Grunge
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes I had to lie to myself about our realtionship, but that doesn't mean I was willing to let it go. We go together like The Cure and Blink 182. And I'd do anything to finally be his punk rock princess, again...for real.
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, I don't even live in Canada.
Note from me: So the day has come. I am officially intrested in Degrassi again, especially in partical this Degrassi couple (Read it and figure it out.) Somehow I just got nostalogic and realized the beauty of them and Degrass's superpopcultureness. If I ever update this will be a 3 part story taking place in the current season but I'm taking my own liberties.
So I bet your wondering how I got here? I bet you wanna know everything that made me end up in a situation like this. Well there are two things I could do. I could lie. I could flat out choose a good mask, add in some pouting, and act like nothing happened. Or I could tell the truth. I could look you in the eye and say every single thing that I've done as I let the words cascade happily across my tongue. Afterwards I will wait and ask you in the awkward silence if there's anyway you possibly that you would consider forgiving me, and I will secretly pray to myself that you get distracted by the glitter on my fingernails. That you will get distracted in the sadness that I will add in the face I choose to put on when I look at you and try to act as serious as possible. That maybe you will get caught up in the looks I am giving you. That's the only thing I can really hope for.
I guess I kind of believe that you will forgive me. Maybe? It's not something I really wanna think about. I bite my lip and lick the gloss that is shining happily on my lips. I play with the ends of my hair and pick at the glitter on my fingernails, watching them happily fall to the floor like fairy dust. Sprinkling. So Happy. I get distracted by this. I get lost and dazed in the happiness of the sparkles. Confetti sparkles, sprinkles, shimmer dust, and go well with your clashing grudge. Counting split ends like it's a habit is my only salvation. Staring at the prickly ends. I would wait a little longer. I told myself. It had taken me two weeks to stand here, and two more minutes wouldn't do anything.
Then all of sudden your standing there. Your eyes are all purple and sunken again. I wanted to tell you to stop doing that. I wanted to tell you to quit. I wanted to kiss you really hard in front of everyone. I wanted to hit you really hard in front of everyone. You acknowledge my presence slightly, your eyes flicker, making sure no one is here. No one that could see. Like anyone couldn't tell. You don't even want to tell me to go away. I bite my lip again, but this time because the image of you that I've built up in my head isn't matching up to the one standing to the left of me. You always find a creative way to disappoint me. You're almost walking away now. Your almost not even going to say a single word. I don't know if you would have.
"I can't do this anymore."
Words harsh and foreign kind of like I feel like I might be throwing up. Or talking to a stranger. You turn around.
"Doing what?" You say to me, and then you walk. Because you, you like to lie. It's a habit for you. This is the third time this has happened. One, two, three.
"Do what?" I mouth to myself again once your gone, once you freely walk to class with nothing on your chest. And I stand while the bell has rung, and time is out, and I slink to the floor and smooth my hair. You'll be by my house later tonight, around 12:20. You always find a creative way to cover up your slips as you live the double life of insanity that I find myself sinking under. You're pulling me into your charade. Your pulling me under kicking and screaming while you tell others "everything is going just fine."