I'm still not entirely sure how i recognized him that evening—or, early hours of the morning, I guess it really was. I guess I was just too familiar with his face to not notice it, even past a frosted-over windshield in the dark of a December night with a few too many cranberry mimosas clouding my vision. Maybe it was just wishful thinking that turned out to be true this time.

Maybe fate just has a funny way of working out.

I'd told my mom I would be home by midnight, one AM the latest. I think I may have even used the word "promise". My ex-boyfriend and his new boyfriend, Miles and Tristan respectively, both of whom were former friends of mine that I'd fallen out of contact with, were hosting a holiday party. It was for our graduating class, who had gotten diplomas from Degrassi Community School that June and went our separate ways ever since. A Not-Too-Ugly Sweater Party, they called it, encouraging festive attire but "nothing too tacky", as per request of Tristan. The invitations had been mass-produced on cards meant to look like aged parchment and adorned with gold leaf and crimson ink—definitely much fancier than something you'd expect from two 18-year-olds hosting a BYOB Christmas-themed gathering of college freshmen in festive jumpers. Still, the text advised the entire grade to attend, encouraging everyone from the antisocial to the socialites to come, reconnect, bury any hatchets, share their university (or other life-after-high-school) experiences, and most importantly, to "eat, drink, and be merry".

I hadn't spoken to either of them since graduation, when I hugged almost everyone I'd nostalgically interacted with since I was 13 and held back tears for the sake of my eye makeup. Graduation, like the rest of senior year, had been emotionally trying, but despite how many "don't be a stranger"s and "keep in touch"es I'd given and gotten, I lost contact with almost everyone once I moved to the west coast of the U.S. for university. My mother thought the invite was a sweet gesture and had absolutely no qualms about my going, but she always worried about me being out by myself, especially at night. I knew that, but I suppose I'd figured my surviving a semester on my own in California would have made her loosen the chain at least a little bit.

However, not one to complain about being cared for too much, I promised her the curfew.

...Three hours past it with champagne and vodka in my system and the weather at least 10 degrees colder than it had been when I had walked to Hollingsworth manor, I realized the time and scrambled to get going. The party had been a hit, to say the least. I even heard the hosting couple toss around the idea of having an encore for New Year's, which I excitedly (and drunkenly) already agreed to attend. After all, I'd been having so much fun at this one; a whirlwind of (mostly intoxicated, albeit) socialization among strangers who used to be classmates, it mended old friendships, sparked new ones, and really captured that warm, fuzzy feeling you yearn for when you think about coming home for the holidays.

However, it definitely lasted longer than I thought it would—or really, I lasted there longer than I thought I would. Extroverted atmospheres hadn't been my thing for a while, and really I was only going because I thought the invitation was a nice gesture and that reacquainting myself with some once-familiar faces would make my home visit feel a bit more, well, homey. I definitely went in with no intentions of staying very late.

But through the drinks that kept pouring and the conversations that kept flowing and person after person coming through the door being met with my wistful slurs of greetings, I got so comfortable that I lost track of time. There was still music playing on an Ipod speaker in the kitchen sine the DJ left at 2, and the remaining designated drivers could be heard softly chatting throughout the house, but everyone else was either trying to sober up, off somewhere hooking up, or passed out in a place that they probably hadn't meant to pass out in. I clearly fit into the first category as I searched the floor of drunken, sleeping bodies in an attempt to gather my belongings.

"You are not driving like that," I heard a laugh at my expense as I stumbled over the boots of a sleeping party-goer, pulling my denim jacket off the coat rack (nearly knocking the rack over in the process).

Rolling my eyes teasingly, I turned around. "Like what, Jonah?"

Curled up on the couch, his arm around her shoulders, were two of my former bandmates and on-off acquaintances, Jonah and Grace. I used to be closer with the both of them, but senior year was a bit of a falling out for us—well, for me from them. They ended up dating a little over midway through it, and seemed to be happily continuing to do so. It was weird to see at first, but I had to admit, they seemed pretty fitting as a couple. Even looked the part.

"Like...drunk." He smirked.

Shaking my head, I pulled my gloves out of my coat pockets and slipped them on. "I'm not drunk, I had like...maybe two drinks."

"More like four," Jonah countered.

"Yeah, and about six shots." Grace added, eyebrows raised. "Or do you not remember getting up and dancing on the kitchen table and Miles having to pull you off?"

"Was that before or after she nearly knocked over the Christmas tree?" Jonah looked over at her.

"Mmm...after, I think," Grace mused, counting on her fingers, "Because that's when she started crying and flopping on the couch telling everyone how much she loved them."

"Oh that's right! When she was all, 'I miss you guys, why did we stop talking, we should get the band back together!'"

"Exactly, and then Closer came on and suddenly it was 'this is my song!' and onto the table she went."

"And Miles had to throw her over his shoulder to get her down."

"Didn't stop her from singing, though! Wasn't her best performance but the girl's got heart."

"You guys are the worst," I made a face at them both as I scanned the floor for my purse.

"Maybe, but at least we weren't clinging to Zoe Rivas whining about how we should put our pasts behind us," Grace grinned.

Eyebrows raised, I laughed. "She started that one, okay! and she was more drunk than I was." I jerked my thumb towards Zoe, who was passed out next to the fireplace in the arms of her girlfriend, who had been quietly chuckling as she overheard our conversation.

"Point. She was practically groveling at your feet." Jonah chuckled, turning to grab Grace's hand and putting on a high-pitched voice. "Maya, I'm so sorry, your life was a living hell and it was all my fault!"

"Yeah, and then you were all, no, I'm sorry, I was so awful to you too!" Grace joined in the mocking, interlocking their fingers.

"But I made that Facerange page!"

"But I wrote that song about killing you!"

"But I slept with your boyfriend! I don't even like boys!"

"But then she was all, let's find you someone to hook up with while you're home."

"And then you were all, oh my god, no, hookups never work out for me, and started lamenting about your college one night stand nightmares."

"Shut up," I crinkled my nose, tugging my hat over my (now messy) blonde curls. "That was hours ago."

Jonah smirked. "Doesn't mean you sobered up that much though."

"I'm fine. Besides," I fastened the top buttons of my coat, "I'm not even driving."

"You got a cab?" Jonah asked.

Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Probably an Uber. Do you know how expensive cabs are this time of year?"

"Oh, like Uber's any better? People can upcharge for the holidays, can't they?"

"Taxi services can, too, and I promise you they're much higher, not to mention how long it takes them to get you."

"Well anyone's gonna take forever in this weather—"

"Guys, I'm walking."

Both of them looked at me in synchronized astonishment. "What?" Jonah laughed incredulously. "No you're not."

"Yeah, it's like...negative degrees outside." Grace seconded.

As I wrapped the scarf around my neck, I shrugged. "I walked here. I figured I'd be drinking so I wouldn't be able to drive home anyway. I didn't think I'd be getting home this late, but...I don't have much of a choice."

The two of them looked at each other and both knew to stand up. "I'll go warm up the car?" Jonah suggested.

Grace nodded. "Keys are in my bag."

He nodded as well, making his way to the dining room. The car was Grace's, but cold air wasn't the easiest on her lungs, so Jonah made it a point to keep her out of it as much as he could, and she understood.

I took no convincing to accept a warm car ride home from two people who hadn't touched a drink all night as opposed to a half-drunk stumble through snow and ice by myself in the dark in the middle of the night. Not only was it an all-around more pleasant option, but I knew it would sweeten the apologies to my mom, who I figured was still up and awaiting my return. At least I could tell her my trip home was a safe one.

"You should call her and let her know you're...you know. Alive." Grace glanced at me over her shoulder as Jonah got out of the passenger seat to go pump her gas.

I shook my head. "My phone's dead. Like totally dead. I went to check if she'd been trying to get ahold of me and it wouldn't even give me that 'charge your battery' screen."

"You probably drained it all night taking selfies. You insisted on taking one with everyone there." She rummaged through her center console and singled out a white wire, curving it my way. "Do you want to charge it some? Maybe see if you can call her before we get to your house?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." I scooted forward to plug my phone in. Once I saw the screen flash, I set it in a cup holder, and really my only thought from there was to sit back and continue bracing myself for the hurricane of a motherly scolding that would be waiting for me at home.

But as I drew in a breath to speak, my gaze flocked to the windshield for some reason and the air hitched in my chest. I'm still not sure how my eyes were caught like that. Maybe it was simply reflexive, or again, maybe fate just intervenes sometimes...

Grace must have noticed my fixation because after the few beats of shared silence, she looked up at me, and then looked forward to try and find whatever had grabbed my attention. "...What?"

Nothing about the weathered red station wagon parked in front of us was familiar, and its dirty windshield was cloudy with both fog and accumulated frost, but I still managed to see him, swathed in a pile of thin fleece blankets and fast asleep, head leaned onto his own shoulder. Beneath the hood of his black sweatshirt was a grown-out version of that disconnected, shaved-sides haircut he'd had for years, matching the scattered dusting of scruff I could barely make out along his jaw and upper lip. I didn't even know he was capable of growing facial hair. He looked tightly bound by all of his fabrics and his jaw was slacked. I couldn't see it, but I had a feeling he was drooling a bit, too, just like he used too when he slept that deep.

He was barely discernible...and yet somehow, I knew him immediately...

"...Maya, what are you looking at—"

"That's Zig!"

Grace blinked and leaned in closer, squinting. "Wait, what?"

But I was already unbuckling my seatbelt and throwing the car door open, slipping out and eagerly making my way to his parking spot. I could hear Grace's muffled attempts at stopping me in the near distance, but they were quickly blocked out when I approached the driver's window. From this angle, I could see him so much better; his stubble trailed all the way up his pronounced jawline, his dark lashes nestled together over his soft, sleeping eyes, lips parted with the light snoring he would fall into in his slumber, definitely the essence of drool...I'd know him anywhere.

I barely tapped on the window but he startled out of his rest with a jolt, eyes darting a bit to identify the sound. When they met mine, they lit up. I could see it. And I saw him mouth my name in apparent shock as he threw his layers of blankets off of himself and grabbed for the handle of his door, hurriedly pushing it open and spilling himself out of the car. "Maya." His voice was exactly as I'd banked it in my memories, seasoned with a laugh of disbelief, as he didn't hesitate to pull me into a tight, warm hug.

My eyes closed and I easily fell into it, basking in the contact. The embrace was familiar, as was his scent, and maybe it was the remnants of alcohol still in my system but an instant wave of nostalgia warmed my body. I couldn't help but notice the absence of his usual bulk as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. There were still muscles, he was just so much skinnier. Almost as he'd been when I first met him but taller and not quite so lanky. And he was cold, almost frighteningly so. But it was him.

"Hey, Zig," I chuckled as I bathed in the contact.

He let the hug linger for a moment before parting it, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, ah...just grab you like that," He laughed awkwardly, holding my shoulders and looking me over. "You look...great, wow..." He shook his head, smiling almost childishly. "Not that you don't always look great, but...you know. You look great."

I beamed. "Thanks! You look..." I paused to think of how to describe the thin, scruffy, ghost of my ex boyfriend, with his shaggy hair and bags under his eyes. The same leather jacket he's had since tenth grade now looked baggy on his slender frame, half-zipped over a red vest I'd never seen before and a grey flannel shirt. His ripped jeans seem to be worn over sweatpants, and there was a patch of duct tape on the rubber rim of his black work boots. "...I hardly recognized you, honestly!"

There was a falter in his smile and he nodded, dropping his hands from my arms and clearing his throat. "Yeah, it's, um..." He scratched the back of his neck, "...It's been a while!"

"Yeah...!" I managed a chuckle, "...Clearly..."

He forced a laugh, looked aside, and then looked back at me, gears visibly turning in his head. "...What are you even doing here, anyway? Not that I'm, uh...not happy to see you, but...aren't you supposed to be in California?"

"We're out for the semester," I nodded, "Winter break lets out like...way earlier in college than it did in high school."

His brows furrowed in thought. "Winter break?"

"...Yeah?"

"I thought that started in...December or something."

"...Yeah, today's the fifteenth."

"...Oh!" His eyes widened. "Oh. Shit. Damn, I...totally haven't been keeping track of the days at all. My bad...your birthday must have been last week, then, right?"

"Yeah, it was!" I laughed. "I came home the day before, got to spend it with my family, it was nice."

"Man, if I knew you were home, I would've...stopped by, gotten you a present or something."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine, I wouldn't expect that from you. We...haven't really talked since the summer, so..."

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. "...Right...that's...on me, I'm sorry."

I bit my lip, not wanting to agree but knowing that, since the beginning of summer, I'd always been the one reaching out to Zig, and Zig had been the one to never return my messages; texting, phonecalls, emails, Facerange...all went unanswered. Eventually I'd figured that he just wanted to be done with me, or maybe he was just busy with his own post-grad life, and stopped trying. Not that I didn't miss him since.

"Don't be!" I shook my head. "It goes both ways, you know?"

"Yeah, but it was really on me. I...got a new phone, never got the word out about it...I haven't been on any social media in...months...I could've tried harder to stay in touch."

I smiled. "Don't worry about it, okay? You can give me your number now if you want. We can get lunch or something one of these days. Catch up."

He smiled back. "Yeah. I'd like that."

We both reached into our pockets and swapped phones. His wasn't any kind of common smartphone that anyone could easily navigate, so he had to show me where to put my contact in. "It's a prepaid phone," He explained with a roll of his eyes. "It doesn't have a plan or anything. Way cheaper than my old one but you can't really get good apps on it."

"I guess that would explain the lack of social media then, huh?" I teased, handing it back to him.

Handing me mine, he chuckled. "Yeah, that's...about right."

The silence that followed dropped my gaze to the side, and I could feel the conversation going stale but I didn't want it to end. "...So...what were you doing here, anyway?" I pocketed my phone, nodding towards the gas station. "You...must've been here a while, your car's all frozen over."

"...Ah..." He dug his hands into his pockets and turned to the building, then back to me. "...I was just coming for a pack of cigarettes. I had one and then I guess I just...fell asleep in the car. Long day at work and all. Tired."

My brows quirked together. "Since when do you smoke?"

His eyes grew distant and he shrugged, the twinge of a smile curling up one side of his lips to curb his somber expression. "...A lot's happened over the past few months."

I studied his features, ready to question him when I heard the chime of the bells hanging from the store's glass door followed by a surprised Jonah. "Zig?"

Zig's eyes darted to the sidewalk, and I couldn't help but notice him stiffen. "...Jonah?"

"Hey, how've you been!" He walked over to join us, offering Zig a low-hanging high five.

He met him for the gesture, the two leaning in for a brief but boyish back-patting hug. "I've been alright!" Zig's bright tone was so synthetic now, nothing like it had been when I first showed up. I knew Jonah wouldn't be able to recognize that, but I sure could. I watched as he leaned back on his heels and pointed a finger between Jonah and myself. "...Are you two...?"

"—Oh, God no." I practically blurted it out.

Jonah looked at me and laughed. "Well, thanks, Maya. Nah, I'm still with Grace." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the car, which still sat stalling a few feet away.

Zig glanced in its direction and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, shit, my bad! I didn't even see her there." He waved at the window, and Grace waved back from behind it, a small smile playing on her quizzical visage.

"No worries, we try to keep her out of the cold air," Jonah explained, patting his chest.

Zig nodded. "I get you, I get you. Well, I won't keep you guys long, I don't want her sitting by herself all night."

"I'm sure she appreciates it." Jonah laughed.

I interjected, "But we're still gonna catch up one of these days, right?"

Zig's green eyes trailed back over to me, thawing. "Yeah," He nodded. "Lunch you said, right?"

"Yeah." I smiled.

"Yeah." He smiled back. "We'll do that."

"Cool." I nodded. "I'll call you."

"Cool." He nodded as well.

"Cool." I could feel the pause that fell between us so I leaned in for another hug, this one quicker and lighter than the last but still lingering enough to satiate me. I could now detect the essence of tobacco on the cold leather of his jacket, but it's hidden beneath his familiar scent. And I could feel him breathing beneath my arms.

Jonah coughed, signalling me to ease up. Zig and I exchanged small goodbyes before he turned to nod at Jonah. We parted ways, and I followed Jonah back to the car. Neither one of us said anything until we slid into our seats and closed the doors behind us.

"...So...I'll say it," Grace looked over her shoulder. "What the hell just happened?"

I was too busy watching Zig climb back into his own car to think of an answer.

"Maya found her someone to hook up with while she's home, that's what happened," Jonah laughed, buckling his seatbelt.

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. "Shut up."

"...He said he's going home, right?" Jonah watched Zig as he stayed in his parking spot.

"...I mean...he didn't, but...I'd assume, right...?"

"He's just kind of...staying there..."

We saw Zig look at us through the windshield. After a beat, he turned on his car. When he did, Jonah switched his own gears. The two vehicles pulled out of their parking spaces and crossed in time for all of us to exchange waves once again, and Jonah pulled out of the parking lot to pause at the nearby red light.

"...Notice how Maya didn't deny that, by the way." Grace's smirk was audible.

Jonah laughed, looking over at her. "Believe me, I noticed."

And I'm sure I would have had a comeback if I wasn't fixated on the back window, through which I watched Zig drive back around the gas station and park in the same spot once again.

What better way to prep for Season 4 of Degrassi Next Class than to write some college-aged Zaya AUs? I've had the idea for this one for months and I'm glad I was able to flesh out the first chapter, and while I'm not sure how many more there will be, I'm excited for more to come. I hope you guys like this one and let's see if I'll actually finish it! (P.S. it's rated M for later chapters.)

-Kina