Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

When I see you for the first time since the summer, we're in school and I can barely open up my eyelids. I had tried to sleep the night before, but I had just changed my medication and I knew that I'd see you the following day. Even after all this time…I get nervous with you around.

Anyway, so I see you from a distance and you look like you did before, only better because you seem happy. I know you're happy because you are being rather quiet and thoughtful, and that's how you were when I first met you. You're at your locker and somehow, even though it's the first day of school, you're putting at least five binders in your locker. I'm staring and I can't look away. Maybe it's because you look really nice in red or maybe it's because I can somehow smell your perfume, I'm not totally sure, because maybe it's just you in general. As I watch you, people bump into me and mutter rather rude things to me, but it makes no difference, because you, Clare Edwards, are putting away your books.

The final bell rings and I can see your angst. Students are running into homeroom and you are fighting with your binders that just don't want to cooperate. It's funny because you don't notice me. It's funny because I notice you. It's also funny because I always notice you.

So, there I am, a couple of feet away from you. And I'm about to walk away, to give you space- because I know that you probably don't want to see me- when I see a book in your arms. Romeo and Juliet. It's not my favorite book, but it meant something to us at one point.

"They could share a final kiss."

We had agreed on that kiss six months ago, when we were six months younger and six months wiser. You kissed me, and it was then that everything untangled and fell into a simple but complicated rope. To be honest, we were two kids who were messing around, but still wanted the same thing. I think we wanted a promise, or something of that sort. We wanted someone to tell us that we could get through it. And I guess that's what we were to each other. And we did. We got through it, I mean. Somehow.

I cough. Out of all the things to do, I cough. I can't help it, the air is dry and the medication is still messing with my mouth and throat. Still, out of everything that could happen, I cough. Very inconvenient. But it's like an old cartoon, because you jump, and your binder tumbles down on your foot. I step closer to help you, like you once helped me.

When we're closer together, you look wiser and I wonder what I look like, medicated and all. I hope I look handsome and witty, but I'm not sure if that's possible. We smile at each other and I pick up your binder and put it into your locker. It stays and it's a funny and ironic moment. We don't make small talk, and we don't even try to, because not only is that fake, but it's just not us. But you do giggle nervously and my heart pounds, and we're an awkward mess of smiles and memories, but I guess that's us. And I guess that I wouldn't have it any other way.

I say goodbye after that, and we both go our different ways, but I continue to think about you. It still feels so natural and I had shifted with every step you took and we were glowing. Or maybe I am just a boy that was still in love, I don't know. But it doesn't really matter, I don't think, because the only thing that I want is that final kiss that we once agreed on. It was the start of us, that final kiss, and if we're really final, I want to have it. (Only for the novelty of it…of course).

And maybe, with that final kiss, nothing will be final.

A review would be lovely!

Short? Yes, but...that's how it turned out...obviously...