It was raining outside. Rumbling thunder stomped through the sky while I sat in a desk in the back of the classroom. I tapped the edge of the desk with my pencil, which was halfway covered in bite marks. Detention has barely started and I already want to escape the droning silence. I don't even know why I bother to come to school anymore; I've already lost her anyway.
The teacher is sitting at his desk, his long crooked nose in a book. There are three other people in here other than me, none I particularly care for. I resume my tapping on the desk, to sync into rhythm with the patter of rain against the window.
That's when the door opens, my gaze raising up from the desk, and she steps in wearing a flower dress. She looks upset, annoyed, and exhausted all wrapped up into one. She hands the teacher her note and turns to find a seat. She doesn't want to sit near the front, because the dude looks a little creepy. She doesn't want to sit in the middle, because the girl looks like she'd beat her up. And she definitely doesn't want to sit in the back with her boyfriend's archenemy. But what other choice does she have? I watch her take in a deep breath, walk past the weird-o, doesn't even glance at the girl, and stares me down before taking the seat next to mine.
She sets her backpack on the floor and reaches in, taking out a dark colored book. She props it open on the desk and leans on her hand as she tries to find her page.
"Not even a hello?"
She doesn't say anything. She continues to flip through the pages, but it doesn't look as if she's searching for anything in particular. She just keeps skipping pages without a second glance.
"Are you still upset about what I pulled with your boyfriend?"
And then she stops, frozen, as if I've just turned her off switch. She sits there staring down at her book, her hand still resting on a page. Her head is bent down where her hair is masking her face so I can't read any of her expressions. Not that they're easy to read in the first place.
Then, in an icy tone, she finally says, "He's not my boyfriend." and continues to flip through her book.
I've never seen her like this before. Something must've gone wrong. The two lovers must be fighting. But the way she kept searching through those pages was driving me crazy! I took her hand that she had been using and held it in mine. She looked up and her eyes were wide, but they were watery too. She was about to cry.
I jump up from my seat, our hands still intact, and speak before I think, which I'm popular for, "Mr. teacher dude! Clare's feeling sick! Is it ok if I take her home?"
He looks up at me from his book and glances between Clare and I. She really does look sickly now, as if she's about to pass out.
"Fine," He sighs, "But I'm not a dude."
And I don't care. I help Clare gather her things and we exit the room. Hand in hand we walk down a hallway or two before we stop and I ask her what was wrong.
"It's stupid." She whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.
"I don't think it's stupid if you're crying about it."
She leans against one of the lockers and I join her, noticing how much taller I was compared to her.
"I'm not crying." But once she finishes the sentence the tears are streaming down her face. She tries to rub them but they just keep coming.
I lean over her and sweep my thumb against her cheek, wiping away runaway tears. She looks up at me with sparkling, crystal-blue eyes. Eyes I cannot avert away from. I watch as her gaze darts from my eyes to my lips, and back again.
"I hate him." I was close enough to smell her sweet candy breath, smell her orange shampooed hair.
I lean in just a little bit closer, with her closing the gap, and our lips make contact, sending amplifying sparks throughout my body. And I feel those stupid butterflies in my stomach, the hairs on my neck curling in delight.
It was a quick, soft kiss. One that left me wanting more. But when she backed away from me, her hands covering her mouth and her face tear streaked once more, my mouth went dry and I had no idea what to do. She backed away from me, shaking her head, sending her hair swishing back and forth. Then when she was a safe distance away she turned her back on me and ran, turning into a neighboring hallway.
My hands unconsciously reached up to touch my lips, the ghost of hers still present.
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Hi there! Did you like my little Oneshot about Clare and Fitz? He seems a little…smarter in my fic than in the show! Please review if you liked it! And if you're a fan of Degrassi please check out my blog at .com -and follow me! Thanks bunches! With much love, Yuuki
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