Author's Note: So, I'm sorry this took so long, but I have good reasons. First of all, I'm in the middle of final exams. Ah. Second of all, I've gone to four different doctors in a row for this stupid infection I have, and it's been preventing sleep, which is really frustrating since I get up at, like, four a.m. I need as much sleep during the night as I can get! Anyway, so I've been sleeping everyday straight after my finals because, for some reason, it lets me sleep during the day. I know you don't want to hear about all of this lol, but I like to explain myself :) Sorry it took so long. Everything should be getting back on schedule now. I have an exam tomorrow, (the 13th) then Thursday, and then next Wednesday. After that, it's summer!!! So excited. Enjoy :)

"I am wearing this skirt," said Rebecca stubbornly, holding her right hand on her hip, flattening said skirt against her legs.

"No," said Dylan, "it's way too short."

Rebecca crossed her arms. Her face brightened when she saw Marco walking into the kitchen. He sat down tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. She handed him his already made coffee sitting on the counter top, and let him take a sip before bothering him.

"Daddy, do you see anything wrong," she pointed to her outfit, "with my apparel?" she asked hopefully.

Marco sighed, carefully looking her over. He nodded. "Yeah, you can wear it."

"Marco!" Dylan exclaimed. "I told her it was too short. People are going to," he frowned, "look at her."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "The point," she said quietly.

"You excited, hon?" asked Marco, ignoring Dylan's surliness.

Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted.

Marco looked appalled. "It's your first day in High School. You have no feelings on the matter?"

"There'll be a bunch of new people and all, but it's still just school," she said.

"Get excited, please," said Marco giddily. "Come on, let's go," he said, kissing Dylan on the cheek. He waved to them, not wanting to turn back to see Rebecca's revealing clothing.

"So, you're not going to be going in this late every day, right?" asked Rebecca, leaning her head against the window.

"Just today," he replied.

Rebecca was silent for a moment, watching her father quickly finishing his second cup of coffee. "Just because you work at Degrassi doesn't mean you're going to be around me, right?" she tried to sound nonchalant.

Marco laughed, not taking it offensively. "Eager to get rid of me? I'm not going to follow you, no," he said.

Rebecca nodded, going back to her own thoughts. Rebecca loved her parents to death, and she definitely wasn't embarrassed by them, but she'd dealt with a lot in the years past. For instance, other students hadn't really begun to find out about her 'different' family style until the end of her previous year, but there had been many rumors. Many of them she didn't care to even squash. She never cared what people thought of her, but she didn't want to lose all the popularity she'd gained. Starting at the High School meant her father was going to be around. If word got out that he worked there…well, many people would be more inclined to think about her situation.

She'd promised herself that her parents' orientation would never ever bother her, but the fact that it cost her many friends…well, that part hit close to home, not that she'd ever explain to her family that she'd ever lost anyone. It would make them feel horrible.

When they arrived at Degrassi, she found her heart was pounding. She shouldn't have been so nervous. Yes, there were new teachers, new students, older students, and she was in the building where Marco worked, but there was nothing to be worried about.

Rebecca let her father head to his office, kissing his cheek, and walking to her homeroom.

Walking into Mr. Simpson's computer room, she noticed many familiar faces, and also many new ones, but she tried not to be intimidated when she sat down in the seat closest to the door. 'Nearest exit', she thought to herself.

"Attention, everyone!" called Mr. Simpson, immediately quieting the students in the room. "My name is Mr. Simpson. Most of you are new to me, whereas some of you," he glanced at Rebecca, who smiled shyly, "I've met before. Now, you've all been in school before, so I'm sure that you know what's expected of you, but…"

It really was the same old thing. Speeches, lectures, rules, and expectation the first day; work, work, and more work the second day. Rebecca sighed, leaning her head in her right hand, propped up by her elbow.

"Ms. Donavan?"

"What?" said Rebecca, jumping back into reality after zoning for a moment.

Mr. Simpson smiled. "Try not to do that tomorrow. The bell rang," he said, nodding toward the door. Rebecca then realized she was alone in class.

Stupid. "Sorry, Mr. Simpson," she apologized, picking her books up from underneath her chair. "I'll pay attention tomorrow, I swear."

Mr. Simpson nodded, knowing the pressure she'd been under lately. It was only the first day, after all. He didn't need to get angry.

"Have a good day, Rebecca," he said.

Rebecca didn't respond. She was too busy rushing out the door to get to her first period class.

"Damn," she cursed, looking down at her schedule while the taller kids pushed her out of their way. "…don't know where this is."

"Uh, excuse me…"

"What?" Rebecca looked up to see whether the voice was directed at her. Most of the crowd had gone, with the exception of the boy in front of her and two girls scurrying to get to class.

"Crap," said Rebecca, hearing the bell ring. "So much for being on time this year," she said, frustrated. "Anyway, what's up?" she asked, talking to the boy while he walked slowly next to her.

"I can't find my way around this place. It's like a maze," he said. Rebecca took his schedule from his hands. It didn't matter; they were already late. "Oh, yeah, that's where I've got to go," she laughed. "We'll find it eventually."

"Thanks," he said, though Rebecca didn't know why. She hadn't given him much help. They walked together until they finally found the room.

"Decided to show up?" asked Mr. Armstrong, pausing in the middle of his lecture for the two to find a seat in the back. "Don't be late again," he warned, continuing with his speech.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "It's the first day," she said. "So," she whispered, "You didn't go to our Junior High. Were you in—"

"I'm new," he interrupted, "to the town, I mean."

"Ohh," she said. "I'm relatively new. I mean, I moved here in sixth grade because my dad works here, and he wanted to be closer…plus he wanted a house," she laughed.

"I see," he said. "So, your dad works he—"

"I'm not sure if you two realized this," said Mr. Armstrong, looking annoyed, "but if you'd like to join in, the rest of the class is listening to me."

"Sorry," said Rebecca.

"What are your names?" he asked, purely out of curiosity, Rebecca hoped.

"I'm Rebecca," she said, looking at the boy next to her, making sure he heard. She hated introducing herself twice.

"I'm Daniel," he said quietly. Rebecca had already gotten the feeling he was a shy boy, totally unlike herself, of course. He seemed nice, though, and she was a very good judge of character.

Mr. Armstrong nodded. "Not making a good impression on me," he said, and then started to talk again, every once in a while glancing back at them Fortunately, Rebecca knew when to stop talking.

"So," she said, the moment Armstrong started answering questions, "what were we talking about?" she asked.

Daniel shrugged. "You know," he said conversationally, smiling slightly, "you talk really fast."

Rebecca laughed. "No offense," he added, though she wasn't offended.

"I get that a lot," she said simply. "So, why'd—"

"Tomorrow is when we're really going to start," said Mr. Armstrong, "so I appreciate having most of your attention this period. There's ten minutes left, so take advantage of it," he finished. Rebecca rolled her eyes. Same every year.

"Why'd you move here?" she said again.

Daniel sighed. "Parents…separation," he said.

Rebecca bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said.

Daniel waved away her apology. "I'm okay," he said. "To tell you the truth, I'm sort of glad, but don't repeat that," he whispered, as though his mother would appear right beside them.

"I wouldn't," she said honestly. "That must be hard, though. Who do you live with? Your mom?"

"Yeah," he said. He didn't seem to mind talking about it. In fact, he looked rather happy to get it out there to someone. "I don't understand why we had to leave, you know? I keep thinking to myself: why couldn't dad leave? He was the one who—sorry, am I bothering you?" He looked extremely apologetic

"Not at all," she said. "Continue."

"Well, he just screwed everything up, and it makes me so angry, you know? I mean, I never tell my parents anything, anyway," he said quickly. Rebecca smiled.

"See, under pressure, you talk pretty quickly too," she said. This boy was a little hard to figure out, but she didn't mind.

He paused in his frustration with his father. "Who says I'm under pressure?"

The bell rang loudly, signaling the end of the period. "What do you have next?" she asked, grabbing his schedule.

"You're with me again," she said happily. "Don't worry; after that, we're not together again until lunch. You'll be rid of me soon."

"Good," he teased.

"So, on to…uh," she checked the schedule again, (Damn, short term memory loss) "science..."

"Let's try to be on time to this class," he suggested, quickening his pace. "Besides, this one isn't so far."

After her sixth class of the day, Rebecca walked slowly down the hallway to her locker to put her stuff away before lunch. So far, her day was good, and she'd even managed to—

"Becky." –managed to avoid Anthony.

"Hi," she said politely, smiling as convincingly as she could before turning back to shut and lock her locker.

"How was your summer?" asked Anthony, trying way too hard to keep his tone pleasant.

"Good, and France? How was it?"

"Excellent," he said, raising his eyebrow at the boy who walked up behind them. "Who're you?" he asked.

"This," said Rebecca, pointing to her new friend, "is Daniel. He's my friend."

"Oh, I get it. He's new." he said, waving good-bye.

"I told you, it's fine," said Marco, rolling his eyes. "I'm not, you know, moving buildings, babe."

"Still, I worry about you, you know?" said Dylan, concerned, shifting the phone from his right ear to his left. "And hockey season…games all the time…I just have a lot to do, and I don't want to leave you to deal with this."

"Dylan," Marco tried to stay calm. "We can talk about this when I get home. I'm three months pregnant, but I'm not dying."

"You get up at four-thirty just to vomit for an hour, though. Marco," said Dylan, sighing, "you actually plan your whole schedule based on when you're going to get sick."

"I'm a planner, you know that," said Marco. For the first time in three months, the pregnancy was okay with him. He was feeling quite all right, and all of a sudden, Dylan was calling every few minutes to check up on him at work.

"I feel fine," he said again, more sweetly. "I love you, okay?"

"Yes, I know, but Ma—"

"Dyl, stop. I have to go," he laughed. "Bye."

"Bye."

Marco got up to stand, grabbing his side in pain. He was fine just before he hung up! It wasn't a big deal, just a slight pain in the side. He took a deep breath. "I'm all right," he told himself, and the pain subsided after a few minutes.

He picked up his scheduled times for meetings. He had a few minutes to rest, and he was sure the pain would be back within a few minutes.

"So, who was that guy?" asked Daniel, sitting down across from Rebecca at a lunch table.

"Just the guy who made last year my living hell," she said. Daniel was going to question, but he realized it wasn't a topic Rebecca wanted to pursue.

"So, I don't have too many friends anymore, as you can see," she said, picking at her salad crossly. "It's mostly because of that jackass."

Daniel wasn't really sure what to say. "I'm sorry," he said. "Can I ask why?"

"There are many reasons," she said vaguely. "So, you never got to finish your complaints about your parents," she said, changing the subject.

"I'm not really desiring to," he said, taking a bite of pizza. "I'm just annoyed because, like, even though he and I didn't get along, I miss my dad. I love my mother, but sometimes I wish she'd jump off a cliff. She's just so obsessive."

"You shouldn't say things like that," said Rebecca, looking up. "I never knew my mom."

Daniel looked up from his food as well, his eyes shining with regret. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Sometimes…you just say things like that, not even thinking, but…I didn't…I'm sorry," he stammered.

Rebecca took pity on him. "It's okay," she assured him. "Like you said or…almost said," she laughed, "you didn't know, and I never knew her anyway."

Daniel smiled again, looking slightly less guilty. "Really, though, I'm sorry."

She waved his apology off. "So, I have a question for you," she said, getting up from the table, "is this skirt too short?"

Daniel laughed. "Wouldn't you ask that question before you came in with it?"

"Well, I think it's perfectly fine, but my Uncle apparently thinks not," she said. "So?"

"It's fine," he said.

"Don't lie," she demanded, sitting back down due to the fact that people started to wonder why she was standing in the middle of the aisle.

"It's fine, really. I don't know," he said uncomfortably.

"So, if you don't mind my asking," Daniel asked a little while later, "how did your mother die?"

Rebecca sighed. "When I'm finally told, I'll let you know."

Author's Note: Please review :)