A/N: I know I shouldn't be writing a new story yet, since I still haven't finished my other one (sorry if anyone reads it, I'm working on it, slowly!) but I couldn't help it! I wanted to read something like this, but seeing how no one has written a Degrassified version of The Last Song yet, I decided to give it a try.;) So read, and tell me what you think.
And by the way, I haven't read the book in almost a year, so details may be off. Though I did read the book 500 times, so it shouldn't be that bad.;)
OH! I almost forgot! Ages:
Clare: 17
Eli: 17
Adam: 14 (had to make him older than Jonah was in the book:D)
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, The Last Song, Thanks for the Memories by Fall Out Boy (the song used in the chapter) or anything else like that that I happen to incorporate into this little story.:/
The Last Song
Clare Edwards sat grumpily in the front seat of her mother's old car, with her arms folded across her chest, and an angry look on her face.
"Mom, why are you making me go away this summer? I should be allowed to spend it with my friends and have a good time! I don't want to see Dad!" she complained, looking at her mother out of the corner of her eye.
"That's exactly why you're going, Clare. You need your father; you haven't been in a good place since he left," she gently, but firmly explained.
"Well, maybe I wouldn't be in a bad place if he didn't leave us!" This had always been a touchy subject for Clare, especially considering how close she and her father had been, before her parents got divorced and he moved away to a whole different state.
"Clare, it's not all his fault. The marriage just didn't work out, and I'm just as much at fault as he is. Don't hold it against him, because it's hurting both of you."
"But you're not the one who moved fourteen hours away from your family! He is! He doesn't care enough to stay with us, and he didn't care enough to try and fix your marriage!"
Clare was on the verge of tears by now, and that thought made her even more upset. She hated to cry; crying shows her weakness, and leaves her emotions exposed to the rest of the world. So when her father left, she changed who she was. She started dressing differently; instead of wearing her usual jean skirt and flower top, she started wearing black skinny jeans, converse, dark colored tops or band tees, painting her nails black, and even dying her light, auburn colored hair a darker brown, with a purple streak in it. Her once shoulder-length, curly hair was morphed into longer, darker, boob-length hair, that she straightened every morning. She was unrecognizable, and so was her attitude. Her usual bright, bubbly, optimistic view of the world was replaced by a bitter, sarcastic, rebelling girl, who did everything she could to piss her mother, and especially her father, off. And most of the time, it worked. But this time, she wasn't getting out of seeing her father, for the whole summer, no less.
"Does Dad know Clare was arrested?" her younger brother, Adam, piped up from the back seat. He had been listening to their conversation while simultaneously reading his comic book, and wanted to be a part of it.
"Shut up, Adam!" Clare snapped, looking back at the fourteen year old with daggers in her eyes.
He held his hands up in surrender, but his eyes still held a curiosity to them about whether she was going to get yelled at for that by their father.
Helen sighed, knowing the topic wouldn't be dropped until she answered it. "Yes, he knows, but no, Adam, you're not going to go bringing it up to him," she answered sternly, wanting them to have a fun, happy summer. She knew things that the kids didn't, but she wasn't supposed to tell them, for fear that it would just make the kids upset, rather than have them enjoy the time they had with their father.
"Yeah, and if you do-" Clare started, but what cut off by her mother's sharp glare. Adam just stuck his tongue out at her.
Clare groaned and reached to turn on the radio, preparing to tune out the annoying things around her for at least a few hours, but was caught off guard by a tape of her playing the piano at Carnegie Hall playing softly throughout the car. It was Clare's turn to glare at Helen, before reaching into her purse by her feet and taking out her iPod. She put it on shuffle, and let the music overtake her.
One night, and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great
He tastes like you, only sweeter
A few hours later, the car rolled to a stop in front of an old-looking beach bungalow, right by a huge ocean.
"Clare, honey, wake up. We're here," Helen said, shaking her daughter's shoulder a little to wake her up more.
"Mmmph," Clare grumbled in response, squeezing her eyes shut tighter, hoping that her mother was wrong, that it had all been a dream, and when she opened her eyes, she'd be looking at her bedroom in their small apartment back in New York. Of course, she was only setting herself up for disappointment, when she opened them to see the semi-large house in front of an unfamiliar beach.
She groaned and grabbed her purse, opening her door and stepping out, only to have her shoe fill up with sand. "Ugh, great."
She looked up on the porch to see her smiling father, hugging his ex-wife and eager son.
"Adam, my boy! How have you been? You've gotten so big!" Randall exclaimed, widening his eyes in fake astonishment.
"I've been great, Dad! But I missed you," Adam replied, excited at first, but a bit saddened towards the end.
"I missed you, too, Bud! But lucky for us, we get to spend the whole summer together!"
Clare stopped listening to their conversation and rolled her eyes, walking away from the house and towards the beach. She looked up at the sky and noticed the sun had started to set. She checked her phone and it read 8:30. She was surprised it was still light out; in New York, it would have been dark already, with the exception of all the city lights.
She walked around for a few minutes, not really looking for anything in particular, when she came across a concession stand. She decided to get something to drink, since she hadn't had anything since that morning, when her mother had stopped at Starbucks before getting out onto the highway.
She walked up to the stand and looked at the menu, deciding to order a strawberry smoothie. She waited patiently for it, and then paid for it, walking off towards the beach. She looked over and saw a beach volleyball game going on, but didn't pay much attention to it. She sipped at her smoothie randomly, looking out at the beautiful sunset. However, she wasn't expecting to be suddenly knocked over, spilling her smoothie all over her. She looked up, annoyed, ready to yell at the person, when she found herself looking into a pair of shocking emerald eyes.
"I am so sorry, I was going after the ball, and I didn't see you there," the boy who ran into her rambled. Clare finally studied him, and saw a guy about her age, with a long mop of dark brown hair, black swim trunks, a smirk, a guitar pick necklace, and skull rings decorating his fingers.
"Yeah, well, sorry isn't gonna get this stuff off of me," Clare snapped, gesturing to her shirt, which was coated in her smoothie.
She was wearing a black Fall Out Boy concert tee shirt, black shorts that went to mid-thigh, her purple converse, and some wristbands with different names of bands on them, covering her wrists. But now, her shirt had pink splattered all over it. The words 'Fall Out Boy' now looked a lot like 'Ful Cut Bcx', because of the thick liquid covering the letters.
"Let me buy you a new shirt, then?" the guy offered, throwing another smirk at her. It was really beginning to piss her off, but she'd just have to get rid of him.
"No thanks, I think you've done enough," she retorted sarcastically. She started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her wrist and turned her around to him.
"You have pretty eyes," he said honestly, loving her wide, baby blue eyes. But she seemed unfazed.
"Thanks, now, if you're done hitting on me, you can go back to your little game; it looks like they miss you," she joked, referring to all the bleach blonde girls in skimpy bathing suits, calling his name from the sideline.
"I wasn't hitting on you! I was just stating my opinion," he defended smoothly, loving this girl's sarcastic attitude, which was much like his own.
"Yeah, well do you go around 'stating your opinion' on every stranger's eyes you meet?" she shot back, giving him a smirk of her own at his shocked expression. He was surprised; most of the girls down here were always hitting on him, or trying to, at least. It annoyed the hell out of him, but this girl wasn't acting like those other girls at all. Then again, he doesn't recall ever seeing her around before.
"That's what I thought," Clare said, before picking up what was left of her smoothie and walking away to find a napkin to wipe up her shirt.
The truth is, though she'd never admit it, she thought the guy was kind of hot. He wasn't exactly buff, but he did have defined abs and muscle, even if it wasn't 'The Situation' kind of abs. And that made it even better, because she hated when guys worked out religiously; it was just a major turn off to her. Most of her friends would disagree, but that was just her opinion. And God, those eyes, she could stare into them all day, given the chance. His smirk was highly annoying, but it suited him, and his sarcastic manner. But he seemed like a player, so she didn't want to get any more involved with him than she did. Though, she did like the fact that he thought her eyes were pretty . . .
Clare was snapped out of her thoughts by someone once again bumping into her, spilling the rest of her smoothie onto her shirt, again. Clare had been halfway through cleaning up her shirt when this happened, so it only pissed her off more.
"Does anyone here watch where they're going?" she snapped, looking up at the person who bumped into her. It was a girl who looked like her age, about the same height as her, with wildly curly black hair, at least a dozen piercings in her ears, warm, chocolate colored eyes, and she was dressed in a black dress-type thing, combat boots, and black leggings.
It was kind of like she was Clare's Goth twin, because they both wore black, all the time. Plus, Clare also had a bunch of piercings in her ears, including the one she got in her belly button a few weeks ago, right after her mom told her about this little trip; she got it to piss her off, since her mother was completely against body piercings.
"Okay, chill out. My bad. And what do you mean no one watches where they're going?" the girl asked curiously.
"I was in the middle of wiping this," she paused, holding up the now empty smoothie cup, "from my shirt from when some guy spilled it on me a few minutes ago from my shirt, when you bumped into me and got even more on me!" she exclaimed, exasperated at the thought that her shirt was probably ruined, now.
She did like this shirt, because she got it when she snuck out to the Fall Out Boy concert that she went to with her ex, Fitz, last summer. She may not be able to stand the guy, but she had fun with him, and at the concert. No, she didn't drink or do drugs with him, but they did have a fun time listening to one of their all-time favorite bands, together. Plus, her mom got so pissed off at her for sneaking out to go out with a boy she hated, to go to a 'loud, rowdy, out of control rock concert', as her mother put it. And to top it all off, she got caught sneaking in at three in the morning, smelling like beer and weed, all thanks to Fitz. But her mother spent more time lecturing her than she did with her boyfriend, Brian, so it was all worth it, in her opinion.
"Oh, wow. That must suck, then. Here, let's go find you a new shirt, since your old one should really be washed," the girl offered, being strangely hospitalic. "My name's Blaze, by the way."
"Blaze? What the fuck was your mom on when she named you?" Clare questioned, wondering who in hell would name their kid that; it sounded more like a nickname, or a brand of cigarettes to her.
'Blaze' just laughed and said, "That's not my real name; I'm actually named Bianca, but I hated it, so my boyfriend, Owen, gave it to me."
"Oh, that's cool, I guess. At least you weren't born with that name," Clare said, mumbling the last part. Blaze laughed and grabbed Clare's hand, dragging her towards the many booths, containing clothes.
"My name's Clare."
"Oooh, Clare. Such a pretty name," Blaze mocked.
Clare hit her on the arm jokingly and said, "Shut up, Bianca."
"How about this one?" Blaze asked, holding up a really cute tee shirt to Clare.
"That's cute, but how much is it?" She liked it, but she only had ten dollars on her.
"Umm . . . twenty," she said, checking the price and tossing the shirt at her.
"Too much," Clare answered, tossing it back down on the display table.
"Well, looks like this is your only option," Blaze said laughing, while holding up a seven dollar tee shirt, with an orange and white fish on the front that Clare recognized as Nemo.
"Oh, God," Clare said, putting her face into her hands, muffling the sound.
"It's either this, or the smoothie one."
Clare sighed, deciding she didn't want to be covered in smoothie the whole night. She grabbed the shirt from Bianca's grip, and took it up to pay for it. Once she did that, she slipped it on, realizing that it was way over-sized, and that it covered her shorts and went to her knees.
"You look so hot right now," Blaze joked, laughing at the ridiculous shirt and the girl wearing it's expression.
"Shut up," Clare grumbled, putting her arms over her chest to hide the cartoon fish.
"Don't be ashamed; I loved Finding Nemo – when I was five!" Blaze exclaimed, bursting into a fit of laughter at her joke.
Clare started to laugh, too, after a while, picturing how ridiculous she must look.
They started to walk, going to sit by the pier. Once they got comfortable, Blaze started conversation.
"So, where are you from? Obviously not here, since I've never seen you before, and I've lived there my whole life," she started.
"I'm from New York, actually. I've lived there my whole life. I'm here with my little brother, visiting my dad," she explained, growing bitter at the mention of her father.
"Wait, you're visiting your father? Meaning that, you don't live with your father, AND he lives in a completely different state?" Blaze questioned incredulously.
"Yep. Walked out on us three years ago, though I have no idea why. We were close before he left, and now that he's gone, can't stand him."
"Wow," Blaze whistled. "Anyways, c'mon, you've gotta come meet Owen." She got up suddenly, and grabbed Clare's hand, pulling her towards a spot on the beach where a crowd was gathering.
"What are we doing?" Clare asked, wondering what the hell was so important that there was a crowd for.
"Shh, it's starting!" Blaze shushed.
And, as if on cue, out stepped three guys who looked maybe a little older than her, holding small white balls that looked like golf balls, except that they were on fire.
"How are they doing that?" Clare questioned, confused and incredulous.
"They're called fireballs; the way they hold them is special, so they don't get burned," Blaze explained, watching as if she'd seen this a hundred times, yet her eyes still showed a slight interest.
The two girls, along with the crowd, watched intently for about ten minutes, until a police officer came up and broke up the show. He said something to them about how he hated having to always bring Owen in for something, and that he better start turning his life around.
They took their tips that people left, and made their way over to Blaze and Clare, seemingly unfazed by the police officer.
"Hey, babe. Who's this?" the one in front asked, cocking his head towards Clare, for emphasis.
"This is Clare. She's from New York, and she's visiting for the summer," Blaze explained, going up to the tall one with short, blackish hair who asked the question, and wrapping her arms around him. Clare immediately figured that this must be that Owen guy who Blaze said she was dating.
"Hey, Owen." He stuck his hand out for her, which she took and quickly shook, before dropping it.
"Clare."
"This is Johnny, and this is Bruce," he said, gesturing to the two in the background, who had their hands in their pockets. They nodded their heads a little, and went over to a spot on the beach that had logs in the sand, and sat down. Blaze and Owen followed suit, and made themselves comfortable. Clare went over, too, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Owen broke it.
"Babe, I'm hungry; go get me some fries," he ordered to Blaze, who, for some reason, went and got in line for them.
Clare was pondering why she'd do what he said, when she heard the log cackle underneath weight beside her, and she looked up to see Owen, with a flirty smile on his face.
"So, Clare. Where are you staying?" he asked, trying to be smooth by putting his arm around her. She could immediately smell the liquor on his breath.
"Okay, one, I'm not interested; two, you're dating Blaze, so back off," Clare snapped, immediately disgusted.
"God, Clare! Stop hitting on me! I have a girlfriend," Owen yelled out, just loud enough for Blaze to hear. She turned her head, and looked angrily at Owen and Clare.
"Clare, what the hell! You know I'm dating him, so why did you try to hit on him?" She had stomped her way over to them, when Clare jumped up and removed his arm from her.
"Blaze, he hit on me, and I told him to get lost! I swear, I do not like him, nor would I go for him, when he's dating you!" Clare defended, knowing that this would not end well for her.
"Uh huh, sure. You know what? Stay away from me, and stay away from my boyfriend!" she exclaimed, emphasizing the word 'boyfriend.'
"Okay, fine. Don't believe me. But I don't think he really knows what the word 'boyfriend' means. So good luck with that," Clare spat, not putting up with games from people she just met. She walked away, and when she was a few feet away, she heard commotion coming from where Blaze and Owen were standing.
"Dude, what the hell is your problem?" an angry, yet familiar voice questioned.
She turned around to see the guy from earlier, the one with the emerald eyes, the one who spilled her smoothie on her and hit on her.
He had shoved Owen backwards, and it looked like a fight.
"Tell your friend Drew to stop playing with fire," Owen sneered, trying to get under the guys' skin.
"Shut the hell up. You don't know anything," a second guy that was standing with the emerald eye one said, obviously knowing what Owen meant about playing with fire. This guy was a little taller, and had hair like Owen's, and he looked like a player, with his perfect teeth, and his pretty face.
Clare shook her head at the scene in front of her, walking away, only to be stopped by the cop from earlier.
"Are you Clare Edwards?" the cop asked, preventing her from going forward.
"Yeah, why?" Clare asked, annoyed and confused.
"I'm taking you home. Your father asked me to look for you," he explained, taking her elbow, and towing her towards his car.
Something clicked in Clare's head, and she suddenly became extremely furious with her father.
The ride to her house was short, and when they got there, the officer walked her up to the door. She looked at his nametag, and it read, 'Archie'. Clare silently snorted at his name, and when she made no move to walk inside, Archie cleared his throat and said, "I can make you go in there, you know."
She rolled her eyes and stomped in her house, ready to give her dad an earful.
A/N: Bad ending, but my fingers hurt, and it's late. How did you like it so far? Major fail, or should I continue? Let me know in a REVIEW. I want to get at least five, saying to continue, but if this was a stupid idea, then I'll just end it here. So, review? I'll give you a cookie!:) And sorry if this seems rushed, but I wanted to get this in motion, and I'm pretty sure most of this happens within the first chapter of the real book, anyway.;)