Hey guys! I'm back with my second story and I feel great about it! It's going to be chapter based and I plan on uploading a new chapter every 3-4 days. I wanted to try a new approach to some of the stories revolving around Fitz, so I hope you like it. The first chapter will be a bit slow, but I promise that it will get better. Comments and critiques area always welcome!

DISCLAIMER: I own a cell phone, a laptop, and Softlips Chapstick, but, alas, no Degrassi.

They didn't get it. No one did. To them, all I ever am is a bully; a loser who enjoys making people feel weak. And to be fair, it's somewhat true. I don't mean it, not exactly. It's just something I do; an impulse of habit. There's a rush I get when I face someone shrink away in fear- It's the adrenaline pumping; the exhilaration. I finally have control. I can finally say I've conquered something and that I'm the one holding the victory. But, it's when I face someone who doesn't just submit that I feel the real high. It's the challenge.

"Fitzgerald, Mark?"My name was called and reluctantly I stood up from my seat and headed over to the main desk. The woman looked up at me through thin, wire-framed glasses and it was that look of sheer disappointment that made me sneer in disgust, "Your Learning Coach will be in room 204 after school. Can you confirm the subjects you need help in?" Her tone was mostly blank, cold and uninterested; the slight chill of an attitude was barely audible to anyone who wasn't experienced with disappointment. But I heard it. I always hear it. She was just a librarian; but because I wasn't one of her precious books, all I was to her was trash. Though, that's not entirely true. I've seen the librarians talk to kids before and they always have this neat and tidy, picture-perfect image. So nice and helpful… Maybe it was only me who was trash.

Learning Coach. It's as if they think putting a fancy new name on the word "tutor" will make the kid feel any better about themselves. "Yeah, pretty much everything," I shot back. Though, when she looked up from her sheet, arms crossed over her chest, I caved, "but, uh, Algebra really. And Chem."

This is why I hated school so much. It was people like the librarian, someone so stupid and pointless, who made me feel inferior just by giving me a look. I can't fight a teacher. I can't show my strengths and prove to them that I'm more than just some kid failing classes. I can't be anything more to them than a disappointment. But that's how my life goes I guess; one disappointment after another.

"Right…"she said, looking down at her sheet again, "it'll be up to you two to decide what the schedule will be. However, your Learning Coach will be checking in to tell us of the progress." There was that look again; the look that said, "So we'll be checking in to make sure you actually show up." Do they honestly think I would skip? It's not like I want to fail and stay in this Hell-hole for the rest of my life.

I nodded slowly, "Yeah, ok." I honestly just wanted to get out of here. I have one lunch period out of the whole day, and I really didn't want to waste it in the library talking to some old hag about how I don't fit her expectations. Glaring at her, I took the tutor slip, signed my name, and walked out in a huff. I need to de-stress from all of this. I needed to find a way out. I needed a cigarette.

I walked briskly down the hall, the tension building in my body as the thought of sweet nicotine swelled in my head. It was a bad habit, I know, but it was the only thing that really worked to calm my edge. I started when I was 15; just some punk kid trying to act tough by paling around with Johnny DiMarco and Bruce the Moose. I remember the day I started—we were all hanging out at the Ravine and they were all bagging on me for being straightedge. I tried to act cool, telling them that the opportunity just never came along but they wouldn't take that:

"No opportunity?" Bruce laughed and slugged him in the shoulder, "Good thing you met us Fitzy-boy!" He pulled out a pack of Camels and shook the cigarette out of the box, "Come on, let's freshen up those baby lungs of yours."

Fitz looked warily at the box, took the cig, rolled it between his fingers and lifted it up to his nose to take a sniff. He glanced over at Johnny who sat reading a book, and wondered if this was the make or break moment. Would he make fun of him? Tell him he was a wimp and never speak to Fitz again? Glancing up from his current chapter, Johnny rose and eyebrow at Fitz, "What's it gonna be, niner?"

Fitz's eyes narrowed in determination and extended his hand to Bruce in an awkward attempt to stay cool, "Give me the goddamn lighter…"

Just thinking about it made that addictive itch flare up in protest. I needed one, now. It bugged me how much something so stupid like a cigarette would get such a rise; but, I've always had trouble with things like that. I don't have patience for anything. Looking at my cell phone quickly, I sighed when I realized the time, "Fifteen minutes left; damn bitch had me in there almost the whole period…" Immediately I began rushing down the hall towards one of the side entrances that led to the parking lot. I knew where my next smoke would be.

As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by the brilliant sting of sunlight and the slight scent of piss and garbage behind the dumpster. Looking around, I spotted a familiar face and the even more familiar smell. "Yo, Bee! Hit me up, alright?" I walked over to her and was greeted with a mixture between a sneer and a smirk.

"After you ditched us today at lunch? Yeah, I don't think so." She leaned up against the side of the building, taking a long drag from a cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. Damn, I was not in the mood to deal with this…

"Come on. I had to deal with some shit…" She looked at me with a raised eyebrow that said my sad excuse was lacking. I sighed to myself and ran a hand through my hair, "Come on, Bee. I'm not in the mood right now."

She squished the cigarette bud with the heel of her boot as she began walking towards the door. I was really getting annoyed with this. Pulling at my sweatshirt sleeves, I was surprised when she turned around and tossed me a box. Picking it up from my feet, I saw a half filled carton of Camels, "Don't say I never did anything for you." And just like that, she disappeared through the door.

I had enough time to go through one and a half cigs before the bell rang. As I walked down the hall toward the art wing, I saw Eli traveling in the opposite direction smiling stupidly to himself as he looked down at his cell phone. God, I hated that kid. He's such a sarcastic freak who thinks he can get anything he wants by brooding like an emo.

I couldn't help it. It was impulse. My hand went out like lightening and slapped his phone to the ground. I watched it skid across the floor and smirked to myself as it broke into three pieces, "No cell phones in school. Eli I thought you knew that?" The sarcastic innocence was dripping from my voice and the sheer anger on his face made me feel 10 times better.

"What the hell?" His jaw locked as he took a step forward and looked up with a scowl. "Go pick it up."

"Or what , short-stuff?" My eyes narrowed and my smirk grew into a grin, "You gonna hit me or something? Go ahead, I dare ya." I shoved him in the chest and he fell back against the wall of lockers behind him, "Or are you gonna talk shit and walk away—just like when I broke your precious hearse."

This was priceless. Here Eli was, red in the face, staring up at me with the intent to kill. But the thing was, I knew he didn't have the balls to do it. That's the difference between me and him. He had things to lose. He knew if we fought, his little crew would try and get back at me. Eli wouldn't want his little sidekick or girlfriend to get messed with, now would he? So, he sucked it up. However, his sarcasm made it twice as fun. He's someone who's going to be fun to break.

"Go fuck yourself, Fitz" There it was, the submission. Yet, the wit made it twice as entertaining. I watched him trudge off, picking up the pieces of his cell phone, and mumbling to himself about something or another.

My mood was immediately uplifted. I almost didn't care about the tutoring after school. As I sauntered off to art class, I almost had a spring in my step at the idea of ruining Eli's day. It's not that I'm seriously out to get him. He just annoys me. I wanted him to feel just as bad as he made me feel sometimes…

Art class was slow. I pretty much spent the entire time drawing doodles in pen and ignoring the slide show on Renaissance paintings. I have to admit, art was pretty cool. I get to spend an entire class drawing whatever the hell I want. Usually I do pen work; drawing designs and cartoons of funny things I saw or whatever I thought was cool. Right now I was penning something I thought of in the computer lab. It's a tree with circuits for bark. It was kind of cool because it was growing light bulbs.

"Mark!" My head shot up from my paper and I tried to prepare an excuse before I got in too much trouble. "That's amazingly bold!" Ms. Dawes was looking over my shoulder at the paper and I looked up sheepishly with a grin.

"I… uh, thanks. It's just a stupid little doodle." I looked down at the paper and narrowed my gaze, "I messed up a few times with the circuits. I wanted to make it look like a tree growing light bulbs. It's kind of stupid I guess."

"No, no! Not at all. I love the balance between nature and technology. The pen work is very modern." She placed her hand on my shoulder and looked down at me with a smile, "Keep up the good work. I expect to see the finished product."

It would be an understatement to say I was feeling good. I was finally getting recognition for something other than beating up some kid. I… did something good. A huge grin spread across my face and I felt a new type of determination as I looked down at my drawing. I worked diligently till the end of class.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. History and Chem was boring, but at least I got to work on my sketch during the dull parts. I almost was cheerful as I walked down the hall heading to room 204 where my tutor would be. However, all that changed the second I stepped through the door.

She was sitting at a desk staring intently at two different papers, clearly oblivious to my entrance. Another desk was dragged up next to her, obviously for me, and she seemed so prepared for a perfect afternoon of tutoring. Too bad it was with me.

"Clare?"

Oh snap! A cliffhanger in the first chapter? Tehee, this will be a fun fic to write! Comments? Suggestions? Critiques? Go right ahead! I love them all 3