Sorry it's a little late. There's not one specific reason, more like a jumble of reasons all thrown into the mixing bowl and producing just one big, general problem. Uhh, yeah. So again, tell me what ya think...sorry if it's immensely bad, as I say, this is my first fan-fic I've actually sent out, so ya know: give me props for courage and all. Anyways, read on. Oh and thanks for the reviews guys, slightly over complimentary but thanks all the same.
-shalamar-
There's More Than One Reason to Cover-Up
Daylight streamed through the slightly ajar window. The rich, burgundy curtains ruffled slightly in the morning breeze, as a particularly wild gust drew them out onto the bay window, before they drifted slowly back inside. Paige's eyes flickered open, and she tensed reflexively. Cerulean eyes immediately fell upon the lone figure seated on the pine window-seat, onyx colored waves covering a good portion of her back; clad in a white wife beater and trademark baggy jeans, Alex's powerful hands rested on her bent knees, and her hazel eyes, were focused on the scenes of morning life outside the window.
She quietly pulled back the covers that had been draped carefully across her worn-out body, and padded over to the door, her feet barely making a sound as they landed on the mahogany boards. Pausing for a moment, she reached over and grabbed a blanket which was strewn haphazardly over the back of her desk chair and proceeded to approach her friend; she sat simply beside Alex. They stayed seated in silence, both pondering their own thoughts, both with an easy acceptance of each other. And then, as if an invisible hand was guiding them, the teenagers began to unconsciously slide closer to each other; their bodies gravitated towards the other, craving some kind of closeness, molding their frames together like clay being warmed in the hands of a potter.
Alex's arms wrapped around Paige, in an act of such regularity, it would appear that Paige could never belong anywhere else. Paige leaned back and into the embrace; Alex's touch, as always, taking her breath away – like the sight of a new-born baby sleeping soundly in the arms of its weary, sated mother; making her forget everything and sink into the only place she felt safe.
Alex gazed down at Paige with unconcealed love. She took in the almost golden, flaxen wavy hair - the hair of a princess, the slightly flushed, creamy pale skin - like freshly churned milk. Behind protective eye-lids and fair lashes, Alex knew hid the bluest eyes she had ever seen; no adjective could ever compliment nor describe the wonders the Paige held within her mesmerizing eyes. She was quickly drawn out of her reverie when Paige's body began to shake. Tears left her eyes, and winding down supple skin, dripped onto Alex's hand before flowing off and into the oblivion.
The silence stretched on, and if her movements were a movie, a director would have shot the long, slow and agonizingly painful death of a child, while its family watched helplessly on the sidelines. There were no words for the moment, nothing that Alex could think of that could help. She was totally useless, and without control of the situation Alex was quickly spiraling out of her depth. Suddenly, like when you hit the pause button on a remote control, the convulsions stopped, Paige's tears ran out; all was still. Breaking this, Alex's hand crept up towards Paige's; and very, very slowly, it enfolded the small appendage within its own. The two hands lay nuzzled together, cozily as can be; belying the break-up that seemed to have taken place only minutes ago.
Paige's digital alarm clock beeped, ending the silent contemplation and alerting her to the time. Alex shuffled back reluctantly, their joined hands being wrenched cruelly apart; turning Paige, she fixed upon her with heavy, darkened eyes and said, "I should go." Paige, reaching distractedly to scratch her itchy, red-rimmed eyes, nodded in acquiescence. Alex took Paige's hand, "I'm still your friend, no matter what. Okay?" once again, Paige did not speak, instead choosing to physically reply with a simple nod. Alex stood, pulled Paige into her arms and kissed her cheek "See you in school" she whispered, struggling with her body's notions that she should stay, refusing to give in to the temptation of sliding her lips slightly to the left where they would no doubt come in contact with Paige's warm and welcoming, cerise lips. "'Bye" Paige replied softly, watching as Alex's baggy-jean clad ass swayed nonchalantly across the room, before quickly disappearing through her door.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" she asked herself, not wanting the reply that she knew would hurt her even more than the mysterious girl who had just left her room. Paige glanced at her clock, and noting the time she scanned her closet for something to wear to school. She headed into her bathroom to begin her morning ritual of primping and preparing; after her shower, she stood before the mirror. Critical eyes mechanically took in what she was wearing; a tight, long-sleeved, black and grey sweater, a blue-jean skirt with frayed edges and a pair of black, calf-length leggings. It wasn't particularly typical attire, but it would do for today.
She set about carefully applying the mask that she hid behind almost every day. She realized how superficial her attitude to school, and perhaps even life, was. "No wonder Alex doesn't want to be with me, I'm this superficial, money wasting bitch; while she saves just enough to make it through another day." Paige sighed deeply, it was just so hard. The contemplation of life without Alex holding her, cuddling her, protecting her – just being hers, was becoming more and more painful, and she could feel the inner turmoil that she was forcing herself to bury like a shameful secret, deep, deep down inside her, was wreaking havoc on her soul.
She paused in her ministrations and self-consciously wrapped her arms, almost over-constricting, making it hard to breathe. "No! I will not give up." She stared down at her at pale, naked arms, gripping a slim waist tightly. Slowly, but surely, the arms contracted and fell with a slight bounce, uselessly at her sides. She stared at herself in the mirror, right hand poised mid-air with a bronzer brush, "Is it really worth it? This façade I hide behind?" Unable to reach a conclusion to her own rhetorical question, Paige finished her make-up. Deeming herself finished, she heaved a weighty sigh and finally, turned away from the mirror.
Meanwhile, as Paige was beating herself up for her conceited attitude, Alex shifted nervously from foot to foot at her front door. Her hand, clenching her house-key, hesitated. And then she heard what she was waiting for. Twin voices, began to yell and berate each other. The language harsh and the tone like listening to enraged dogs maul each other, spittle and blood flying everywhere. Quickly, she shoved her key in the lock and twisted it, and the door knob, simultaneously; granting her access to the place she was forced to call home.
The volume rose as the door swung open and brown eyes automatically slid towards the two combatants, yelling in front of a cracked TV screen. Emily, Alex's mother, was slight, pasty-looking and weary; the look of woman who had clearly suffered hardships: said hardships were mainly a result of being in a relationship with Chad, the bulky, beefy looking man who was currently poking a dirty, nicotine-stained finger in her face. Surrounding her head was unwashed, unkempt hair so unruly, the color was undeterminable. Neither noticed Alex as she expertly slipped past them and into her room. The close of her door just barely muffled the sound of Chad's fist knocking Emily to the ground. Alex leant against the cheap frame, willing for the strength to come.
Her eyes took in her room, the only haven she had left after leaving Paige's house, and their relationship, behind. It was a fairly tidy room, average looking for a tomboyish teenage girl. Rock posters and famous women were scattered haphazardly along the walls, but instead of random order, it would have been clear to anyone that Alex allowed inside her defenses, that they were all precious to her and their locations had been carefully chosen.
Beside a worn, oak desk, sat a cheap, fold-away chair and her school bag – still unpacked, still containing unfinished homework. Laying at the foot of her closet was a white singlet, the product of a badly aimed shot at the large plastic bag substituting for a clothes hamper; tucked neatly in the corner beside her feet were two pairs of white sneakers, piled on top of each other, dirty, white laces dangling freely. A second-hand twin bed and a black closet completed the furniture in Alex's room. The bed was neatly made up with thin, white sheets, a navy pillow case covered flimsy pillow, and a grey blanket folded into four at the foot of her bed.
And, sitting with immense pride on her window sill, with the air of someone important and as if it could belong nowhere else, was a scruffy, fawn colored, blue dungaree wearing teddy bear; the only thing she had ever owned from her father. Beside, Thomas (the bear), standing pride of place was a silver photograph frame; it contained her favorite picture of Paige – blonde hair flowing, blue eyes sparkling mischievously at the photographer and an infectious, wide smile, stretching across her face.
Sighing, Alex moved away from the door, and wandered over to her closet. She quickly chose her outfit and then paused; trying to ascertain at what stage the fight was currently at. Voices were lower, barely audible in fact. This was good – this symbolized an end to the noise. She yanked her door open, a practiced motion and headed to the dingy bathroom, to change; her focus so intent on the black tiled floor that covered her destination that she missed the TV remote Chad was currently flinging at her mother, who it appeared had risen from the floor. Emily's quick ducking saved her from a nasty concussion; Alex was not so lucky, and the sharp end of the grey object clipped her smartly around the temple. She dropped like a wounded goose having been shot out of the sky, a loud thud the only clue to her still warring 'elders', that Alex was no longer conscious.
Chad, enraged as always, threw up his arms in desperation and giving one final shove to Emily, he grabbed his thin, winter jacket, threw it on and stormed out of their tiny apartment. Emily sniffed pathetically, wiping at her streaming eyes. She rubbed the bruise that was beginning to form on her pale forearms where Chad had gripped her. And then finally, her gaze fell on her fallen daughter. She sighed with annoyance; stumbling drunkenly over, she grabbed Alex's motionless body and shook her, obviously hoping to elicit some kind of response.
After a great deal of shaking, and a surprising amount of patience from Emily, Alex began to groan in pain as she came to with the wound to her forehead striking her like a ton of bricks. "Mom...let go. Leave me alone…please." Emily shrugged, and without further ado, dropped Alex's body from her hands, reached for her coat and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Alex groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, gathering her breath and letting the precious tears flow freely onto the dirty, boarded floor. She took a few shallow breaths and with the assurance that her ribs and major organs were intact, she slid her arms underneath her, levied her body of the floor and sat up carefully. "One day at a time." She muttered to herself, "One fucking day at a time."
Outside, the snow storm seemed to have started up again. Its motion was so intense that it seemed like the world had been set to pause, it was unclear where one snow flake ended and the next began. The kids of Degrassi Community High School strolled in with only worries of whether their crush was reciprocated or if Miss Kwan was really going to check their homework which they had forsaken for a night out at the mall. No-one was wondering where the next meal would come from, whether they'd be fit for work because of a head injury, how to talk to the girl you'd just broken up with to protect her, but most definitely no-one was wondering whether to give up yet; life for the Degrassi kids appeared relatively easy to the life-long worries of a certain Miss Nuñez. Alex tossed her head defiantly, immediately wishing she hadn't as the pain blossomed with the movement, and caught sight of the picture of Paige through her open bedroom door. And suddenly, the strength to go on was there, and Alex knew she would survive another day.
