Hey all, so this is my very first Degrassi fic. It's just a little one shot that popped into my head while having a Degrassi marathon. This takes place sometime after Degrassi Takes Manhattan. There is the possibility of a companion one shot for this piece. I might write it depending on the amount of interest/reviews that this story gets. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it, and as always reviews are always appreciated!
The bench outside Tony's Auto Works wasn't the most comfortable seat in Toronto. The wooden slats were worn and weathered and sagged alarmingly when Manny sat on the bench, the seat sinking inwards, the wood protesting with a groan as it tried to disassociate from its wrought iron frame. There were several rusty nails protruding at various angles from the dilapidated seat, one of which had tried its best to tear a hole in Manny's sundress when she had accidently brushed against it. No the bench wasn't comfortable, but it did afford Manny a perfect view inside Tony's garage. The large service bay doors were thrown open in an attempt to allow a breeze to permeate inside the hot confines of the garage. The electric scrolling sign above the adjacent Scotiabank building declared that is was 33° C and this hot August day was perfect for checking out the bank's new low interest mortgage rates.
Manny absently wiped at the droplets of sweat that had accumulated on her brow and stared more intently into the garage. The bench did have a bit of shade in the form of a GO bus stop shelter, but the stifling air wasn't moving much and the relentless sun beat into the glass windows of the shelter, blocked only slightly by posters extolling the virtues of CLUB ZANZIBAR, TORONTO'S ALL NIGHT HIGH LIFE! THURSDAY IS LADIES NIGHT! FREE DRINKS BEFORE 6PM!
Manny could have just left the sweltering confines of the bus shelter and headed into the garage. She had been doing it on and off for four years. Tony never minded drop ins as long as his mechanics weren't distracted for too long, but instead she sat and watched. She had been shooting a guest spot on a little known sitcom - she herself had never heard of it - and in truth the sitcom wasn't very funny, but money was money and as a struggling actress in Los Angeles, she had to take what she could get. The shooting had wrapped up sooner than she thought and as a result she had been able to fly back to Toronto a day earlier than planned.
Normally she flew home every other weekend, landing on Friday and taking off on Sunday, but with filming finishing early she had been able to catch an earlier flight, which was how now, on a Thursday afternoon, she was sitting in a GO bus stop shelter, spying on her boyfriend, Jay Hogart. Well spying wasn't exactly the right word, more like observing without detection. When she had spoken to Jay Wednesday night and informed him she had a surprise, he had laughed wryly and said, "Nothing you do surprises me anymore, Dimples."
Now sitting outside Tony's where Jay had worked for over five years as a mechanic, she could remain hidden, watching as he worked. For some reason his comment the other night had bothered her, his sardonic tone resonating in her mind as she lay in bed 3500 kilometres away. Manny wondered if perhaps Jay was bored with their relationship. Never one to discuss his emotions openly, Jay had perfected the use of passive aggressive remarks to get his feelings across. He had sounded tired and a little bit irritated when she had called at 10:30 PM her time, 1:30 AM his time. He had also sounded drunk.
When they had begun dating, back when she was still in high school, this hadn't been an unusual occurrence. After a couple of months, she had offhandedly mentioned that she would like to talk to him sober once in a while. He had cut back on the drinking, and by the time they had been engaged – the real engagement, not the fake 'fool her parents' engagement - he had stopped drinking all together. Then the whole ring debacle had transpired, they broke up, and she began receiving more than her fair share of phone calls, a drunken Jay on the other end, begging her to talk to him, to take him back. At first she allowed his calls to go to voicemail, but the more drunken messages he left, the worse she felt, so she resorted to answering when he called, then immediately hanging up before he could speak. When they had gotten back together, during their long, arduous bus ride to LA, the drinking had once again ceased. It was a rare occasion now to hear that tell-tale slur of words when she called, so she had been caught off guard Wednesday night to hear him grasping for phrases, his R's and S's running together as he spoke. She didn't mention it, mainly because she was too excited about surprising him with her early return, and if she was honest with herself, she just hadn't had it in her to fight with him about the drinking. He had been on the straight and narrow for so long, that she didn't feel it her place to reprimand him for a behaviour that really was of little consequence in the grand scheme of things. She had asked about work – often times the main catalyst for his drinking – and he had grunted an utterance that she hadn't quite understood, and so she dropped the subject.
Now she watched Jay working, the beat up baseball cap in its usual perch spun backwards on his head, his navy blue coveralls pulled down around his waist to ward off the heat. He had tied the uniform loosely around his middle, the long sleeves hanging limply, beating a slow staccato against his thighs as he worked. His gray t-shirt was drenched with sweat, and even from across the street, Manny could see the red spots on his cheeks, tinting his pale face with hectic patches of colour. Every few moments he would absently rub his forehead into his shoulder, trying to erase the build-up of perspiration, and once when he used the sleeve of his t-shirt to rub his eye where sweat had dripped, his curse carried across the street, reaching Manny's ears.
Manny frowned slightly at Jay's demeanour. Hunched over the engine of an old Ford, his back muscles taut against his saturated shirt; he seemed sluggish and not just a little vexed. Occasionally he would haphazardly toss one of his tools into his Snap-On tool box, which was highly unusual. The toolbox had cost him nearly three thousand dollars – all the mechanics had to supply their own tools and toolboxes, though Tony did insure their equipment for no charge – and Manny had never seen Jay treat the metal toolbox as nothing less than a piece of delicate glass, his care for his tools and cabinet almost prissy. Manny had laughed at him about it until he informed her that the box, and all the tools within, totalled an investment of close to ten thousand dollars, all from his own pocket. She hadn't laughed after that. To see him throwing his tools around was a cause for concern, and in that moment Manny knew that something was truly wrong.
Her mind immediately went to that place that she tried to never allow, the 'Jay's cheating on me' place. True he had never cheated on her throughout their entire relationship, and according to Spinner, he hadn't even dated anyone during the six months they had been broken up after Ring Gate. Despite this fact, he had cheated in the past. It was during high school, Jay had argued with her, he had been immature and stupid then. Besides he had added, he hadn't felt for Alex one tenth of what he felt for Manny. Notwithstanding his declarations of how he would never hurt her like that, it was always the first thought that would pop into her head when they spoke on the phone and he would sound withdrawn or moody. She would immediately push the thought into the farthest recesses of her mind, knowing she was being ridiculous. Jay loved her, there was no question. He wouldn't hurt her like that. But he might, her traitorous mind would whisper. He just might.
No, it was ludicrous to even think he was cheating. While having a long distance relationship was at times very difficult, Manny felt that their bond was that much stronger because of, not in spite of, their periods of separation. There had to be something else, something he didn't want to talk about. This revelation brought up a whole new series of doubts in Manny's mind. The fact the he couldn't – or wouldn't – talk with her about something that was obviously bothering him was in itself an upsetting thought. True, Jay had never been much of a talker – his cutting sarcasm and witty ripostes aside – but Manny had always believed that Jay was open with her. After their initial trust issues, he had never kept much from her. He had told her about his mother dying from cancer when he was six, how horrible it had been when his father remarried five months after her death, that the only contact he had with relatives was his Uncle Larry, the lawyer, whom Jay had had to call on more than one occasion to help him out of an arrest. He had told her that while he still occasionally smoked pot, he had only tried hard drugs twice, and both times had been so overwhelmed by the lack of control he felt, that he never even dabbled anymore. These confessions, along with a myriad of others had cemented, in Manny's mind at least, that Jay could, and did, tell her everything.
Now though, watching him from her hidden alcove in the corner of the bus shelter, she knew without question that he was keeping something from her. In that moment she decided that her little game of 'I Spy' had gone on long enough and she was just about to march across the street to confront him, when she was stopped short by Spinner's car pulling up in front of the garage.
It wasn't Spinner that emerged from the car though, it was Emma, her long blond hair pulled up into a messy bun. Clad in a pair of tiny denim shorts and a black Dot Grill tank top, her red apron still tied snugly around her trim waist, Emma bounded out of the car with a wave carrying a Styrofoam box swinging in a plastic bag as she walked towards Jay's bay in the garage. Manny felt an immediate burst of insane jealously as she watched Jay's face break into a smile at Emma's approach. It was the first smile she had seen on his face in the hour that she had been watching him. Her eyes narrowed as she observed her best friend and her boyfriend banter lightly as Emma handed Jay the plastic bag. Jay said something that caused Emma to laugh, her head falling back on her neck, her hands on her hips. Emma reached up and smacked Jay on the arm, causing him to grin even wider, and Manny nearly stormed across the street right then to attack them both. She paused though when she heard her name mentioned, and strained her ears to hear their conversation over the noises of the garage. As it was she could only hear snippets of their exchange.
"….Spin….movie….Friday…..Manny," Emma was saying.
Manny squinted her eyes, as though by sheer force of will she would suddenly develop supersonic hearing as Jay replied.
"…..probably….not to say…..I'll think about….."
Manny tried not to let her mind fill in the blanks with anything that could turn what on the surface appeared to be a very banal conversation into something laden with implied undertones. But she couldn't help herself, and in that moment she flashed back to high school, remembering a conversation with Emma, before Manny loved Jay, hell before she even liked him:
"You're letting a disgusting bottom feeder use you to serial cheat on his girlfriend."
Manny was immediately reminded of the fact that Emma knew Jay in an intimate way, in a way that Manny only wanted herself to know him. True, she had been even more intimate with Emma's husband, Spinner, but Manny had never felt for Spinner what she felt – feels- for Jay, and the fact that Emma had been there first, had touched Jay, had seen that most intimate part of him, had had her mouth on him, had had him – if only temporarily – under her control, caused Manny's chest to tighten, a constricting band of realization squeezing her lungs and making her gasp slightly. Emma had been there first – and that still stung.
Manny knew she was being stupid. If anyone should feel stung, it was Emma. Manny and Spinner had actually dated, Manny was the first girl that Spinner slept with. Emma and Jay had hooked up exactly one time – and that hook up had resulted in Emma getting the clap - but now, watching as Jay and Emma chatted easily, Jay absently picking at the fries in the Styrofoam box, Manny still felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy. Emma got to see Jay every day. Spinner and Jay had over the years become best friends, and now that Emma was Mrs. Gavin Mason, it was only natural that when Spin and Jay hung out, Emma was there. While Manny was across North America in an entirely different country, her best friend got to spend more time with Manny's boyfriend, than Manny herself. Perhaps Emma even knew why Jay was upset, though he certainly looked happy enough now in Emma's presence, Manny noted bitterly.
Stop it, just stop it right now, Manuella, she chastised herself. Emma and Jay were friends, nothing more. Emma is married to Jay's best friend, it makes sense that they've gotten closer as a result. Plus he might just have smiled like that for you if you weren't busy spying on him from a bus shelter. Manny rubbed her face briskly with her palms and watched as Emma gave a short wave goodbye and hustled back to Spinner's car. The minute Emma pulled away, Jay's face fell again and he stared gloomily down at the food in his hands before tossing it into a nearby trash can. He rolled his head on his neck, back and forth, back and forth, than sullenly picked up a wrench and returned his attention to the Ford.
Manny sighed and shifted uncomfortably. What was she doing, sitting here in the heat, snooping on Jay? She shook her head and wondered how time and time again she got herself into these predicaments. It was love, she realized. She loved Jay more than she had ever loved anyone, and it was scary being that vulnerable. She was in love and that was why, rather than going over to surprise her boyfriend, she sat and made up scenarios in her head that placed significant meaning on something as simple as her friend bringing him lunch. As she scolded herself for being so childish, she saw Jay suddenly toss his wrench to the side and dig into his pants, producing his cell phone. He flipped it open and pressed a button. Almost immediately Manny heard her phone vibrating in her purse. She smiled slightly as she watched Jay leave a message. He snapped his phone closed and shoved it into his pocket, a look of sadness on his face. He heaved a sigh, so heavy Manny saw his chest rise and fall, before he grabbed the discarded wrench and went back to work.
Manny snagged her phone out of her purse and checked her voicemail.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm sorry I was kind of out of it last night, some stuff went down, it's too long to tell you in a message, but it has to do with my dad. I want to talk to you about it so be prepared to be my sounding board this weekend. I miss you so much you have no idea. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I love you, Dimples."
Manny saved the message and smiled down at her lap. The bench groaned loudly as she stood up, the worn and weathered wood rebounding slowly from its sudden release of weight. Manny grabbed her purse, stepped out of the shelter, looked both ways, and slowly made her way across the street.