Shades of Gray
The world tries to sharpen the simplest of colors; black and white. Trying to sell them off to the idea of right and wrong. As if there was no middle ground. As if you were up—in the air, floating in what seems to be safe, or down under—as if you can never get up. For if we're organized and settled the world would be safe. Safe of the middle ground, shades of gray. Safe of stepping between good and bad. As if shades of gray is dangerous.
However in Degrassi, shades of gray is all they have.
Prologue:
- The morning
Almost as if in a daze, Claire sat up from her bed. The sun had barely rose much less had a ray of light passing through the sheet of clouds above the Edward's residence. She smoothed out her loosely worn t-shirt and sighed. The cold had escaped through the cracks of her window and into her room. Getting up as if it were nothing, as if she hadn't just awakened was such ease to her.
Claire Edwards lived by such routine, to move by it would be a sin to her. For she would wake up before the sun rose, and sleep before a new day could start. She would go to school with books weighing heavy on her back and an inquisitive mind determined to learn. With the shining cross around her neck, and the bible by her bedside—she was as pure as much as her fifteen year old mind would allow her to be. A mind with such control and detailed sentences, sentences strung with an advanced words. She was proud to be this…this version of a teenager. To be pure.
Claire glanced out her window, the clouds had been a discouraging factor to go to school. However with her mind aside she turned to her clock on the wall, 6:23 AM is read, and with seven minutes to spare, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom—Claire Edwards was on schedule.
ooooooooo
The bathroom door cracked open, steam flowing out of the room and into the hallway of the second floor of the Torres residence. Drew's skin itself was hot—steam flowing off of his body, however evaporating into the cold air of his home. Instantly he began to find his way back into his room. The lack of light did not play to his favor. His fingertips lingered off the wall, the other hand holding onto his towel and his feet following with caution. He was never good with the dark. With a towel loosely hanging just below his hips, he tip toed his way through the hallway of his home, passing his parents room, and passing Adam's room—in which he heard the movement of his sibling. At the end of the hallway he met his room. Skin to wood, he pushed opened his door.
Quickly he turned on the light and closed the door behind him. With slight hope he looked out his window, with faith in the sun to light up his neighborhood. He sighed at the seemingly thickening clouds. Cold weather on a late September day—the promise of a tough football practice awaited him. He shut his blinds and began to make way to his bed, his football uniform laid perfectly before him. With the drop of his towel he was ready to get dressed and start the day.
oooooo
Eye lashes batted against each other as a sweep of mascara lifted from the eyes of Holly J. Green eyes outlined and cheeks rosy. She hadn't flinched an inch as she prepared for another day at school—second in command, however she felt as if she was running Degrassi all on her own. Thoughts of her classmate first in command flashed throughout her mind, however with the purse of her lips and a closer view to the mirror began to close those thoughts away. For Holly J had wired that she was born alone, works alone, and dies alone. Regardless of the push of thoughts against her heavy walls in her mind, she left her morning to be all about her and her surroundings. Sometimes she feared that her surroundings would become her most important priority. She was afraid she wouldn't put herself first at some point in her life. With everything she had in her eighteen year old body—she fought against that.
Holly J sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, front first with the intention to give her hair some volume. Thoughts began to shed as she worked on her appearance. She took a step back from her mirror and rested her hands on her hips. A black and white striped pencil skirt hugging her lower body, and a red v-neck t-shirt tucked inside. With the swift motion of slipping her feet into her heels she was five inches higher. She rolled her shoulders back and blinked—the slight impression that she should change.
"Holly J," the faint tapping against a door, "Are you ready?"
Her mind tore away from her appearance and back onto the books piled up on her computer table. Quickly she grabbed them, her bag, and opened the door. Face to face with her mother.
"Do you need help with those boo-."
"I got it Mom."
And with that the Saint Claire's stepped out of their apartment and into the building's parking lot. Into the car. The Monday morning counting down to start as soon as the key to the ignition was inserted and the engine vibrating to life.
ooooo
"Eli?" A frustrated voice, "Are you even out your house yet?"
Eli gripped the hold of his phone as he fumbled for his keys in his jeans. He had not only woken up late, he had almost lost his keys that morning. He wasn't working on his usual slow paced movement. This morning he had rushed his way out of the shower, into his usual dark fitted jeans and leather jacket. He took an extra couple of minutes to fix the way in which his hair would fall—although, he normally hadn't paid attention of his hair. However, he hadn't caught much sleep the night prior for he had been reading an assignment for his English class. To say the least, he was engulfed in the workings of Claire Edwards.
"Just meet me at the dot okay, Claire?" He spoke into the phone and pressed the End button with his thumb, jamming his car keys into the ignition.
The key turned in Eli's Hearse, the engine purring awake and purring back to sleep. Gripping the steering wheel he turned the key once again, for the third time that morning. He could feel his eyebrows knit in frustration as he noticed it was 7:45 and he still hadn't moved from the Goldsworthy driveway. Never had it mattered to him to leae his house before eight in the morning, even for school, however he seemed to be living underneath Claire's routine. He felt himself grow more and more frustrated as his phone annoyingly rang from his messenger bag in the passenger seat. Once more he turned the key and the engine had lively growled. With a smirk he pulled down the brakes, pushed the gears into drive, and lightly rested his foot on the gas pedal. And with that the car began to move towards school.