Wreck of the Day

Written by Tears of Mercury

Pairing: Jay/Darcy. Yes, I know, way out there and UC, but I love this UC to death and apologize for any OOC behavior on the parts of the leads.

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, or the title of this story, which is borrowed from Anna Nalick, who wrote the song of the same title.

A/N: This story takes place directly after EWAF, so yes, spoilers to all you Canadian fans. I'm going to suggest that if by some odd stroke of luck you actually enjoy this story that you put it on alert, because updates probably won't be that often due to my other multi-chapter project, a plethora of one-shots, and a nasty case of writer's block. I hope that you all enjoy, read, and review.

Chapter One

Oh no, not again. Darcy bolted into the nearest bathroom, flying into the stall closest to the door. She locked herself in and sank to the floor, breathing in deep, unsteady breaths. Tears flowed down her face, despite her nonstop blinking and the hand that stubbornly brushed away each new droplet that left her eyes. A pounding invaded her head and she could feel the skin around her eyes swelling. Involuntary gasps and whimpers started to leave her mouth as she buried her face in her hands. It was useless to fight it; why bother trying so hard? This was the way it had been ever since the whole thing Adams… and the break-up with Spinner.

Darcy wasn't sure exactly how long she'd been in the stall, only certain that British Literature must be well under way. She'd tried pulling herself together and getting up multiple times, but as soon as she got to the sink and saw her reflection she broke down again. Why do girls have such a terrible time feeling better the moment they realize that their outward appearance isn't perfect? She was too exhausted to ponder the answer or try to recall some scripture piece or Bible study conversation that might relate to it. These days the Bible seemed to be the last thing on her mind, and on the rare occasions that she would look to it for answers she only seemed to find more questions. A fresh onslaught of tears came just as the door opened. She pulled herself even more tightly into a ball, somehow convinced that if she made herself smaller than the noises she was making would become softer. Whistling bounced off the walls, and heavy footsteps stopped right in front of her hiding place.

"Look, man, I get that someone just killed your mom and you're trying to fit all five stages of grief in before seventh period, but I really need to go, and you're monopolizing the only stall that isn't out of order." Darcy wasn't sure who the familiar voice belonged to, only that they'd talked before. What she was sure of was that the voice was decidedly not female. Without taking the time to finger through her now-straggly hair or blow her nose she stood up and pushed the door open, not at all prepared for the sight that met her eyes.

"Jay? What are you doing back at Degrassi? And what are you doing in the girls' washroom?" Jay's lips twitched and he cleared his throat. "No, you know what? I don't really care. Just get out," she seethed as soon as she recovered her wits. "The last thing I need is the whole world knowing that captain of the spirit squad and Degrassi's poster girl for hypocrisy is cutting class to hide out in a dingy washroom stall."

"I hate to break it to you princess, but I plan on being around Degrassi for at least another nine months. And if anyone needs to leave, it's you; the washroom that you're hanging around in is actually for guys. Didn't you notice the urinals when you came in?" he inquired, smirking and leaning against the wall.

"I guess I didn't," she whispered, suddenly reduced to tears once again. Of all the people for this to happen in front of… Jay frowned and folded his arms, completely at a loss for a suitable response or for the appropriate actions.

"That wasn't exactly the reaction that I was going for… look, whatever's going on, I'm sure it's not that serious." Darcy's shoulders shook and she leaned against the metal frame, shielding her face from view with her hands. The only person that she'd ever come close to breaking down in front of was her little sister Claire, and crying in front of someone as sarcastic, vulgar, and all-around aggravating as Jay left her feeling much too exposed for comfort. She almost jumped out of her skin when his calloused hand tentatively touched her shoulder. He brought his arm down hastily. "Is this about that internet dude that the police had to drag away from your house?" he asked her, his tone somewhat more gentle.

"No," she answered abruptly, turning away. "It's just like you said; nothing important in the least." The distinct feeling that her heart was being ripped in two left a burning, hollow pain in her chest.

"Okay, so could you please make your way to the nearest little girls' room, then? I did come in here for a reason," he retorted, unfolding his arms long enough to adjust his hat.

"I can't. I don't have a hall pass," she replied, shaking her head. "I assume that you at least got one of those before you skipped out of class? Not," Darcy stressed, "that it would be so shocking if you didn't." For a moment she felt guilty. This was how they usually interacted, though, and the fact that it helped her get her game face back up was just an added bonus. Jay pursed his lips and brought his arm up, leaning so close to Darcy's face that she didn't have any choice but make eye contact with him.

"Look, I don't know if you're so snippy because you missed your little friendship club meeting last week or because it's that time of the month, but you seriously need to chill out and just move along. Unless you feel like sticking around for the show, I'd advise you to be out of here in the next ten seconds." She moved away from the wall in record speed, shooting him a disgusted look before stalking out.

The halls were still empty, and for a moment she considered making the short walk to the nurse's office and complaining of a headache. The front door was too close by and too tempting to pass up, though, and in a matter of seconds she was outside, perched on the front steps and letting the faint breeze pull her hair away from her face. Her embarrassingly over-the-top crying fit had finally receded, but she still couldn't force herself to go back to class. Metal hinges squeaked slightly and she instantly stiffened. It makes perfect sense; the only way that this day could get any worse is Mrs. Hatzilakos calling me to the office and giving me detention.

"I'm not quite sure that I understand; if you're going to skip class without actually leaving school, why sit in plain sight of everyone? Unless, of course, you're begging to be caught."

"How did you know that I would be out here?" she sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat. Jay seemed to have become the proverbial devil on her shoulder over the last year, and while she couldn't say that she enjoyed his company, it was better than dealing with the principal or one of her so-called "Christian" friends.

"Lucky guess," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair, biting her lip and frowning. They had been sitting in an awkward silence for awhile when she decided for reasons that she didn't quite understand to tell him why she was such an emotional train wreck.

"Spinner and I broke up. I posted some stuff on the internet that I shouldn't have and I showed him… and then he found out that I'd let some other guy take the pictures and see them… I ruined everything. God, I was so stupid. What was I thinking? This isn't me. It's not what I do, how I act. I'm just this huge hypocrite now, and the worst part is, I've alienated so many people that there's no one left to help me pick up the pieces." Jay offered her a wry grin.

"It could be worse; you could've given a social disease to half the school and had the wrath of Emma Nelson inflicted on you for it," he pointed out, his lips twitching upwards in satisfaction when she let out a small, shaky laugh.

"I shouldn't find that funny, but I do," she admitted, bringing a hand up to her neck self-consciously. "I just… I wish that they told you first."

"Told you what?"

"That the minute you do what everyone is pressuring you to do, everybody runs in the opposite direction. Who knew?"

"I knew," Jay said, smirking lightly. "And besides, you can't say that everyone runs. I'm still here." Darcy glanced at him, smirking slightly in amusement.

"Okay, so all of the people that matter run for the hills," she corrected.

"You wound me, Mother Theresa," Jay replied. She rolled her eyes and he raised his eyebrows, suddenly having the inexplicable urge to continue goading her until he was lodged under her skin. "Seriously, Darcy, you'll be fine. You aren't the type of girl that shouts about her sex appeal from the rooftops, anyway; and honestly, that suits you. Spinner was an emotional disaster by the time that you guys got together. I'm surprised you two lasted as long as you did."

"Me too," she muttered, twisting a stray lock of hair around her thumb.

"Hey, you'll find someone eventually. Ten years from now you'll be married to some brassy, over-the-top televangelist and I'll see you on my TV every Sunday morning at six." Dimples he hadn't realized she had appeared in her cheeks and she laughed.

"I had no idea that Jay Hogart watched completely fake church services every Sunday."

"Well, I have to get fresh material from somewhere," he responded breezily. They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence for several moments.

"I should be getting back to class. I can't afford to miss anymore school, considering the fact that I've been mentally checking out for the past week and half," Darcy said, rising to her feet slowly and wrapping her arms around her stomach. "It's too bad; it's such a beautiful day."

"Thank the Lord."

"That wasn't up to your usual standards. Maybe you should spend some time working on those Jesus-centric comebacks," she suggested. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder before moving back toward the door.

"Hey, Darcy, why don't we get out of here? I know a couple of places." Jay cringed at his choice of words as soon as he made the offer; he tried to play it off with his usual cocky stance and suggestive half-smile.

"Do you really think that I have that little class?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows.

"That's not what I was getting at," Jay called after her, grinning when she raised her hand in a short, terse goodbye wave while striding toward the door. Darcy allowed herself a small smile as she made her way back towards class just as the bell sounded. She hadn't smiled since it happened, and even though she knew that smiling because of Jay was the definition of irony, she couldn't help feeling the weight momentarily lift from her chest. Right now she was so glad to be feeling something other than guilt or pain that it didn't seem to matter that the person who had gotten her laughing was someone she shouldn't have been talking to in the first place.

-0-0-0-

"The lawn sale was a huge success. They raised over two thousand dollars for the Rwandan refugees. Pastor Clark said that…" Darcy stared down at her plate, moving the food around. For some reason, she couldn't get the earlier conversation with Jay out of her head. Claire had been bothering her and asking what was wrong all afternoon, and instead of her usual irritation, she'd only mustered a weak "Leave me alone, Claire. Nothing's wrong." In truth, Claire had been a saint compared to the way her parents had reacted after the Adams scare. It wasn't that they didn't have a perfectly good reason to be upset, but their guilting and crowding had just made everything worse.

"Darce? What do you think, huh? Do you want to go to that father-daughter banquet the church is having with Claire and me?" her father prodded, snapping her back to attention.

"Sure, dad; that would be great," she agreed by default. She wasn't sure how she would react to seeing the church friends that she'd been avoiding for so long; people were already talking, and coming up with a company line to get her through the evening was the last thing she wanted to waste her time doing. Being fake hadn't gotten her anywhere thus far.

"You should wear that dress that you wore to prom last year with Spinner; it looks really pretty on you, with or without the boyfriend," Claire said. Darcy smiled at the intent of the comment, however unbelievable she found it to be.

"I never liked that Mason boy, anyway. It was a mistake to date someone who wasn't a Christian," Darcy's mom interjected. "I'm sorry that you had to be hurt to learn your lesson, but missionary dating never works." Darcy bristled at the choice of words.

"Mom, I wasn't dating Spinner to "save" him. I dated him because I liked him. We were good together." The argument was greeted with silence, just like objections to what her mother deemed law always were. She pushed the chair away from the table, grabbing her plate and headed towards the kitchen. "I'll be in my room doing homework if anyone else feels the need to critique my dating habits," she muttered before storming towards her room.

Sometimes, you just really need to throw something. This is most definitely one of those times. The first acceptable object that her eyes fell upon was the Good Luck Carebear shoved beneath the corner of what had previously been the computer desk. Spinner had won the stuffed animal for her at a carnival they'd taken Claire to last year sometime during the spring; after the break-up, she'd wanted all reminders of him as far away as possible, but she still couldn't find it in her to stuff it into a corner of her closet. Without a second thought she snatched the bear up and threw it across the room as hard as she could, cringing as it strategically landed on Claire's nightstand and sent a small lamp flying to floor. Ironically, the shriek of the glass as it shattered to pieces calmed her frayed nerves. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, stopping right outside the door.

"Darcy, what happened?" The concerned voice came from her father. He was staring uncertainly at the scene in front of him, concern and anger flashing alternately in his eyes. It took her a few moments to find her voice, but when she did she spoke slowly and almost inaudibly.

"I'm sorry about the mess… I'll pick it up," she apologized. Mr. Edwards sighed and sent her a sympathetic look, walking over to sit on the bed opposite from hers.

"It's just a light bulb, sweetie. And I'm sorry about dinner tonight… you know that your mother is unmovable when she has her mind made up about something."

"So I must've picked up the ability to drive everyone away with my stubbornness and ignorance from her side of the family," Darcy mused, smiling sadly when she saw the furrow in her father's brow. "It's okay, dad… just stupid teenage stuff." The older man reached out and grasped one much smaller hand between both of his own.

"Look, I know that the past few weeks have been difficult for you. Despite what your mother may tell you, no one can ever be perfect. As your dad, though, I happen to think that you come as close as a human being can get." When she started to protest, he held up a hand until she shut her mouth. "Of course you're going to make stupid mistakes. I just hope that you don't think that one failed relationship with a boy who doesn't realize everything that he's missing out on in you is going to make you stop smiling for good."

"Dad, that's really sweet. Thank you… for being here for me. I know that getting laid off has been awful for you, and with everything I've put you through these past couple weeks, it means a lot to me to know that you can still stand to look at me," she confessed.

"Where else would I look? You're the prettiest thing in sight," he replied with wink, standing slowly. "Well, you probably don't want your dear old dad hanging around and depriving you of any privacy your mother's left you with. Feel better soon, honey." He leaned in to kiss her lightly on the forehead and she closed her eyes.

After he left she snapped off the overhead light switch and laid down on her bed, curling onto her side and looking into out the window. Scenes of her relationship with Spinner played out before her eyes: him walking her to the front door after a date and kissing her goodbye; and innocent kiss at the curb in his car that was interrupted by her mother; a tickle war on the front porch when they were supposed to be working on their homework. A tear lodged in the bridge of her nose, and her eyes slid shut when she couldn't take the constant reminders of her first love that surrounded her. Her hand slid out from under the weight of her body, clutching at the sheets. It was only hours later when a tiny, pudgy hand took hold of hers and the mattress groaned to accommodate the weight of a second, much smaller body that she was finally able to get to sleep.