I hate homework, so you can guess why, ma," Duncan rolled his eyes.

So he didn't hate this? Courtney thought, unaware she was anxiously rolling a piece of banana bread into a tiny ball. Of course, Duncan didn't hate this. He wasn't the one carrying the baby. "You wouldn't be saying the same if you were the pregnant one," she told him.

"Probably not," Duncan shrugged. "But it's kinda cool to see the baby in the ultrasound."

"Ok, yeah. That I can agree with," Courtney admitted. "It's so strange but interesting."

As Courtney finished her banana bread, Natalie listened to her and Duncan talk—and bicker—about their public image, possible pregnancy classes, and appointment costs. It almost felt like all those years ago, except Duncan Courtney communicated more maturely. Natalie could still detect some animosity between them, but it seemed as if it were slowly dissolving the more they jumped over the small hurdles in their arguments.

Before Courtney knew it, she had spent an hour and a half talking to Duncan and Natalie. Her hot chocolate and snack were long gone, and she had let herself rest her elbows on the table. Almost all of it came naturally as if she had never left. Almost. There was still a deep wound from the past that neither of them had stitched up. All those years were spent in vain, as they had desperately tried to cover it with bandages.

As they conversed longer, Courtney's eyelids grew heavy. She attempted to stay alert but was rudely awakened by her forehead meeting the hard, copper tabletop. A light gasp escaped Natalie's lips. "Courtney, are you ok?!" She stood up from her chair.

"Yes," Courtney groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I'm just tired."

"Oh, honey, you're welcome to sleep on the couch," offered Natalie. "It's super comfortable. I can get it set up for you!"

"No, I'm good," Courtney yawned.

Natalie frowned. "I don't want you driving home in this state, sweetheart. I know what it's like. I went through three pregnancies." She rubbed her back. "And law school added to that makes it worse, I imagine."

"Ok, but I'll only nap for, like, thirty minutes," Courtney said.

"You can nap as long as you need to. I'll get you a sheet and a cozy blanket." Natalie hurried upstairs.

Once they were alone, Courtney looked at Duncan. "I'm sorry. It came out of nowhere."

"It's fine, Court," replied Duncan. At first, he was embarrassed that Courtney was over and talking to his mother about god knows what, but he felt sorry for her. He hadn't felt bad for her in so long because of the way she treated him. Now, a baby was part of the picture, and all the media attention definitely wasn't helping Courtney.

He called me Court again, she thought. Why did that make her happy? She gave him a grateful smile before Natalie came back down.

"I got you my favorite fuzzy blanket!" She chirped.

"Thanks," Courtney grinned sheepishly. This was ridiculous. Who was she to barge into this nice woman's house and take a nap like she was at home?

"It's no trouble at all, honey," Natalie assured, laying the blanket on the couch and fluffing the pillows. "Your sleeping chamber is ready," she joked.

Courtney sighed. "I'm not a princess."

"You sure look like one."

Without another word, Courtney got on the couch. Did Duncan still think she looked like a princess? She needed to stop thinking about this. Having feelings was dangerous—especially when it came to him.

"Let's work on the garage, Duncan," Natalie told him.

Courtney wanted to tell them to stay out here so she could fall asleep to the hushed sounds of their voices. She remembered how Duncan's voice calmed her whenever she felt anxious. And Natalie wasn't any different. She was such a mother figure to her.

However, their footsteps disappeared from the kitchen, and Courtney was alone. It didn't stop her from dozing off, but had they been in the same room, sleep would've come a little easier.

*~*~*~*~*

Heather's arms trembled as she leaned over the toilet. The sight of the Oreo packet she had just binged only made her puke more until nothing but bile filled the toilet.

After heaving herself off the ground, she flushed the toilet. It had only been four days since she started this new routine—binging then purging—so she wasn't used to it yet. But it already felt so much more satisfying than simply throwing up after eating a small snack. Heather could give in to her cravings any time she wanted. Plus, she didn't have to eat separately from people anymore.

Drinking a lot of water on her lunch break gave Heather the perfect excuse to run straight to the restrooms once she finished eating. Her colleagues made some concerned comments, but it became a laugh fest about her "small bladder." Heather had to degrade herself with jokes to make them forget about it.

As Heather rinsed with mouthwash, she heard the elevator ding outside her door. Seconds later, a knock followed. She spit out the minty wash. "Who the fuck is here?" She whispered to herself, making her way out of the bathroom.

Alejandro stood at the other side of the door, causing Heather to stumble back. She gathered her bearings and opened up. "Hey, what are you doing here?"  

Looking at Heather, Alejandro almost couldn't recognize her. It wasn't just her scratchy voice or hollow cheekbones—even her mannerisms were different. "Heather, we are going to talk."

Heather's face fell. "I can't right now. I'm too busy." She turned away.

"No, that's not an option." Alejandro stepped forward. "You've held off talking to me for too long."

Scoffing, Heather stepped back to let him in. "Well, what do you wanna talk about? There's nothing to discuss besides school and work."

Alejandro crossed his arms. "You know exactly what I want to talk about," he said. "Either I won't leave until you tell me, or I'll leave for good," his voice shook. It felt like a knife through the heart to say that, but he was almost positive that it would make her give in.

Heather's eyes widened. "Leave for good? What's that supposed to mean? Are you—you want to break up with me?" She choked out.

"No, I don't want to." Alejandro stepped closer to her. "I want you to be honest with me."

"I am honest with you!" Heather argued. "We can sit here all day if you want because I have nothing to tell you!"

"God, Heather, stop!" Alejandro cried. "There's obviously something wrong with you! You look sick every time I see you, you won't talk to me, and you act like you want me out of your life! But now you're upset that I even suggested we break up?!"

Heather stepped away from him. "You didn't suggest it! That was not suggesting! You threatened to leave me over something I want to keep to myself!"

"But it's hurting me, Heather!" Alejandro said. "Courtney even called me about you the other day, and she was worried, too! Please, don't shut me out, ángel..." he reached for her hand, but Heather jerked it away.

"Why are you so insistent on knowing about everything I go through?!" She snapped, her eyes burning with tears.

"Because you're my partner! I don't want you to have to do things alone. I want to help you, and you're not letting me!"

"Because it's not something you need to know, Alejandro!" Heather glared.

Alejandro looked at the ground. None of this felt real. He couldn't believe she still wasn't telling him. Now, his breakup threat had to be serious. "Fine. Since you won't let me help you, I'll go. My parents want me to live with them in Croatia for a while anyway." A single tear streamed down his face. He was holding in so much more, but breaking down in front of her wouldn't help anything. If Heather made up her mind about this, then there was nothing he could do.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Heather whispered hoarsely.

"Yes! I'm going to leave next month. It feels like you hate me, so I'll leave you alone," said Alejandro.

"No!!" Heather stomped her foot. Tears raced down her cheeks. "You're moving to another country, and you didn't tell me til now?!"

"I wasn't going to go until you stopped talking to me!" Alejandro yelled. "And who are you to talk?! You won't tell me what's going on with you!"

Heather started pacing the room, rubbing her eyes, but she couldn't stop crying. Alejandro never yelled at her, and she knew he was angry, but she didn't want to know how angry he'd get if she told him the truth. "I-I can't tell you," she managed through her sobs.

Alejandro took a few deep breaths to calm himself, but it only made it harder to hold back his tears. His bottom lip quivered, and he prepared for what he would say next.

Then Heather passed out with a loud thump on the floor.

Wasting no time, Alejandro got on his knees next to her. "Heather?" He gently shook her. "Heather!" He panicked. He fumbled for his phone in his back pocket and dialed 9-1-1. 

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" The operator asked.

"My girlfriend—she just passed out!" Alejandro sobbed through the phone. 

"Can you feel a pulse?" She asked.

Alejandro lifted Heather's wrist. "—Yeah, yes! I can feel it!" He sniffled.

"Where is your location?"

Alejandro gave her the address and waited impatiently for the paramedics to arrive, never leaving Heather's side.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, amor," he cried, stroking her hair.

The paramedics rushed in and felt for a pulse on Heather once again. "Is it still there?!" Alejandro asked frantically.

"Yes, sir. Her pulse is a little high, but we'll do our best to get her better," a man replied as his team quickly set up the stretcher.

"It's high?! What does that mean?!"

"It could mean a number of things, sir. We'll get it figured out right away."

"Can I ride in the ambulance with her?" Alejandro asked.

"Of course," another medic answered softly.

While they rode to the emergency room, the paramedics took Heather's blood pressure. "Eighty over 42," a woman commented with a deep frown. "Patient is at a dangerously low blood pressure. Start applying fluid."

Alejandro couldn't breathe after what he just heard. "Is she going to be ok?" More tears rushed down his cheeks. "Please tell me she'll be ok!"

"We're doing what we can," the man said. "Just try to relax, alright? We'll be at the hospital in no time, and they'll watch over her and probably give her some medication to improve her heart strength."

Alejandro buried his head in his hands. All he could do was hope and pray that Heather would be ok. The worst part was he had no idea why this happened.