A/N: I really don't know if I'm going to continue this because I already have 9 stories to worry about but I really want to write this story so if it's a mistake it'll be the perfect mistake.
I sighed as I walked through the halls of Degrassi, it has been a month since my ex girlfriend Katie went into rehab. For pill popping, she hasn't escaped yet. Gladly, sweet serendipty.
Something changed about Katie, she used to be so laid back, so non-attention needing. Before she left for rehab she was obsessive, she begged for attention, she was jealous, self conscience, and everything else a guy isn't looking for.
She ruined her life, not anyone else. That was all her. It all started when I offered her to go somewhere with Bianca because I thought it'd help them get along better. While Katie was at the club she Over Dosed. I blamed it on Bianca which was the stupidest thing I had ever done.
I truly loved Bianca, she didn't believe me. No matter how much I tried, she'd blow me off because she thought I still had feelings for Katie. Which I didn't, how could one simply still be in love with a physcho that was actually once normal? I was not that guy.
Bianca still lived with me, she barely made eye contact with me. Though we communicated, rarely. I felt like she was holding back, or either I was holding back. Someone was holding back.
Everything was better at Degrassi now, new people, which meant new groups, which led down to different additude. I could sense the changes already.
No more Ali and Dave drama, though we still had Eli and Clare who clearly couldn't make up which relationship level they wanted to pause on.
Other than the stupid flaws that needed to change but got used to, the year was starting out great.
My intense thoughts were interrupted by the loud, needed to be replaced intercom. "Hello Degrassi students, some of you know the rules, and some of you don't. As attendence to new comers and second yearers. No throwing balls in the school, running or playing inside, make sure your uniform is school coded, no sagging pants or unsolid sweaters or polo's, have a nice school year."
Since I've heard it all before, all I heard was "Blah, Blah, Blah, Have a nice school year."
None of the new or old girls caught my eye, all I could think abut was Bianca, it was like my eyes muted everything else in sight and automatically got set for her. She was like a drug.
My drug.