Author's Notes: recommended listening for this: "Tangled" by Maroon 5.

I got the idea for this story one day while reading a thread at a message board discussing unconventional couples. I mentioned that I liked Craig/Emma, and that I would have rather liked an Ashley/Craig/Emma triangle in season three. So I thought about that idea quite a bit, and the idea of it kept coming back to me over and over. And I decided that I might as well give it a shot. Why not?

This story is an AU, meaning alternate universe. Basically, all of the events from season three (and maybe later seasons) are totally different than what happened on the show. Oh, certain things will still be there (most likely everything up until "Should I Stay or Should I Go?"), but after that nothing will be as it was on the show. Also, I'm thinking of writing this with alternating narration—this chapter's told by Emma, the next one might be by Craig or Ashley, something like that. Do you get it? g

As always: Degrassi and the characters of are not mine. I hope you enjoy.

---------

"Mi casa es su casa."

Maybe that's when it started. I can't really be sure. All I know is that after his attempt to run away, I'd said that to him. It might have even been when I came over to watch Angie once, or when Joey dropped Angie off at our house and Craig came with them. I figured that he might like—or want—some company sometimes. It was meant as an open invitation, considering the history between Mom and Dad and Joey. He was the son of an old family friend, and I was obliged to be nice to him. And hey, it didn't hurt that he wasn't that bad to look at either.

There was no real potential for anything between us, and I knew it. He'd asked Manny to dance, and she'd taken him up on the offer. I was upset for a while, but I brushed it off. At least Sean was still there, right? I had that much. Even though we were constantly on and off, he was there and he showed interest. I'd known Sean longer. I could still be just friends with Craig. Mi casa es su casa, after all.

He took me up on that a few times. We didn't hang out in the same way that Manny and I did, of course, and we didn't hang out in the same way that Sean and I did. We kept a friendly distance most of the time, sitting and watching some stupid reality show on TV or something. Once, when Joey came over for some party, Dad (I was still calling him Snake at the time), they'd broken out board games, leaving Craig and I with Scrabble. We ended up playing an extremely laid-back version, using proper nouns and acronyms. When I'd spelled out PETA, he laughed. "That's definitely something you'd put down."

We were getting to know each other a little. He had his photography and his music, and I had my environmentalism. He could be shy with his art sometimes, and for a while he carried his camera around like it was a security blanket. He didn't seem to be able to function without it. He always shot in black and white, explaining that it was easier to develop. "We didn't learn how to process color film in class," he said. But more and more, I began to see him with a guitar, aimlessly strumming a few chords.

Maybe that's what brought Ashley to him. She loved music, he loved music. That's silly for me to say—a lot of couples don't even have mutual interests, and they're drawn to each other. That could've been a factor. You could add the fact that Ashley was smart and a little deeper than some of the other girls at school, that she had managed to become her own person because of what had happened at that party, and Craig might have liked that she was an individual. Well, as much as an individual that anyone can be in high school. The beginning of their relationship was gradual, almost undetectable to a casual observer. But as I looked on, I saw everything. The former popular girl gone social outcast plus the moody, artistic new guy. A perfect match.

Where do I come in, you ask? What do I have to do with any of this? Plenty. But I don't know if it's honestly all my fault. It takes two to tango, so despite what anyone says, I'm not completely at fault. This isn't my way of saying that it's all his fault either. We're all to blame at one point or another, and all of us need to tell our stories so that whatever we hold to be true can be examined and condensed to later form a universal truth.