When Nobody’s Watching.

by MrXh33

Summary:

Courtney never thought the Loser Resort could get worse—until she realized Cody Anderson was still around.
Sunburned, clumsy, bleeding through half–assed bandages, and somehow still trying to flirt, Cody is basically a walking disaster… that she can’t seem to stop yelling at.
Between volleyball accidents, poorly wrapped bandages, and late–night arguments, she discovers that maybe the Codester isn’t just another loser.
A slow-burn fic exploring what happens when nobody’s watching.

Chapter 1: Of Crates, Smacks, and Antiseptic

The Loser Resort was, to anyone with half a brain, a tropical dream. Bright sun, sea breeze smelling of salt, plush lounge chairs, and drinks with little umbrellas. A dream vacation, almost a prize in itself. Who could possibly be in a bad mood in such paradise?

Well, Courtney.

The breeze cooled her skin and the sun bronzed it with that enviable warmth, but none of it could extinguish the rage burning in her chest. Since she'd arrived the night before, every step in the sand, every voice in the dining hall, every carefree laugh reminded her of the same thing: she was here because she had lost.

Courtney, the perfect CIT, eliminated like it was nothing.

And it made her blood boil.

In fact, she had convinced herself that relaxing was a waste of time. It didn't matter how soft the lounge chair was or how sweet the cocktail at her side tasted: in her mind, she wasn't on vacation; she was serving a sentence.

Sure, anyone would say she should enjoy the sun and the sea. But "anyone" didn't understand that the real heat, the one that wouldn't leave her alone, didn't come from the Caribbean... but from her wounded pride. She didn't deserve to be here, surrounded by incompetents who were eliminated by their own lack of skill. No, she was different. She was sent here because of a plot orchestrated by that stupid, weird red-haired freak.

She, the most valuable player on her entire damn team, the only one who seemed to actually be trying to win, was now trapped in this stupid place, in the same category as someone like Ezekiel. A loser.

And as her anger continued to simmer, a flying object entered her field of vision.

"Watch out for the ball!"

A volleyball sailed dangerously close to her head before bouncing off the sand. Courtney sat bolt upright, ready to locate the culprit and give him an exemplary scolding. Not two seconds later, there he was: Cody, with that nervous smile that showed off the slight gap between his teeth.

"Whoops. Sorry, Courtney, still need to work on my aim. You okay?"

She glared at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. Anyone with a survival instinct would have fled. Cody, however, just stood there, looking at her like a puppy who doesn't understand why its owner is upset.

"Be more careful, Anderson," her tone sounded like a military order. "Next time it won't be a warning, understood?"

Cody stood at attention as if facing a general and raised his hand in a solemn gesture.
"Yes, ma'am. I promise, I swear, scout's honor. Well... ex-scout's honor. They kicked me out because I mixed up bug spray with hairspray. Long story."

Courtney just shot him a death glare.
"I said I'm fine. Now go away."

"Oh... okay. It's just..." Cody tilted his head, genuinely intrigued. "You just seem upset."

Courtney almost snorted. Upset. Right, and water is a little bit wet.
"None of your business," she replied sharply.

For a moment, Cody seemed to shrink like a scolded child, but he quickly relaxed again, picking up the ball from the sand. Just as he was about to leave, she noticed something: on the bandage on his arm was a small stain of blood, faint but visible.

Her CIT instincts spoke faster than her mouth:
"What is that on your arm?"

Cody turned with the ball under his arm, blinking as if he didn't understand what she meant. Then he followed her gaze to the bandage and shrugged.
"This? Nah, it's nothing. I got scratched when I was trying to... uh... climb a palm tree. Didn't work out. Spoiler: coconuts are harder than they look."

Courtney brought her hand to her forehead, incredulous.
"Seriously? Climb a palm tree? Why would you do something that dumb?"

"Yeah, but I was hungry. And I thought, 'what would Tarzan do?' Obviously, Tarzan didn't fall into a thorny bush... but hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere, right?"

Courtney narrowed her eyes, caught between anger and disbelief. Cody gave a crooked smile, as if trying to redeem himself with a little joke.
"But hey, at least the palm tree won. I did an incredible job motivating the local flora."

She couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh.
"You're an idiot."

Cody was already walking away when he turned once more, pointing at the ball.
"Well, if you change your mind and need a bodyguard against killer volleyballs, you know where to find me."

Courtney watched him leave with that strange mix of annoyance and something else... she just felt that nerd wasn't telling her the truth.

---

Had she mentioned how much she hated being here?
Maybe a couple million times, yes.

But she could say with absolute certainty that the torture became a hundred times worse in the dining hall. From her spot at the counter, Courtney had a panoramic view of the entire disaster:

Eva and Tyler were in a corner lifting weights as if they were still in the middle of the competition. Katie and Sadie were sighing in stereo while practically worshipping Justin, who didn't even seem to notice the devotion. Izzy was bothering Beth in the pool because, of course, Izzy never needed a real reason to do anything. And finally, Noah, Zeke, and Cody were in the middle of some stupid game with cardboard boxes: basically a contest to see who could hold them the longest. (Spoiler: Noah wasn't participating, he just watched with a look like he was writing a sarcastic essay in his head).

Courtney sighed. Did she really have to share a roof with these people?

She didn't know exactly why, but her gaze lingered on Cody longer than usual. He was smiling with that awkwardness of his, as if trying to convince himself he wasn't in pain. He was holding several boxes with an almost proud expression, but Courtney noticed what no one else seemed to see: every muscle in his jaw was tense, as if he were swallowing the pain by force.

And then she saw it again, that damn poorly done bandage she had noticed earlier that afternoon. Now it looked worse: loose at the edges, uneven, and with the same dark stain... though no, it wasn't the same. It was bigger. And the worst part: it was still fresh.

Impossible.
She had spoken to him around noon. It was almost six now. That blood should have been dry hours ago, but there it was, new, almost shiny.

Doesn't anyone else see it? Or do they just not care?

She didn't want to, she absolutely didn't want, the other losers to see her approaching the group of weirdos. Her reputation was already wounded enough without giving them that spectacle. But something in her instinct screamed that this nerd was hiding something... and she wasn't going to allow it. So she got up from the counter with determined steps, as if marching to a trial. Ezekiel was the first to notice her: he hopped back nervously, almost dropping his boxes. Noah barely raised an eyebrow, looking up from his book, not bothering to hide how curious he found it to see her there.

Cody, of course, was the only one who didn't notice the change in atmosphere.
"What's up, Zeke? Feeling the weight of the burden already?" he joked through gritted teeth, though still in a playful tone.

Courtney narrowed her eyes.
"What the hell are you supposed to be doing, Anderson?" she growled, crossing her arms and planting herself behind the tanned boy as if inspecting a cadet who'd messed up.

A small squeak escaped the boy's mouth. He jumped and dropped all the boxes with a crash that attracted a few curious glances from the dining hall. Noah, of course, did nothing more than raise an eyebrow from behind his book.

"Oh, hi Courtney,"

Cody said with those puppy-dog blue eyes and that "good boy" smile that irritated her so much. The curious thing was that the tension in his jaw had vanished in an instant, as if the pain had never existed. And she was already getting an idea of what was really going on.

"We're betting with the guys to see who can carry the most weight. Wanna give it a try? It's really fun!"

Courtney looked at him incredulously, almost letting a grimace escape at the absurdity of the comment, but she managed to restrain herself. Instead, she brought her hand to her forehead.
"You're injured, bleeding... and playing weightlifting games?"

Cody tilted his head, confused, as if she had asked something in another language.
"Are you stupid?" she added sharply.

"Well... Noah wondered who was stronger, Zeke or me, and we bet 20 bucks and..." the boy stopped for a second, as if just processing the defeat. "I just lost 20 bucks... darn it."

Noah snorted.
"Seems even Zeke is stronger than you. Wanna try against an ant now?"

Zeke smiled proudly, puffing out his chest as if he'd just won an Olympic medal.
"And, uh, it's not so bad, eh. I always knew I had farmer strength."

"That doesn't even count!" Cody turned to Noah indignantly, crossing his arms. "Courtney distracted me, I was winning."

Noah lowered his book just enough to reveal his sardonic smile.
"Aha, sure. Don't blame your little girlfriend and pay up."

"She is NOT my girlfriend!" Cody retorted, red up to his ears.

"See? He even denies it like he does," Noah added, turning his gaze back to his page, satisfied.

Zeke let out a nervous little laugh, as if he didn't know whether to support Cody or go along with Noah.
"Yeah, uh... so like, if Courtney is your girlfriend, then... does that make me like the bet's godfather or something?"

The three of them launched into an absurd argument over non-existent rules and unpaid bets, getting worked up as if it were a real official championship. Cody protested, Noah counterattacked with sarcasm, and Zeke got lost in his own farm comparisons. Courtney, meanwhile, could only watch them with a furrowed brow, wondering at what exact moment in her life she had taken a wrong turn to end up surrounded by such cavemen. Every word that came out of their mouths was further proof that she was trapped in a tropical insane asylum with no way out.

"Listen up, numbskulls," she raised her voice, crossing her arms like a fed-up mother in a kindergarten. "I don't care about you or your stupid bet. I came to check that bandage, and I'm going to do it."

Cody and Zeke exchanged a look as if they were two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Noah, on the other hand, lowered his book with exaggerated slowness and shot her a poisonous little smile.

"How important can a bandage be for Miss Empathy to come check it personally?" he tilted his head, savoring every word. "Or... were you just too lonely and sought out company from these brain-dead morons?"

Courtney took a deep breath, counting to ten in her head. She didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone, but dealing with "The Three Stooges" was testing every fiber of her self-control. Cody, perhaps noticing how her patience was crumbling, shot Noah and Zeke a nervous look and then gently took her by the shoulders, guiding her to a more secluded corner.

"Listen, Courtney... I really appreciate you worrying about me, and I thank you for it," he told her, smiling with that stupid lip twist that seemed taken straight from a "how to irritate Courtney in five seconds" manual. "But it's just a little bit of blood. I'll change the bandage tonight and it'll be perfect by tomorrow."

His words landed like gasoline on a fire.
"Listen to me, you big oaf," she almost shouted, pointing a finger trembling with contained rage. "First: I am not worried. Second: a bandage should look like anything but that."

He looked down at the bandage, as if suddenly seeing the problem for the first time. He observed it for a few seconds, tilted his head, and looked back at her with a confused expression.
"Did I really do it that badly?" he asked with total innocence. "I've been doing it like this since I got here."

Courtney almost tore her hair out.
"The bandage has to be tighter! And you should disinfect it every time you change it! For God's sake, you could barely hold a couple of cardboard boxes!"

Cody opened his arms in a defensive gesture, with that "I don't see the problem" air that drove her crazy.
"That... that has nothing to do with it."

Courtney took a deep breath, determined not to lose her temper. But every word that came out of Cody's mouth was like another nail in the coffin of her patience.
"Have you even looked in a mirror? You're sweating, sweating buckets. Why are you still wearing that stupid sweater in this infernal heat?" her tone was bordering on a shout.
Everyone in the dining hall was in swimwear; even Noah, who seemed allergic to the sun, was managing with a light t-shirt. But no, there was Cody, clinging to that garment like it was a lifeline.

Cody stared at her for a second, as if processing each word in slow motion. Then he looked down at his clothes and raised an eyebrow, biting the corner of his lip.
"Are you sure that's the problem?" he leaned back against the wall, adopting that ridiculously relaxed posture that made him seem more confident than he really was. "Or maybe... you just want to see me without a shirt?"

Courtney froze on the spot.

He smiled, broadly and shamelessly, as if he had just uttered the wittiest line of the decade.
"I don't blame you," he continued, tilting his head and winking at her like a second-hand Casanova. "All the girls want to see a little bit of Codest—"

SMACK!

The slap echoed through the entire dining hall like a gunshot. Cody staggered half a step back, a red handprint stamped on his cheek. The silence was immediate, broken only by the metallic clang of a weight falling from Tyler's hands.

Everyone turned at the same time.

Katie and Sadie let out a dramatic scream and clutched each other's hands tightly, as if the physical violence was too much for their fragile eyes. Justin looked at his own reflection in the window, ignoring everything but himself, though he arched an eyebrow in silent disapproval. Eva snorted a laugh from her corner and muttered a dry "Pathetic." Izzy applauded enthusiastically.

"That sounded better than a whip!" she shouted with a hysterical laugh.

Courtney, for her part, kept her hand in the air, his other hand was clenched tightly into a fist and brow furrowed as if she were still debating between giving him another one or holding back. Then she slowly lowered her arm, turned without a word, and walked towards the door with firm steps, not looking back.

Inside, her stomach was churning. Not just with rage, but also with confusion. What the hell was wrong with her? Since when could someone as ridiculous as Cody get under her skin to the point of making her lose control like that? No, she didn't want to think about it. She just wanted air.

The door slammed shut behind her. In the awkward silence that remained, Noah cleared his throat, leaned towards Cody, and said with absolute calm:
"You've got her eating out of the palm of your hand, champ."

Cody was still rubbing his cheek, looking at the door with a mixture of physical pain and genuine confusion.
"...Was it something I said?"

---

 

Courtney left her room in silence, arms crossed over her chest and her brow still furrowed. The rage was still boiling hours later, refusing to let her sleep. Between the island's sticky heat and the heat in her chest she still felt from being there, sleep was slipping through her fingers like sand. She decided a glass of water might help her calm down. It wasn't like anyone else was awake at this hour; the resort was plunged into silence, save for the constant sound of the sea crashing against the shore.

When she took the glass and was heading back to the hallway, she heard hurried footsteps behind her. She turned her head slightly and saw Cody walking quickly towards his room, carrying a first aid kit she was almost sure she'd seen in the bathroom. She saw him stagger a little as he opened the door, and by pure reflex, she hid behind a corner. She had no obligation to watch that idiot, but... something was weird.

The door was left ajar as Cody hurried into his room. Courtney bit her lip, knowing the right thing was to keep walking, but her feet wouldn't move.
Oh god... what am I doing spying on this idiot? she thought, peeking slightly through the crack.

Inside, Cody dropped the sweater with a rough gesture, as if he could no longer stand the heat. The white t-shirt he wore underneath was stained red, large, fresh stains spreading across the side of his torso, even across the width of his back. Before she could process it, he pulled it off himself, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

Courtney froze. From her hiding spot, in the dim light of the room, she could clearly see the bandages clumsily wrapped around his chest and abdomen, some loose, others with gauze stained with blood. Cody dropped onto the bed with a tired sigh and began to remove a bandage from his arm, but he whimpered softly when the fabric stuck to his skin.

That was enough for Courtney to forget any notion of discretion. She pushed the door open decisively, making him jump in fright.
"Are you fucking stupid, Anderson?!" she spat, fury blazing in her eyes.

Cody, still with the bandage half-off, stared at her with wide eyes. He tried to cover himself with his arm in a pathetic gesture.
"Courtney? What... what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone wavering between surprise and discomfort.

She pointed a trembling finger of indignation at the soaked bandages.
"That! This is what I'm doing here! What the hell is wrong with you? Were you planning to bleed out until morning?"

He blinked, and despite the situation, let out a nervous little laugh.
"Well... I guess this is the first time a girl's come into my room and seen me half-naked. Should I feel flattered or terrified?"

Courtney shot him a death glare, her cheeks flushed, unsure if from anger or embarrassment.
"You're an idiot, Anderson!"

Courtney didn't laugh. She took another step inside, her arms tense at her sides.

"Take those bandages off. All of them. I want to see how bad this really is."

"Huh?" Cody froze, looking at his own bandages as if he'd just remembered they were there. "Now? It's not exactly my most attractive look, you know."

"Anderson, shut up and do it." Her tone was so authoritative that Cody had no room for argument. Clumsily, he began to unwrap the first layer.

Courtney pressed her lips together at what was hidden beneath: long scratches, semicircular bite marks, and dark bruises that spread across his torso. The reddened skin spoke of recent, poorly treated wounds.
"This isn't a game..." she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Cody swallowed, trying to regain his usual humor. "I didn't want... to worry you. You were already so upset since you got here, and the last thing you needed was another one of my stupid problems."

Courtney looked at him, surprised, her anger subsiding for just an instant. She forced an annoyed huff to hide it.
"Well, you managed it. You worried me." She grabbed the gauze and disinfectant from the table, shaking the bottle in front of him. "Hold still."

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Cody asked in a thin voice, just before letting out a sharp yelp when she applied the alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

"God, you're such a baby... Could you stop squealing so much?" Courtney grumbled, though she couldn't stop a tiny smile from escaping at his yelps.

He squirmed, squeezing his eyes shut as she worked firmly, replacing poorly placed bandages and securing others with precision.
"Yes, ma'am... I mean, yes, CIT officer!" Cody blurted out, exaggerating a military salute with a pained grimace, as if the clumsiness was part of the joke.

Courtney rolled her eyes, ready to scold him again, but the absurd way he held the salute with a trembling arm, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming, disarmed her for a moment. A brief laugh, almost a snort, escaped without permission.

Cody looked up, surprised, a genuine spark of happiness in his eyes.
"Wow... the legendary Courtney actually knows how to laugh at my bad jokes," he whispered, still half-incredulous. She snorted to regain her composure, firmly tightening the bandage again.

"Don't get any ideas, Anderson. I'm only laughing because you're pathetic."

"Pathetically charming, right?" he ventured, and Courtney shot him a death glare... though this time with less edge than before.

Cody's yelps gradually faded, replaced by his ragged breathing. Courtney, without realizing it, kept checking each bandage as if searching for invisible imperfections. When she finished the last knot, Cody straightened up and moved his arms cautiously.

"Wow..." he said with sincere amazement. "I can really tell the difference."

Courtney felt a faint pride that she tried to hide behind a huff. She efficiently gathered the cotton and disinfectant, placing them back in the first aid kit. That moment of distraction was enough for Cody to get up and plant himself in front of the mirror.

"Oh, yeah... look at me," he murmured, flexing his thin arms as if he were a bodybuilder. "The incredible Codester, recovered and stronger than ever."

"Anderson!" Courtney almost shouted, turning around just in time to see him puff out his chest ridiculously. "What do you think you're doing?"

She pushed him firmly back onto the bed.
"Do you want to reopen your wounds or were you just born stupid?"

"What did I do now?" Cody replied, with an innocent expression. "You already bandaged me up, I'm fine."

Courtney closed her eyes, containing her rage, and then sighed in exasperation.
"Listen carefully: from now on, you can't exert yourself. None whatsoever."

"But..."

"No buts," she decreed, crossing her arms. "If you want those wounds to heal, you are going to relax."

Cody looked at her for a few seconds, and a mischievous smile spread across his face again.
"Well... I might need help with that 'relaxing' part." He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Do you know anyone willing?"

Courtney shot him a look of mixed indignation and blushing, and this time she didn't know if she wanted to give him another lecture... or laugh in his face. On Cody's face, however, a tired but genuine smile escaped before he could stop it.

"Hey... thanks, Courtney. Really." He said it quietly, plainly, as if that sincerity had slipped out unfiltered.

Courtney arched an eyebrow, uncomfortable. She wasn't used to being disarmed like that. It wasn't a bad joke or a stupid comment; it was simple gratitude. And for some reason, that weighed more than anything else.

"Whatever" she replied dryly, returning the sentiment with a huff and turning away. She grabbed the first aid kit abruptly, as if she needed an object in her hands to distract herself, and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her, although that didn't stop her from hearing a  "Good night" from the other side of the door.

As soon as she was alone in the hallway, she let out a sigh she'd been holding back the whole time. "Don't let him fool you, Courtney," she repeated to herself as she walked to her room. "He's still the same idiot who almost bled out because he doesn't know how to bandage himself."

But as she lay down, on her back in bed, the silence of the night filled with echoes of the scene: his yelps, his crooked smile, and above all, that sincere voice saying thanks. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the memory out of her mind.

It didn't work.

She turned over in the sheets, muttering something under her breath as if trying to convince herself that she didn't care. And yet, when sleep finally began to overtake her, one last thought crossed her mind, fleeting and treacherous:

"Good night to you too... Cody."

 

 

Notes:

For my second publication on this platform, this is... weird, I'm not gonna lie.

I just saw something that reminded me of when I watched TDI when I was like 7, and it made me dive a bit deeper into the general fandom. Somehow, I ended up stumbling upon this pair through a comic... which I'm not very proud to say I saw, but oh well. This will probably be the first fic I actually finish, mainly because it will be short, but I promise I won't forget about my other project.

Basically, this will be a series of chapters exploring the relationship between these two during their time at the Loser Resort, until they have to part ways.

I hope you enjoyed this Chapter 1 as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you next time.

Chao

Chapter 2: Where the Waves Keep Our Secrets

Mornings at the resort were anything but peaceful. The dining hall sounded like a barnyard from the moment the sun came up: voices, laughter, clattering silverware, and people who—somehow—still had reasons to be cheerful.

Courtney stabbed her spoon into her oatmeal, glaring across the room at how easily everyone fell into their little cliques, like pieces of some cheap puzzle. Katie and Sadie were whispering with Eva—yes, Eva—as if they’d been best friends forever, while the musclehead only grunted between bites of egg whites. Tyler and Justin sat together: Tyler shoveling down scrambled eggs and bacon, Justin sipping on a green smoothie and admiring his own reflection in the window like that was the most nutritious part of his morning.

A little further down, Beth struggled to keep up with a “conversation” between Noah and Ezekiel. Noah nibbled on a piece of burnt toast, looking bored, while Zeke talked with his mouth full of fruit and cereal, convinced he had something important to say. And Izzy, of course, was eating pickles with cereal like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Courtney dragged her eyes back to her tray: oatmeal with fruit lined up neatly, and a glass of juice. Simple. Balanced. Correct. And, apparently, about as appealing as the bubonic plague, she thought bitterly, noticing once again that no one even tried to sit at her table.

Good. Better that way. Peace.

At least until peace was brutally murdered by a certain brown-haired nuisance.

“Morning, Courtney!”

The shout hit her ears like a fire alarm just before Cody dropped onto the seat across from her, his tray straight out of a cartoon: pancakes drowning in syrup, muffins, sausages, and a glass of juice about to spill over. He grinned like he’d brought down breakfast from Olympus itself.

Courtney shut her eyes for a second. Perfect. Exactly what she needed—a clumsy puppy at the crack of dawn.

“What do you want, Anderson?” she asked, sharpening her tone to a knife’s edge.

“Anderson?” he echoed, tilting his head. “Why not just call me Cody? Sounds way better, don’t you think? You can even add flair—like this: Cooodyyy.”

Courtney’s glare could’ve leveled a city.
“Anderson.”

He didn’t give up.
“Come on, give it a shot. What about a nickname? I could call you, hmm… Court-court.”

Courtney blinked slowly, like she was deciding whether public execution was allowed on resort grounds.
“Try that again and I’ll throw this juice in your face.”

Cody chuckled under his breath, as if her threats were just background noise, and dug into his mountain of sugar. That idiot grin lit up his face again, and Courtney felt a sharp pinch in her chest. She hated it. Hated that his smile had any effect at all.

He looked noticeably less tense than the night before. If he was usually all smiles, now it seemed even bigger, like the pile of cholesterol and diabetes on his tray was the eighth wonder of the world. Courtney watched him chew and felt the absurd urge to gain weight just from looking at him.

“So…” Cody said after swallowing with zero elegance, “I just wanted to say thanks. I know I said it last night, but… well, if you ever need anything—anything at all—just tell me.”

Courtney raised a brow. Yeah, right. With those noodle arms?
“I doubt I’ll ever need your help. And if I did…” she lifted her spoon like she was laying down a verdict, “I’d seriously question how useful you could be.”

For a split second, she thought she saw his smile falter. Just for a moment—then he puffed out his chest again, grinning like nothing had happened. His eyes sparkled as he picked up a muffin overflowing with cream, looking at it like it was treasure. Courtney was almost startled by the thought that it did look fluffy, the cream dripping like pure sugar in disguise… not that she’d ever say that out loud. Only a child would be mesmerized by something so sweet. Well, a child and Cody. Honestly, the difference wasn’t that big.

“Maybe I’m not that useful,” Cody admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t try. After all, you didn’t have to help me last night… but you did.”

Courtney gripped her spoon so tightly she nearly bent the metal. No. She wasn’t about to let a single dumb comment throw her off balance.
“I didn’t help you out of kindness,” she said, chin lifted. “I was trained for this. Ignoring someone who bandaged themselves like a caveman would’ve been an insult to my CIT title.”

When she looked back at him, Cody already had muffin cream smeared across his cheek.
“You helped me anyway,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’m grateful.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, so she quickly hit him with a glare. Perfect. Now apparently the dorkiest smile on the planet could slip through her armor.
“So you came just to thank me? Fine, you did. Now leave.”

Cody nearly choked on his pancakes at her words. For a second Courtney swore he was going to die right there, drowned in his own syrup flood. He pounded his chest like a drum, grabbed his juice, and downed it in one go before coughing like he was exorcising the sugar demon.
“Well… cough… you just looked kinda lonely, and… I thought you might want company.”

Me? Lonely? Please. She’d pick being alone a million times over sitting with that pack of losers. No one here was worthy of sharing a table with her. She stirred her oatmeal without interest as he opened his mouth again.

“How can you even eat that?” Cody mumbled, then immediately stiffened when she skewered him with a sharp look. “I-I mean, not judging you, but… isn’t it kinda bland?”

Courtney pressed the spoon so hard into her bowl she was sure she’d dented the porcelain.
“It’s a balanced breakfast, with exactly what’s necessary,” she snapped, crossing her arms tighter. Her eyes drifted to his tray and she grimaced. “Unlike your so-called ‘breakfast,’ which could give me diabetes in one bite.”

For the first time, Cody squinted at her, almost offended.
“Hey, it’s not that much sugar… it’s just sweeter than average. And what’s wrong with enjoying yourself a little?” He stabbed his pancakes with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to provoke her. “You should try it sometime.”

Courtney let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Right, because stuffing myself with sugar is exactly what I need to ‘improve my life.’”

He leaned forward slightly, still wearing that indestructible smile.
“I’m not just talking about food, y’know. I mean… not everything has to be rules and balance. Sometimes it’s okay to just let go.”

Courtney stared at him like he’d just said the dumbest thing of the century.
“And what do you know about that?”

For a second, Cody looked like he might actually answer seriously. But instead, he shrugged and went back to his muffin, biting into it with exaggerated happiness. That face—ridiculous, childish, genuine—was enough to make her crush the spoon tighter in her hand.

“Listen,” she said coldly. “I don’t care why you came over, but I’m asking you to leave me alone.”

He hesitated, like he really was considering staying. In the end, he picked up his tray, sighed, and stood. Before leaving, he placed a muffin beside her oatmeal bowl.
“Well… if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Courtney watched him walk away, arms crossed and brows furrowed. She glanced at the muffin and snorted in annoyance. As if I’d eat that. She shoved the tray aside and stabbed her oatmeal again, punishing the poor fruit inside.

From across the room, she heard him laughing loudly with Noah, Ezekiel, and Beth, like they’d been friends forever. Of course. The Muffin Boy always found a place to belong. The whole table lit up with his presence, and for a moment, Courtney felt… even more alone.

---

Her room was, in the simplest words, depressing.

She’d been there since noon. Four straight hours sitting diligently at her desk, barely lifting her eyes from that massive law manual, highlighting paragraphs until they all blurred together into one endless smear. Her hand ached from holding the highlighter, and her head felt heavy.

But what other choice did she have? That was what was expected of her. Her mother had never rested, not even when she was sick, and her father always repeated that “discipline builds character.” Courtney couldn’t afford to be anything less. Not here. Not anywhere.

She slumped back against her chair with a tired huff. The worst part was the silence of the room, so empty she could hear her own breathing. No one had wanted to share with her—supposedly giving her “the perfect peace to concentrate.” And yet, all she felt was a huge, irritating emptiness.

That was when her eyes landed on it.
The muffin.

It was still there, sitting on the little plate she’d brought back almost absentmindedly, like clutter she’d forgotten to throw away. Ridiculous, absurd, sickly sweet… and yet, after all these hours, its presence felt almost insulting.

She scowled and leaned back over the book, pretending to focus. But every line she tried to read dissolved into nothing, replaced by the image of that cream-covered pastry, untouched, waiting.

“No one’s watching…” she muttered under her breath, as if she needed to give herself permission.

She took a quick, decisive bite, ready to spit it out if necessary. Immediately, she grimaced.
“Ugh, too sweet. Typical Anderson…” she grumbled, pushing the muffin aside with a sharp gesture.

And yet, as she went back to her book, the taste lingered in her mouth. Too sweet, yes… but strangely comforting. Before she knew it, she’d dragged it back in front of her and taken another bite, slower this time, like someone resigning herself to a pointless battle.

By the time the plate was empty, Courtney was staring down at the crumbs with a furrowed brow. She’d devoured every last piece, like she was taking revenge for all the times in her life she’d said “no.”

She slammed the book shut and rested her forehead against her hand. Hours of reading, and nothing had stuck. Not a single highlighted concept, not one clear idea. Just Anderson’s stupid grin sneaking between paragraphs of civil law—and the memory of that muffin that, annoyingly enough, had been delicious.

“Ridiculous…” she muttered, more to herself than to the stale air of her room.

The silence pressed in. There she was, alone, surrounded by notes that seemed to mock her. The air felt heavy, like the walls were closing in each time she tried to convince herself everything was “going according to plan.” With a tense sigh, she stood.

She needed fresh air.
She needed a distraction.
She needed… anything but staying there, thinking about Cody Anderson and a stupid muffin. The air in her room was so thick it felt like it was crushing her lungs. Every underlined page was a reminder of how alone she was, and one more second there would have made her scream.

So she shoved her things away, cast one last look at the messy desk, and stepped out into the hallway—determined not to let anyone see just how heavy that loneliness really was.

---

The resort’s hallway was nearly empty, lit only by buzzing lamps that made an irritating hum. The echo of her own footsteps felt too loud, as if the building itself wanted to rub in the fact that she was the only idiot actually putting in effort while everyone else wasted time doing… whatever. The thought should’ve been comforting, but all it left in her chest was an annoying hollow ache.

She sighed, tugging at her blouse as she passed a mirror on the wall—only to startle at her reflection: tense shoulders, deep frown, highlighter still clutched in her hand like a weapon. She shoved it into her pocket and kept walking, determined not to think about muffins or dorky smiles.

Turning the corner, she heard voices. Laughter. The light slap of cards hitting a table. She froze, stomach twisting against her will. Of course they had to be there, all of them, wasting time together.

She stepped into the common room, and there it was: Noah, Zeke, Beth, and Cody in a lazy little circle, like retirees at a sunny park. Noah shuffled the deck with that bored expression he loved to wear like a mask. Beth bit her lip like every card choice was life or death. And Cody… Cody was laughing so hard the walls seemed to laugh with him—even though the joke clearly wasn’t funny.

Courtney leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. The scene twisted something in her gut, a knot pulling tighter and tighter. How could they be so… content? So happy with so little?

“Well, what a surprise,” she said, loud enough to slice through the laughter. “While some of us are working toward a future, others would rather waste theirs on nonsense.”

The cards stopped mid-shuffle. Noah looked up with that infuriating calm, one eyebrow arched like he’d been waiting for this moment all night.

“Oh, perfect. The ethics and productivity committee showed up early today,” Noah replied dryly. “So, what’s the verdict—done saving the world with your notes, or just here to judge the rest of us?”

Courtney clenched her jaw. Of course, sarcasm incarnate couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Original as always, Noah.
“Not all of us have the luxury of being lazy,” she shot back, stepping closer to the table. “Some of us actually have goals.”

He set the cards aside with a calm that burned her worse than any insult.
“Goals, right. You mean that stupid CIT badge you keep flashing around like it’s a Nobel Prize? Too bad no one else seems to find it as impressive as you do.”

A sharp sting hit her stomach, but she refused to show it.
“It’s better than spending your days buried in cheap sarcasm,” she countered. “At least I’m working toward something. You? You can barely lift an eyebrow.”

Noah smirked, like he’d been waiting for that.
“Yeah, but funny thing—even without lifting a finger, people tolerate me more than they tolerate you. Ever wonder why that is?”

His words hit like ice water. Her spine stiffened as she raised her chin in defiance.
“Because they’re too stupid to notice you don’t contribute anything. At least I try to make things better.”

Beth cleared her throat softly. She didn’t even lift her eyes from her cards; she looked ready to sink under the table.
“Guys… maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Shh, Beth, this is getting good,” Zeke muttered with his mouth hanging open, like he was watching a pay-per-view fight. Idiot.

Noah tilted his head, studying her with that tired gaze that seemed to cut right through skin and bone.
“That’s the problem, Courtney. You try too hard. The whole perfect act, the rules, the control. Who are you trying to convince? Because if you were really as good as you say, someone would’ve noticed by now.”

For a moment, no words came. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Don’t believe him. He doesn’t get it. Nobody gets how much it costs to stay firm. I’m not “too much.” I’m just enough. I’m perfect.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Cody shifted in his seat, resting his hands on the table like he was about to step in.

“Hey, Noah, maybe—”

“No. Leave it,” she cut him off, eyes still locked on her rival. “This is between him and me.”

Noah didn’t even blink.
“Look at you now. Eating alone, studying alone… and you still pretend it’s by choice? You’re not feared or respected. You’re ignored. And the worst part? You keep pretending you don’t see it.”

The air thickened. Beth swallowed hard, lowering her head even further, her fingers crushing the cards like they might snap in two. Zeke glanced around with his mouth hanging open, like he couldn’t keep up.

“Ignored?” I tried to laugh, but it came out hollow, an ugly sound stuck in my throat. “Ridiculous. Everyone knows who I am. Everyone knows what I’m worth.”

Noah laced his fingers together on the table, patient as an executioner who already knew the ending.
“Keep telling yourself that. But nobody here is going to follow your orders. Nobody did back on the island, remember? Nobody protested when you left. Even Duncan, your big ‘ally,’ smiled at the dock like you’d just done him a favor.”

A sharp stab hit my chest, knocking the air out of me. My fists clenched tight, fury boiling, daring him to finish that sentence. He’s lying. He’s exaggerating. Duncan wouldn’t—he couldn’t have—

Cody slammed his cards down, shooting Noah a pleading look. I could almost hear the word in the silence: Stop. But of course, Mr. Sarcasm wasn’t about to stop.

“Notice something? Every time you open your mouth, everyone tenses up. Nobody wants you around, Courtney. And honestly… we’d probably all be better off if you just weren’t here.”

The floor dropped out from under me. Heat rushed to my cheeks, burning, but I forced a smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction. My lips trembled anyway as I spoke.
“What a touching speech,” I said, voice as steady as I could fake. “Maybe you should write a book on how to be a professional bitter old man.”

I turned before he could answer, back straight, steps sharp. It doesn’t get to me. It doesn’t get to me.

The echo of my footsteps was louder than the laughter I left behind, but it couldn’t drown out what really rang in my head: Duncan’s smile at the dock. Noah’s voice telling me nobody wanted me around.

I gritted my teeth. If I walked fast enough, maybe I could leave those words back in that room full of parasites. But no matter how hard I tried, every syllable stayed lodged under my skin like a thorn I couldn’t pull out.

---

She was a total mess. And she knew it even before she saw her reflection in the water.

Pathetic. Running away from an argument only to end up hiding here, at the same dock where they’d all first arrived. God, what’s wrong with me?

This wasn’t her. No, she was the kind of girl who fought for what she wanted. Determined. Unshakable. She wasn’t one of those girls who ran from her problems to cry in some dark corner. Courtney Satella was different. She was strong. She was perfect.

And yet here she was, staring at her tears vanishing into the tide. What would her parents think if they saw her like this? She wanted to keep sinking into her thoughts, but the sound of footsteps on the wooden planks snapped her out of it—feeding her anger even more.

Of course. Anderson again. As if she didn’t already have enough problems, here came the idiot to bother her. Wasn’t this what people meant when they said don’t feed stray dogs?

He sat down beside her, hesitant, his face twisted in worry. As if he actually cared.
“What do you want?” I spat, venom dripping from my voice.

He flinched a little, but didn’t leave.
“I just wanted to check on you. Noah… he can be harsh. Even with me. And I’m his friend.”

That stupid smile showed up again as he gestured nervously. God, how she hated that optimism of his.
“Don’t believe a word he said. I think you’re… well, intimidating. But in a good way.”

The contact was brief—just his hand on my shoulder—but it was enough to make my blood boil. Too tender. Too close. I smacked it away, hard enough that my palm stung, and turned on him like a cornered animal.
“Listen, Anderson. I don’t need your pity pats or your pathetic attempt at flirting. Get lost.”

I expected him to leave right away, to just let me stew in my rage and my shattered thoughts. But no. He only lowered his hand, uncomfortable, and stayed there, looking at me with those eyes like he could see through my armor. God, I wished he’d stop looking at me like that. Like he actually cared.

“Hey… I’m not trying to flirt,” he muttered, nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

The waves hit the dock’s pillars in a slow rhythm, and for one second I forced myself to breathe with it. But the calm didn’t last. I shot to my feet so fast the boards creaked.

“Oh, please!” I snapped, glaring daggers. “You really expect me to believe that lie? You think I’m that naïve?”

He blinked, startled, shrinking a little like he wished he could disappear.
“I… I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

Of course he does. He had to. Because the alternative was worse: that he really was that clueless, that he was really sitting here just because he cared… and not because he wanted something in return. That idea hurt more than any insult.

I folded my arms tight, hugging myself to keep from breaking apart.
“I’m not stupid, Anderson. You actually want me to believe that you, of all people, came here because you’re worried about me?”

Something in his face shifted. No longer confused—hurt. He dropped his gaze to the water, like the waves were easier to face than me.
“Well… you worried about me when you changed my bandages the other night. I just… wanted to return the favor.”

And there it was. That disarming sincerity that was somehow worse than any mockery. I couldn’t take it. Couldn’t let it sound that real. Because then I’d have to admit maybe he wasn’t just playing. A knot rose in my throat, and I twisted it into venom.

I forced out a laugh—sharp, dry, laced with poison.
“What’s wrong, huh? Gwen didn’t give you enough attention so now you’re trying your luck with me?”

I saw him freeze, like I’d just dumped a bucket of ice water over him. And yeah, I’d said it. Even though part of me screamed don’t cross that line, don’t be cruel. But it was too late.

“W-what? N-no, that’s not it, I was just—”

I didn’t let him finish. I grabbed his collar and yanked him up. Felt the fabric strain under my grip, his shaky breath, his light frame swaying in my hands. A dark part of me relished the control—having him there, trembling.

“Listen closely, Anderson. You’re pathetic. So small, so scared, so useless… and yet you keep trying to flirt with any girl that looks your way. Don’t you get it? You’re just a dumb optimist hiding under this ridiculous layer of fake confidence.”

He opened his mouth, but I shut him up with a glare sharp enough to kill. My chest heaved like I’d just run a marathon.

“And you want to know the worst part?” I pressed on, voice cracking with rage and something else I refused to name. “That stupid head of yours actually thinks if you keep this up, someone will accept you one day. But nobody will. Got it? Nobody. Because you’re pathetic.”

The words left me hollow, like I’d torn myself open just to spit them out. I turned away, not wanting to see his face. I waited for it—the shout, the insult, maybe even tears. Anything to justify what I’d just done. To let me say, See? I was right to push you away.

But the only thing I heard was his low voice, carrying a twisted humor I didn’t expect.
“Okay… ouch,” he said at last, scratching the back of his neck. “Was the thing about the girls really necessary? Noah already reminds me every day, now you too…”

I froze. That? That’s what stung him? That hurt more than me calling him useless, pathetic, a failure? A part of me wanted to shake him, to scream, Get mad, damn it! Make me feel like I’m not the only broken one here! But he didn’t. He just lowered his gaze, scratching his neck like some kid caught misbehaving in class.

I crossed my arms sharply, retreating into my anger.
“You’re such an idiot, Anderson. You don’t even know when to leave. Don’t you get it? I just want to be alone.”

If you keep looking at me like that, you’ll see it. You’ll see how weak I really am. And then you’ll laugh, just like everyone else.

He didn’t move. Not a step back. Not a single hint of retreat. His absurd calm churned my insides more than any mockery ever could.

“I know, but…” he spoke slowly, like he was testing the waters, “you always seem too sad, too lonely. What’s so wrong about just being here?”

The question hit me like a dart. I clenched my jaw.
“Everything.” The word shot out like a bullet. “You don’t understand. You can be whatever you want because no one expects anything from you. But me… I don’t have that privilege.”

My throat burned, but I forced a cynical smile.
“You don’t know what it’s like when everyone ignores you the moment you fall, when no one even flinches as you walk down the dock of shame.”

The image of Duncan, arms crossed, not even pretending to care, lodged itself in my mind. I inhaled sharply, rage filling my chest.
“You know what’s worse? That if anyone saw me break… they’d laugh at me. Just like always.”

There it was. I’d said it. Dressed in venom, wrapped in sarcasm—but said it all the same. The truth tasted like iron on my tongue. I sank back onto the dock, defeated, waiting for him to leave like everyone else always did.

But Cody didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me, like he was searching for a map on my face that he couldn’t quite read. I hated that look. Hated how it made me feel transparent.

“Courtney…” His voice was soft, almost a whisper the sea tried to steal away. “You don’t have to be amazing all the time.”

I bit my lip, holding back a bitter laugh. How could he say it so easily?

He glanced down for a second, then back up, wearing a crooked smile that seemed to ask for permission.
“No one’s gonna laugh at you for showing a little weakness. And if they do…” He paused, shrugged. “I promise I’ll hit them.”

I blinked at him.
“Hit them? You?”

“Well,” he chuckled nervously, scratching his hair, “I’d probably need help with the hitting part… but I could try. Maybe distract them while you throw the actual punch.”

The air escaped me in a strange sound—half sob, half laugh. I slapped a hand over my mouth, horrified he’d seen it, but it was too late. The knot in my chest loosened, just a little. Enough to remind me how tired I was of fighting everyone, all the time.

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. That ridiculous promise—half joke, half truth—had disarmed me more than any motivational speech ever could.

“You’re such an idiot…” I muttered.

Cody smiled and sat back down beside me, legs dangling off the edge of the dock like a kid. So irritating, yet ridiculously comforting for some reason.
“I know.” He shrugged. “But I made you feel better, didn’t I?”

I didn’t answer. The silence between us, broken only by the waves and the cool wind, was… almost comfortable.

Finally, when I felt like I could speak without crumbling, I did.
“I see you finally ditched that stupid sweater.”

He looked down at his clothes, confused for a second, then realized what I meant. The ridiculous getup from the night before was gone, replaced by a plain T-shirt I remembered from the competition.

“Oh, yeah… that was Noah’s. Borrowed it to cover the stained shirt.” A genuine smile spread across his face. “But since you fixed me up, that’s not a problem anymore.”

I frowned. Was he really going to keep bringing that up? Was it really such a big deal that I helped him with a few poorly wrapped bandages?
“Why do you keep mentioning that? It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe not for you.” He scratched the back of his neck, almost embarrassed. “I’m not someone people usually notice. It gets hard for anyone to see when I’m not okay… let alone decide to help. So, you know… I appreciate it.”

I folded my arms at once, hiding the heat that rushed to my cheeks.
“Pfft, whatever you say, nerd.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t throw a jab back, didn’t try to convince me. Just turned his gaze to the ocean, wrapped in that absurd calm that was so annoyingly his. And that was the worst part—that he didn’t need to push for his words to keep echoing in my head.

Silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t suffocating. It was different. And though I’d never admit it out loud, I caught myself thinking that being here, with him, didn’t feel so bad.

A couple of minutes passed before I dared break it again.
“I’m sorry about what I said about Gwen, I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He cut in quickly, almost on instinct. “You didn’t say anything that isn’t true. I… well. Let’s just say I’m not the best with girls.”

Why did he have to be so stupidly kind, even now? That only made me feel worse.
“Still,” I sighed, “I don’t get what you even saw in her. It’s not like she’s that special.”

He seemed to really think about my words, like it was some final exam, eyes drifting up to the sky as if the answer were written there.
“I guess… she just looked kind of sad at first. And her goth style caught my eye. You don’t see many girls like her where I’m from, you know?”

A short laugh escaped me, despite myself. Of course. Only Cody could say something so dumb and make it sound sincere.

“Are you always this stupidly nice?” I asked, raising a brow. “Seriously, I think I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen you mad.”

He looked amused, like the question was familiar. And that smile… that ridiculously sweet smile that didn’t match the fury still eating me up inside.

“What’s so wrong with being nice?” he replied.

I scoffed, crossing my arms tighter.
“People take advantage of it. Gwen, for example. She just gave you false hope to have one more ally.”

I saw a flicker in his face—a spark of discomfort. But he didn’t look away.
“And you think I don’t know that?”

I blinked, thrown off. I’d expected denial, a dumb excuse. But he just stayed there, calm.

“Then why?” I shot back, harsh. “If you know… why do you keep being so stupidly happy?”

He took his time. His eyes drifted to the water, to the warped reflection moving with the waves against the pillars. I tapped my fingers against the wood, impatient. I hated silences. Hated what they could reveal.

“I’m not very strong…” he said at last, quiet but steady. “But to help someone, I don’t really need muscles. And, well… I guess I just like helping people.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to stay silent.
“Seriously? That’s it?”

He lifted a shoulder, so naturally it made me want to scream.
“Well… why should I need an excuse to be good?”

I had no answer. Not because I couldn’t come up with a sarcastic jab, but because it was already on the tip of my tongue… and it still sounded hollow. Idiot. You can’t just say things like that with that face, like it’s easy. Like it doesn’t cost anything.

Silence again, but lighter this time. The ocean breeze seemed to sweep some of the tension away. Cody swung his feet off the dock, tapping a silly rhythm, while I stayed stiff, trying to convince myself I wasn’t comfortable.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked finally, my voice softer than I intended. “Of giving so much and getting nothing back?”

He smiled again, eyes on the horizon as it began to glow orange.
“Of course I get tired. But… how could I look at myself in the mirror if I gave up?”

How the hell could he say that with such peace? A sharp pang pierced my chest—anger and envy tangled together. I lived to prove nothing could break me, and here he was, accepting his cracks like they were part of the package.

“You know…” he said suddenly, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather, “I used to play piano.”

I whipped my head around so fast it nearly hurt my neck.
“You?” I scanned him up and down like he’d just changed species. “You don’t look like someone who could play… that.”

He laughed, shrugging.
“That? You make it sound like some kind of sea monster. It’s just a piano, Courtney.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me I got it wrong. You’re the computer guy, the video game guy, the one making bad jokes at three in the morning. But piano? Yeah, I’m not buying it.”

He tilted his head, amused.
“I started when I was little. My dad had old Elton John records, and I wanted to copy them. It was like… my way of feeling special.”

“Special,” I echoed with a mocking edge, though curiosity was gnawing at me inside. “Right. Nothing more rock and roll than a nerdy kid playing ‘Rocket Man.’”

“Hey!” he protested, but laughing. “I played other stuff too. Well… I tried.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, doubtful. What if he actually could play? What if that ridiculous confession wasn’t so ridiculous?
“Then why didn’t you join the talent show back on the island?”

He went quiet for a beat too long. I was ready to make another joke, but then he answered, voice low:
“My mom said I sounded terrible. So… I just stopped trying.”

I crossed my arms at once, hiding the sting his words left in me.
“Well, I guess she was right. I can’t really picture you being any good.”

But he didn’t argue. Didn’t even look offended. He just smiled with that absurd calm, like he was used to being underestimated. And that irritated me more than I cared to admit.

“You know…” I scoffed, trying to take back the upper hand, “even if you were good, the piano doesn’t suit you. You’re not the type who commands respect just by sitting at an instrument.”

“Maybe,” he replied without flinching. “But I liked it. And that was enough for me.”

I shot him a sideways look. How could he say something so simple and sound so convinced? A sharp pang hit my chest, a mix of anger and something else I didn’t want to admit: envy.
“You’re incredibly weird,” I muttered, folding my arms tighter.

“Thanks,” he said with a crooked grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips betrayed me with the ghost of a smile. The sea lapped softly against the dock, and the wind carried a salty scent that mixed with the damp wood. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be there, without pressure, without judgmental eyes on me.

“And you?” Cody spoke again, with that calm tone I hated because it always disarmed me. “Were you always the girl who had everything under control?”

“What kind of question is that?” I shot back, raising a brow.

“An honest one.” He shrugged. “I mean… you don’t have to give me your whole biography. Just… was there ever something you did just because you liked it, without worrying if it was ‘useful’ or not?”

I almost fired off a sarcastic reply, but the way he said it stopped me. There was no mockery. Just genuine curiosity.
“I…” I bit my lip, hating how exposed I felt. “When I was a kid, I liked organizing games with my neighbors. I made schedules, rules, prizes. Even printed diplomas with crayons.”

“So you were always a leader,” he laughed. “Just in fun-size version.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small, involuntary laugh escaped me.
“I guess so.”

“See? That doesn’t sound scary. It sounds… adorable.”

I dropped my gaze to the water. The orange glow of sunset was spilling across the surface, setting the sea on fire. I was shocked at how quickly time had passed. When I’d arrived here, I was ready to explode, convinced no one understood me, and now… now I was sitting here, smiling like it didn’t matter.

“Wow…” I murmured before I could stop myself. “Didn’t even notice the sun was setting.”

“Yeah, we’ve been here a while.” Cody stretched, eyes on the horizon. “We should head back before it gets too cold.”

I nodded, though part of me didn’t want to let go of the calm in that moment. I stood slowly, and before I could take a step, I heard myself whisper:
“Cody… thank you.”

He turned to me, surprised, but I had already looked away, hiding the heat creeping up my face.

“Well, well, did I hear that right?” he teased, leaning toward me. “Did you just call me Cody and not Anderson? I think I’ll mark that on my calendar.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, masking how quickly my cheeks were burning.
“Don’t get used to it. It was a slip, got it?”

“Sure, sure.” He made an exaggerated gesture, like someone locking away a secret. “A very special slip.”

I shoved him with my shoulder, grumbling under my breath, but I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my lips. And as we started walking back to the resort, the sky blazing in shades of orange and violet behind us, I realized something I’d never admit out loud: I felt better than I had in days, like some invisible weight had finally lifted from my shoulders.

---

 

Notes:

This… got way more support than I expected.

I mean, it’s not like this suddenly became the most famous Total Drama story out there, but for being about a ship like CoCo (What do you guys think about CoCo as a ship? Do you find it believable or just a total crackship?), I think it’s pretty surprising that it’s been received this well.

And here on AO3 too! That tells me two things:
First, there are still people out there who care about this ship.
And second… the Digmon fandom is dead… xd

Well, maybe not that dead. In the end, I actually like writing unconventional stuff, so I probably shouldn’t be surprised if not many people read my stories.

Anyway, setting that aside a little—do you like the pacing so far? I don’t want to rush things, but I also don’t want the romance to drag on too slowly. Speaking of that, do you feel like any of the characters are out of character? I remember Cody pretty well—mostly because he’s my favorite character—but I never really paid much attention to Courtney. Do you think I’m writing her well?

As for Cody, he’s always been kind of a blank canvas that everyone fills in with their own headcanons. Maybe that’s why I enjoy writing him so much: I can just give him whatever background I want and then explain it little by little in the story. But I’m not going to change him too much, because honestly I think Cody’s already a great character as he is—the writers actually did a good job with him, in my opinion. How can people dislike him?

Next chapter, Harold arrives! Will Cody be able to defuse the bomb before he drags the whole resort straight to hell?

Once again, thank you so much for all the support. I really appreciate it from the bottom of my heart, and I’ll see you in the next chapter.

Chao ✌️