Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi


I. The Beginning

There were a lot of things about Elijah Goldsworthy that she could remember and hold on to when their dates ended. There was the way he smirked, or the way he combed his hair, or even, on those morning where he cursed like an extremely angry driver, the way he talked. Those little things helped her define him, because, honestly, he was something that she had never seen before. She felt something with him that she didn't quite understand, and most of the time, she didn't want to. All the girl knew was that he smelled like apples, smoked a cigarette every once in a while, and, if she were truly lucky, he'd kiss her.

Their dates were something that she cherished. She found him to be mysterious, but so vulnerable at the same time. She loved to listen to him talk. He usually talked when it was them alone and the quiet made everything still and wild. She knew that he hated the quiet, and she knew that he was afraid of his own thoughts, so she loved to be with him when the night was dead and asleep. He'd tell her everything that was going through his mind, and most of the time, she was sure that he wasn't actually talking to her, but to himself. But she didn't mind, because during these times, he'd grab her hand and squeeze-almost like he was telling her that he knew of her existence.

They'd go anywhere together. Morty was almost always packed up with food, snacks, and blankets for those long and beautiful nights in the back. Their worlds were growing and expanding, and both would often come home and find how much things had changed. They had changed each other, and they both didn't mind. Their changes had come from the trips and long talks, the talks where they each learned new facts about the other, facts that had never been spoken before. They spoke of traveling the world and discovering new land, because they hated everything that they were surrounded with. They dreamed of adventures and road trips. They spoke about the future when the present was much too difficult to face.

And, often, right in between their daily romps in the back of Morty, Eli would pant against her lips and say, "You know that I'm falling in love with you, Edwards, but, I need to know where we're going today."

"Edwards" would smile and mutter, "Today? Well, let's go to Paris!" She'd exclaim.

"Paris it is." The day before had been Japan and the day before that had been India.

(Though, they usually just went a couple of miles down the road, but in a way, that was Paris to them)

II. The Middle

Now, she didn't have to find ways to remember him. She knew him. He knew her. And she liked that-no, she needed that. She wasn't sure which way was up and which way was down, and she was sure that she never would, but Eli took away the pain from not knowing. He was the one to rub her back as the news of the divorce made its way to her ears. He made her vanilla sundaes when her tears would get the best of her.

On those cold nights, when the bed would creak slightly with every movement they made, or when the wind would rustle against the window, she had his hand intertwined with hers. From the moon, she used the light to study his graceful body. He was skinny and lanky, and somewhat average in height, but to her, he was something of a totally different world. Each scar and mole etched itself into her mind with a hot iron, making sure that she knew each story of his skin. His skin was pale and lovely in the moonlight. It almost glowed in the blackness, glowing like a star in the lost sky, telling a story for all to see and learn from.

Those nights were almost better than their dates. Because, even after the time that they spent together, Eli still had his precautions. He trusted her, sure, but he always had that one wall up. It was as if his walls and Clare were battling it out, trying to be the one on top. But in these late nights, Clare found that she didn't need for that wall to be down when he was awake, because the wall was broken and vulnerable as he slept. She observed him, and all was right with the world when he'd whisper her name and smile, sleep still upon him.

He finally melted in her loving hand when she offered him her purity ring. It sparkled and was lit on fire in his eyes, and it was then, when he realized that she wanted it just as badly as he did. She would never forget the feeling of him on top of her, with his silver necklace dangling down and his usually quiet eyes were wild and nervous. She was scared, because she had never been naked in front of anyone before and she wasn't proud of her body, but Eli made her feel safe and loved, even when his eyes stared hungrily down at her.

As the days went by and spring came around, Elijah Goldsworthy wasn't what she thought he was. It was, as if, one day she was talking to one boy, and the next, she was talking to a stranger. She didn't mind, for she knew that he was upset about a certain upcoming date and was also just a teenager boy. But she did worry about him. Especially in the car when he'd started to cry.

And after Eli's tears had dried, she could tell that the boy wanted to forget what had just previously happened, he looked at her and asked, "You know that I'm in love with you and may always be, Edwards, but, I need to know where we're going."

This time, looking out the window, she spoke honestly.

"I don't know where we're going."

III. The End-Now

The only thing Clare Edwards allows herself think, is that he looks odd in white. The white hospital gown makes him look like a scared little boy, and briefly, she wonders if that's all he has ever been. The whole room is white. The walls. The bed. His smile. And even the book on the table next to him. It's all white, and she can't breathe. And he's just smiling.

Smiling his white smile.

She asks him what he did, even though she knows. She knows that he had crashed Morty for her and that she had broken up with him and stood him up. She knows all that, but she wants to hear it from him, so she won't debate whether she's crazy or not. As she waits for his answer, doctors walk by and she wants to scream at them for not doing their job and fixing him.

He speaks, and he's talking crazily. His words are jumbled together like a thousand word crossword puzzle. He eyes are bright and focused-too focused. And she wants to weep because she's sure that she lost him. She lost him in the car and to her heart and to the nights. His lips are red and black and blue, and she wants to kiss them better, but she doesn't know how.

And what Clare Edwards wants to know the most, and she's thinking this as she walks out, with the tears streaking her cheeks, is that she wants to know when they'll go to Paris. She wants him to ask her where they're going. She wants those adventures and she wants them with him. But all she sees is his white attire in the hospital and she's sure that Japan was only temporary.

The girl begins to cry as she walks alone in the night, not because Paris and Japan were only a bit of a joke, but because she knew that if he asked her where she wanted to go at this very moment in time, only five words would leave her mouth.

"I'd go anywhere with you."


...Yup.

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