I don't own Degrassi. I just like to play with their characters.
1.
"This outfit makes me look fat," I stated, turning to look at my butt in the full-length mirror. "And I may very well kill myself trying to walk in these boots." The boots were gorgeous, knee-high tan suede with 4-inch wedge heels, but to a girl who often tripped while wearing sneakers, they were a death trap.
A dark head appeared in the door frame. "You look fantastic," Alli Bandhari assured me. "Besides, I intend for you to have at least one alcohol-related fall by the end of the night. Would you just chill? I so do not need you to ruin this party for me." Alli disappeared into the bathroom, where she had been for the last hour, working on makeup and hair.
"Chill? Are you serious?" I muttered, flopping down onto my bed. My son was spending the night with his deadbeat father, I had a twenty-page paper due Monday that I hadn't even started and the laundry was piled so high that it was overflowing the basket. To top it off, I was about to see my high school sweetheart for the first time in, oh, 8 years or so. I must have been temporarily delirious when I agreed to a night out.
"Hey, is Jenna here yet?" My apartment was so small that Alli didn't even have to shout for me to hear her.
"You would have heard her," I pointed out, hopping up and walking to the bathroom door.
Alli waved her mascara wand around dramatically, coming dangerously close to leaving a black streak across my face. "That girl needs to get it together. She's always late. I'm going to buy her a watch for her birthday."
The truth of the matter was this: Alli is notorious for being late or not showing at all, but I would never say so, because Alli and Jenna are pretty much my only friends. The three of us have very little in common these days, but the bonds made during teenage years tend to stick, I guess. Between Alli's oh-so-important magazine editor career, Jenna's 3 kids and my juggling act of school, work and being a single mom, we hardly see each other. But every time we're together, it's like we've never been apart. I've never decided if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
"You know what? Why don't I text her?" I volunteered. "I'll step outside and make sure she finds the place okay. She wasn't a hundred percent sure she knew where I live."
Alli glared at me. "Bullshit. You're dying to go smoke a cigarette, aren't you? Are you trying to get lung cancer or what?"
I rolled my eyes. "You should talk, Little Miss Alcoholic. Do you think liver failure is any better? I'm going to go smoke. Have another beer and finish your makeup. If Jenna's not here in ten minutes, we'll leave without her, okay?"
"Fine." Alli was pouting, but I couldn't tell if that was for dramatic effect or optimal lip gloss application. "I'm almost done."
"Great." I walked down the hall.
"Clare?"
"What?" I turned my head to look at her.
"I'm sorry. I love you, and it sucks that you're so unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy, Alli. I miss my son, I'm stressed about school, I have 5 million things to do and I really don't want to see Eli. But I'm not unhappy." I attempted a smile, but the look on Alli's face told me that it wasn't working. "I'll be back in a few."
Shutting the front door on that conversation felt a lot like relief. I lit my cigarette, feeling the tension flow out of my body at the first taste of smoke, before dashing off a quick text to Jenna to find out where she was. I sat on the stoop, letting all my worries go for a moment so I could enjoy the beautiful late spring weather. It was almost 10 p.m., but it was the perfect temperature for short sleeves and jeans. After a few minutes, I crushed my cigarette in the ashtray I keep on the windowsill and stood to go inside.
I stopped when I saw the red minivan flying into the parking lot and squealing to a stop in a parking space. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jenna Middleton was screeching as she jumped out of the driver's side. She ran toward me, blond hair streaming behind her. "The babysitter was late and then Mikey threw a fit about me leaving, and then I got lost." She was panting by the time she reached me. "So sorry! But hey, you look great!" She threw her arms around me for a brief second before asking, "How pissed is Alli?"
I shrugged. "She'll get over it. She's finishing up her makeup right now, so we should be about ready to go." I opened the door, gesturing for Jenna to go in.
Alli came out of the kitchen, bottle in hand, as we entered the living room. "It's about time," she snapped at Jenna, cutting off the impending apology. "Can we go now? The party started an hour ago!" She picked up her purse and stomped to the door, flipping her hair.
I rolled my eyes at Jenna as I picked up my own purse. "Who's driving?"
"I am, obviously," Alli said.
"Forget liver failure; you're going to go to jail for drunk driving, if you don't kill yourself first." That comment earned me the Bandhari death glare.
"You know," Jenna pointed out diplomatically, "I could drive. I haven't had anything to drink, and there's plenty of room in the van."
"I'll drive," I interrupted, knowing Alli would throw a fit at the suggestion of riding in a minivan. "Let's just go."
Alli immediately forgot her little temper tantrum. She and Jenna were chattering away about the guest list at the party as we piled into my car.
"…can't believe Adam and Drew are throwing a party…"
"…heard that Connor flew in from Switzerland on his private jet!"
"I better not….Bianca or Owen…fuck that."
Their enthusiastic chatter went in one ear and out the other as I focused on the road. There was only one name that concerned me, the one guy I never got over, the single most influential person of my entire childhood: Eli Goldsworthy.
