Rick Meets Vivian
AN: The Rick Murray storyline always interested me the most, especially after the school shooting occurred. To say the least, I was frustrated with how things turned out, and I found myself thinking: what if there was someone at Degrassi who gave Rick a chance? Thus, this story happened! It's my fan-fiction "debut", and I hope you enjoy it! Actual dialogue from the series is being used, which I accredit to the writers of the show. While we explore Rick's situation, I would like to state that research has proven that school shooters in real life are not motivated by avenging their being bullied by classmates. T.V shows that focus on this topic are misleading as to what the characteristics of school shooters are actually like. Answers are complicated, so I encourage you to do your own research. This series of events is unique to Rick's character only and shouldn't be the hallmark with which we associate how all school shooters think and act. Happy reading.
Rated: T (mild violence and language)
Categories: Drama, Tragedy
Part I
I. Welcome to the Drama
"I wonder how much about what Paige said about him was true. If it is, I've stumbled across some serious high school drama."
Two weeks.
That feels like a long time while attending Degrassi Community School in Toronto, Canada. I must say, I never thought I'd be in Canada, but due to my father's sales job, and other personal issues, we moved from our hometown in Chicago to Toronto, which isn't a terribly long distance.
When I looked at this strange new brick building for the first time- yellow and baby blue-tinted windows tiling the upper half; two sets of glass double doors sitting on the bottom half; and a banner separating the two with large silver letters that read DEGRASSI COMMUNITY SCHOOL—I could only imagine what my life would be like beyond that point. When I saw students in their denim pants and t-shirts scattering about, moving in and out of the doors, I reassured myself that Canada wasn't at all a strange northern version of Antarctica. Least not in Toronto, Ontario. I was never a sucker for the American stereotypes about Canada, especially when they were remarked by ignorant classmates, but sicne I actually moved to this country for a permanent fix, nothing but these thoughts paraded through my mind, and I had to constantly remind myself of the reality of my situation. Canada is just like America in more ways than one. Maybe a little bit better in some ways.
As tedious as registering for classes was at such a short notice, and after the school year had started, it was also surreal; bizarre. It was as if I was watching myself in a dream going through health records, transcripts, and meeting new faculty and staff members. Random things stick out in my mind during that day; like when I discovered that the name for my computer science class was called Media Immersion, and the instructor's name was "A. Simpson." I actually chuckled out loud. My teacher has the name of that frivolous, yellow cartoon family on television-and he teaches high school students? He has to be the butt of every students' jokes!
Other than that and meeting Principal Raditch for the first time, my mind was on vacation. I was totally out of it, despite how friendly everyone behaved towards me. There was so much I had to accustom myself to, and so much I had to move on from, have to move on from. My friends, as a primary example, were so much of who I was before my father and I moved. I couldn't believe how numb I was to everything happening to me, but I was struggling to keep a memory. I had grown up being used to the Chicago suburbs and tall buildings, not the ones in Toronto. But I'm not here on vacation; I'm here to stay.
On the first day, well my first day, dad kissed me square on my forehead and hugged me tightly. "You'll have a great learning experience here." He said softly into my ear. "You've always been so eager to learn."
I hugged him back. "This is so strange. I don't know what to feel." Actually I was terrified, but I didn't tell dad that.
Dad kissed my hair and we let each other go. "I love you." He said.
"I love you more."
I watched my dad drive away in his blue mini-van, and inhaled.
That was the point of no return.
Two weeks on, and I've adjusted well. I've learned that I don't have to use my "magic petite powers" to swerve through hoards of people who fill the hallways like at my old school. Being only 4'10'' and 92 lbs, I was proud of my little advantage. Now it's unnecessary, unless there's a commotion going on. Anyway, I've had the pleasure of making two good friends. Queenie Parker, a girl who I stumbled across in my gym class, walked over to me in the middle of warm-ups tbat day.
"Yeah, the coach mentioned there was going to be a new student in our class," she said to me, "so I just wanted to meet you myeslf. You made that totally easy for me: not only are you a new face, but you appear to be so lost and confused. I felt sorry for you." I had no idea how to react to this girl, who I briefly thought was a little weird, so I just smiled and told her my name. After she apologized for being so fourthcoming, I warmed up to her. In a way she was like me, the me I was before I moved anyway: high-spirited and friendly. I liked her, and needed her as reminder of the way I used to be before this drastic change of location.
I've mostly become well acquainted with Queenie with her honest feedback and her spontaneity, and to top it all she's down to earth. She's officially my girl crush. Ivory is the other good friend I have made. She has a sassy, fiery personality much like her auburn hair. Her sarcasm is her strongest highlight, which gets a chuckle out of me every now and then.
Other classmates treat me nicely as well. Toby, for instance, doesn't hesitate to hold the door open for me every time he sees an opportunity. J.T., short for James Tiberius (sorry to disappoint you), finds ways to make me laugh, even though he's a little juvenile. I've also spoken with a girl they call…Manny? Yeah, something like that. Again, she's a short girl, but taller than I, with inky, thick long hair like a lion's. After having the opportunity to socialize with more and more new people, who shockingly weren't too crystalized in their own cliques to recognize me, I re-kindled some of the old spirit I once possessed.
Now, today, I'm sitting on the stairs in front of the school on this warm, sunny day. I close my eyes and drink in the leaf-scented breeze that's cool as it laps at my face.
"Someone tell me I'm hallucinating."
My eyes snap open. Apparently not everyone is enjoying this day. I recognize the voice as Paige Michalchuk's. It's too snooty to belong to anyone else's.
I turn around and see her standing behind me with a group of other students who I'm unfamiliar with except for Marco Del Rossi, a short, tan Italian guy with dark hair that he wears slicked back. I also see a tall, slender blonde join them, her hair in bangs. I recognize her from my English class. Is her name…Emma?
"Remember Terri McGregor? The girl that was in a coma last year?" Says a kid standing next to Paige. He has wavy hair the color of muddy hay.
"He's the psycho who put her there." Paige says. "His name's Rick. Her ex. He used to beat her."
Huh? What? Who?
"Yeah, and he's your new classmate, Emma: he starts 10th grade tomorrow." The dirty blonde says.
I tune out of the conversation. Who are they talking about? Where is he? I grab my backpack, throw it over my shoulder and stand up. Sure enough, I see the Rick kid standing with his mother as they talk with the principal, Mr. Raditch. It's like Deja Vu: another kid having to start classes late, and in the same grade as I as well. To some extent it's a comfort knowing I'm not the only student getting a rough start. I glance at Paige and her flock and notice them glaring in his direction. Bingo.
I stare at the kid. He doesn't appear threatening. He has mouse brown hair down to his shoulders and round, Harry Potter glasses on his face, which complement his decent-sized nose. He has semi-full sized lips, and his cheeks are rosy in the sunlight. At a first glance, he seems to be on the quiet side, and he even looks a little nervous as he wears a tiny glare on his face (or maybe it's just the glare of the sun). He isn't very tall either, or very muscular. I wonder how much about what Paige said about him was true. If it is, I've stumbled across some serious high school drama.*
Housekeeping: Since Vivian is a new student, she doesn't know all of the principal characters well (in case anyone is confused). Asterisks (*) indicate the end of a chapter, should I add notes at the end. Tell me what you think!
