Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi: The Next Generation, if I did Sean never would have left or dated Ellie and Darcy would fall off a cliff (sorry I can't stand both Ellie and Darcy...they annoy the hell out of me), there definetly would have been a major Sean, Emma, Jay love triangle thing happening and Manny wouldn't have gotten an abortion. But...sadly...I don't own it. This disclaimer is for the whole story because I am too damn lazy to re-write one for each chapter.

Author's Note: I have changed some things in this story. I was reading over everything and decided that it seemed like there were a few holes and loose-ends that needed tying...besides...I was kind of feeling like it needed to be ended where I was at and I definetly am not ready to end it. So...I'm changing things around so that the ending does not come for a loooooong time yet :) Hope you like the changes. Please review review review and let me know what you think:) Oh and Merry Christmas everyone!

There will be more changed than just this chapter, but I'm using my boyfriend's computer and he needs to get on soon, I might have time to do the next chapter...but I'm not sure. So if not I will most likely have all the revisions up after Christmas.

Jay

I have had some pretty lame homework assignments, but I must say that this is, by far, the lamest.

Why am I doing it, then, you ask? Well, thats simple. It's this or my sorry ass gets shipped off to military school. I think I prefer suffering through a few stupid classes and some homework, rather than five AM wake up calls, push-ups and no girls, thank you very much. I can already hear the wheels turning in your head, I know exactly what you're thinking, how can JAY HOGART afford military school?

Ha!

I'm filthy, stinking rich, or my parents are anways. Bet you didn't see that one coming. What did you all think I pulled the civic out of my ass? Pretty little car like that doesn't just appear one day out of thin air. Lucky for me, people around this town ain't that smart. Only person who knows I'm not some trailer trash punk is Alex. And the only reason for that is because I'd let her come crash at my place when Chad got a little too grab happy with her or decided it would be fun to use her for a punching bag instead of her mom. Amy, her (then) best friend, wasn't exactly someone she could run to in those situations seeing as her dad was pretty much exactly like Chad. Her only choice left to turn to was lucky old me.

Anyways, though, I don't tell anyone about the money bags thing because I'd rather not have them all say shit like, "Oh, that's that Jay Hogart boy. The poor thing goes around acting like a badass as a sorry attempt to get his parents' attention. Poor little rich kid." Which would soon be followed by a slow shake of the head in pity.

Fuck that. I'll tell you where you can put your pity.

Well, it's not far from the truth, but I really don't do well with sympath as you may already know.

If anyone knew that up until I was about twelve I was a parent's wet dream, they'd probably laugh their ass off. Prolly wouldn't believe me anyways.

Jay Hogart actually got straight A's?

Jay Hogart never got into any trouble?

Jay Hogart was a polo-shirt, pressed pants, brown penny-loafers wearing nerd?

Yeah, they'd laugh their pants right off.

So, why the drastic change from goody two shoes to rebel? Like you haven't guessed it already.

I was always a good kid, kept my nose clean, so to speak. I did everything I was supposed to, always did the right thing and what did I get for it? Nothing. None of it ever mattered to them. I never mattered to them. I was lucky if I got a few words out of either one of my parents on a daily basis. Usually, even then, it would be, "dinner's read Jason" or "time for bed Jason", when they were home anyways. I think I spent more time with a baby-sitter until I was ten than I did with my own parents. When I hit ten I was on my own. I learned how to call out for pizza deliveries real quick. Everyone always wonders why I rarely eat pizza, can't really stand the stuff anymore, too much of it as a kid.

I don't give a fuck that their doctors and off helping everyone. I'm their kid, dammit, I should come first. They go off and help anyone who needs it...but when it comes to their own son they couldn't be bothered.

I wanted more.

It started off with little things, you know? A missed homework assignment here, late curfew there. I ditched the nerd clothes and started wearing baggy jeans and backwards hats. I ditched the chess loving nerds and started proving myself to the bullies, the "cool" kids. I figured they had to notice, right? Yeah sure. They still didn't care, didn't even care enough to punish me. So, I started getting into fights at school...then they were forced to notice. Trust me...my dad was more than pissed when he had to come out to the perfect little private school and explain, repeatedly, to the headmaster why I shouldn't be suspended yet again.

Making a long story a short, the private school get fed up and kicked me out.

Looking back now I realize that I should have seen it then, that it didn't matter how bad I was they still wouldn't care. I should have known that it would never matter to them when they didn't ground me for the rest of my natural born days after I got expelled. Guess I've always been a bit of a persistent little shit. Or maybe by then I wasn't pretending anymore. I wasn't the good little boy who always did the right thing anymore. I was the asshole, the kid your parents warn you to stay away from and it fit. It still fits.

Anyhow, me getting kicked out is what landed me at Degrassi. It's how I met Alex, Towerz, the Montreal Crew, and Sean. It's how I started over, completely. Everyone viewed me as some welfare case, like Sean. I was just some kid that no one cared enough about...that's the only thing they got right when they label me.

So there you have it: Jay Hogart in a nutshell. My second biggest secret. Bet you'd just love to know my biggest secret. Well, bummer times for you because that's something I'm never telling, not even to a worthless peice of paper.

Emma

Everyone has secrets. Some are bigger than others. I doubt anyone thinks I have secrets. A million little peices of myself that no one ever sees, that no one ever looks close enough to see. I'm Cause Girl, Green Peace, Little Miss Saves the Whales. Why should anyone look closer? To do so would shatter the perfect image that they all have of me. So much safer to look at the hazy picture from a difference rather than look up close to reveal all the little imperfect details. Sure, when the Jay thing happened I wasn't Cause Girl anymore. No, I was Ravine Girl then...Gonnorhea Girl or Jay's Slut. It didn't take long, though, before it was back to Green Peace, before my indiscretion was forgotten by most. No one wants to think that "perfect" Emma Nelson isn't so damn perfect.

We see what we want to see. So they see the straight A's and the supposed virtue, but there's so much more to me than that. But why challenge it? Titles are all we have, without them we are stripped bare for all to see. All of our defenses are gone when the title disappears, we're open to all the pain and hurt that is brought along with revealing who you truly are. Titles define how others see us and how we see ourselves.

There has been only one person who has looked past the layers I put up and I was found wanting. I was found to be not good enough, a joke to be laughed at. He took what he knew and threw it back in my face. I'll keep my title, thank you very much. I'd rather they all see me for who I am not and love me, than see me for who I am and hate me. If that makes me a coward than so be it, I'm tired of being brave.

So what is it I'm supposed to be writing about? Oh, thats right.

Oh, the poor dolphins.

Oh, the poor rain forest.

Oh, the poor starving children of Africa.

Happy now?