Disclaimer: I don't own; you don't sue. The transcript that I used to base the second flashback occurring in this story on was found here:

A/N: This is a one-shot sequel to Apparitions, because it wrapped up so happily and nicely, and after watching Secrets Part 1 and 2, well – it doesn't seem right for Alex and Jay to have such a pretty ending anymore. Major spoilers to those who haven't seen Secrets.

The Casualties

I feel so fucking stupid, I think furiously for the sixth time this afternoon, feeling as though I'm about to throw up any second. I'm sitting on the cracked tiles of the girls' washroom, heaving, choking...

Gonorrhea. I have an STD. Stupid, fucking Jay. I still want to stab him. Him and Amy with her armful of bracelets, and whoever else he screwed.

- - - - - - -

I sprinted out of the clinic onto the street, my stomach churning. I couldn't look at Jay. I didn't want to look at him.

"Hey, Lexy, what's the matter?" Jay peered at me boredly from where he was leaning against the clinic's wall.

"Don't," I told him. "Don't touch me -"

He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. "What is it? What did you find out? Are you pregnant, or something?" He chuckled, laughing at his own lame joke, trying to lift away the tension.

I shook my head, disbelieving of it all. This wasn't happening to me...

"Gonorrhea." I said flatly and threw his hand of my arm as I continued to speed-walk to school. "You gave me an STD, Jay. An STD."

He made a slight choking sound as he followed me. "An – a what?"

I stopped suddenly, turning to face him. "Gonorrhea." I drew it out slowly and deliberately. "It might cause arthritis, heart disease, or infertility! God, Jay, how could you give me a disease?"

His eyes bulged. "I didn't give it to you- I - who have you been screwing around with?"

We were nearing the school now. "No one but you, asshole," I said truthfully.

He made a strange 'pssh' sound and gave me the Eye. "I don't believe that. I mean, I've been fucking around at the ravine with Amy and -"

He stopped suddenly, his clear blue eyes widening. I felt a fist squeeze my heart tightly. There was a painful burn in my stomach as I stepped closer to him, my face close enough to spit in his eyes, "You start talking right now."

- - - - - - -

The floor feels cold and damp from where I sit. My throat is aching and I just want to die right now. Welcome to a lifetime of pain, Alex. An STD, no boyfriend, no best friend –

Obviously, I can't depend on anyone. My boyfriend screwing with my best friend. My best friend screwing with my boyfriend. Jay and Amy. Amy and Jay. It was a nauseous thought and my mind can't process it at all.

- - - - - - -

I raced into the auditorium, interrupting the dress rehearsal. I was so going to kill someone.

"Lexy!" Jay was yelling. I was surprised he had the guts to follow me. But he was probably looking out for his Precious-Amy."It was nothing! Come on!"

"Lexy is late for her scene!" JT stood up and mimicked Jay's usage of my name.

As if I even cared about the fucking play. And out of nowhere,thirty minutes of pent-up anger and hurt flew out of me and I was screaming.

"You want a scene JT? Hey, best-firne-Amy, let's give JT a scene!" I hit her in the face so that her eyes squeezed shut from the impact, head snapped back. Jay made an interrupting noise, but I cut over him.

"Tell me about the ravine, Amy! About how you went down on my boyfriend, Amy, and the bracelets you got for it!" I couldn't breathe; I could hardly make out her hideous face because tears were obscuring my vision; I was the butt of an ugly betrayal and I thought I might die of fury.

Amy had the nerve to even look at me. Her eyes were shiny and she looked so pathetic that I wanted to smack her again, harder. "I didn't sleep with him," she said, her twenty-or-so bracelets sliding down her arm in full view.

Emma shifted beside her, looking uncomfortable. Fucking tree-lover. I bet she can't talk about sex without giggling, I thought bitterly, venting some of my anger mentally towards her.

I focused on Amy now. "By whose definition?"

I felt a hand on my wrist and Jay was gingerly tugging me away as though I was about to explode at any second. "Let's step outside, Alex," he said, giving me what he evidently thought was a reassuring smile.

I shook his hand off, staring at him with cold fury. "D-don't touch me. Don't talk to me – I'll deck yoursmug face, too."

- - - - - - -

I'm still not sure why I picked the washroom as a place to hide out. But the only people still in the school are at the play – maybe I knew that no one would bother searching for me.

Poor Alex, probably jumped off a bridge already, Amy would say as she would duck into Jay's van for the thousandth time.

Finally? Jay would smile back, giving her the lazy-blue-eyed stare he usually gave me.

It was so ironic that only last week I had this reverie; this apparition that Jay and I were meant to be together. I loved him, I thought he loved me – I was wrong, obviously.

I can sense it, I remember thinking in his busted old car. He loves me.

What a joke. He was screwing around with Amy then, anyway. And probably six other people. It's so stupid, too, how I was chastising Amy about the thirty bucks she ripped off of me this morning. $30 don't seem like such a big deal now. Not after finding out that I have a social disease. Not after Jay and Amy.

There's a pain in my chest, throbbing and ramming. I think my heart is trying to break itself.

My stomach flips again, and this time I can't take it anymore. I crawl into the nearest stall, my knees wet from water on the floor, and retch. It's an awful, torturous sound that rings in my ears, and it feels like I'm throwing up my feelings, my fury; not just whatever I had for breakfast. I swipe at my mouth and my torso sways woozily.

The washroom door suddenly swings open and the first thing I see before shutting the door of my stall is a swollen face, bruised purple and grey. The little whore. Amy.

"Alex? You in there?" She stops in front of my stall. "Look, you're my best friend and I would never hurt you intentionally, but Jay came up to me last month and – well, you know. Don't forget, I have gonorrhea, too."

And that makes everything so much better, bitch. You're the one who spread it around, I think sourly as I let her ramble on about the preciousness of our friendship and how we must work, together, to salvage it. She is such a phony. As if I didn't see that best-friend-movie when I was 10 with her. She sucks the words right out of the movie, the sickeningly sweet sap accompanying it.

I can't take it anymore. Somehow, I manage to heave myself up from the heap on the floor and flush the toilet with my foot, momentarily drowning out her pretentiousness.

"...and so, I know I was a total bitch and I'm really sorry; I've talked to Jay and he's sorry too -"

I get out of the stall, hitting her with the door. "Don't talk to Jay," I said, glaring at her. "Don't talk to him, don't touch him – don't go near him."

She is cradling her face, giving me a look of hurt. "Of course not,Alex -"

"And don't say my name. It makes me want to throw up to know that you're even fucking talking to me. Just..." I go to the sink, scrubbing at my hands and rinsing out my mouth. I want to spit in her face, but I don't. "...stay away from me. Please."

I can hear her sniffling pathetically and it's disgusting how self-absorbed she is. I can't look at her anymore. Not after what she did. Not when I'm crying, the first time in a long time. I haven't since I saw my mother breaking things, laughing and high from whatever she took that night, before passing out on our dirty carpet and leaving me to wonder if she was dead.

I slam the door and leave her to wallow.

Here I am, walking through that dim, deserted hallway. Maybe I'll stay with Ellie – she's still staying in Sean's empty old house. Even better yet; maybe I'll wake up and find out that none of this happened.

I pinch myself to be sure. Fuck, that hurt.

And now I walk listlessly, because I have no idea what I will do or what will happen, and frankly, I can't care less. Except for the gonorrhea. The prospect of having a disease is scaring me to death.

I could hear low murmurings in the auditorium, Liberty's voice louder than the rest, "This is so – argh! Why is there only one maiden? Does someone want to talk to Alex? Calm her down? Something?"

Then Jay's voice, "Let her go. She'll probably kill anyone who tries to talk her within the next few days, anyway. She's like that. I should know."

You don't know what I'm like. You haven't been around to find out; you've been busy fucking people.

Amy and Jay – they're dead to me, anyway.

Everyone's a casualty.

The End

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