A/N: Well, for starters thanks to all who reviewed, this for all of you guys!

I must say, I intended it to be a one-shot, and yes, some reviewers said I should write another chapter and I thought about this yesterday so... Yup, it is so much shorter than I thought it would be but I hope you guys like it!

Inspiration for this short piece comes from the master pieces by Masshi Hamazu; Vanille's Theme and Lightning's Theme - Final Fantasy XIII.

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

Clare sat on the floor inside Degrassi. She flipped the page of the book she was reading by Palanhiuk, Haunted, and sighed, biting her lower lip. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of two pig tails. And then small, black glasses and pink lip gloss. Then, what mostly caught her eye was the fact that the girl making her way up to her had an aggravated face.

Eli sauntered behind Imogen with a quirked brow and a questioning look, realizing they were in front of Clare, who began to pick up her things from the floor, and stood up, dusting herself off. She fixed her khaki pants and smiled at young "couple," as Imogen Moreno put it.

"Yes?" was Clare's snarky question.

Eli backed away from both girls, glaring at Imogen and then at Clare, whose grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Stop flirting with Eli," deadpanned Imogen.

Clare's mouth fell agape and she blinked a couple of times. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Stop. Flirting. With. Eli. You know, my boyfriend?" Imogen pointed out, looking back at Eli and then at the smaller girl in front of her.

Bystanders "ahed" and "oohed" as they walked by. Clare's eyes lit up and she smirked up at Imogen, whose face became skeptical. Clutching the strap of her bag, Clare stepped back a bit and sighed.

"No, I don't know, could you repeat what you said?"

"Which part? Where I insult you or the whole phrase?" Imogen asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"Surprise me," Clare retorted.

"Slu –"

.

.

The lights were switched off and Elijah Goldsworthy bit back the urge to groan out in exasperation. Clare was standing in front of him, arms crossed under her chest and a glare that sent shivers down Eli's spine.

Eli wrinkled his nose. "Oh, for the love of – the janitor's closet, again?" He said and Clare placed her hand over her mouth stifling a giggle. "You know, now I'm going to have to walk into History class and be all, "Oh, hey Mr. Purino, I got here late, again, because my ex assaulted me in the hall, dragged me into a closet –"

"Janitor's, Eli."

"-and kissed me to no end." Sounds right, don't you think, Blue Eyes?"

Clare rolled her eyes and looked at him, resting her hands on her hips. "I don't approve of… Imogen," she spat out, a bit too harsh than intended.

Eli grinned. "That's what you want to talk about? I could say the same thing about that dream boy, Jake."

"At least I don't act like he's my boyfriend," She backfired, her arms flailing in anger. "You saw her, Eli, she acts like you two are together, or something," She muttered.

"Well…"

Clare gasped. "Seriously?"

"No, wait, let me try this again. I might have led her on at some point… You know, rehearsing the lines for the play and all…" He said in an innocent way, scratching the back of his neck in a playful manner, thinking what to say.

Clare huffed and closed her eyes, stepping back and leaning the small of her back against the door. Eli groaned and stepped closer to Clare, who looked up at him. Eli clasped his large, calloused hand on her smaller, soft one.

"Now that I mention it, Clare, I would like to know what's happening with us."

Clare let out a shaky breath and placed her right hand on his neck, tracing circles with her thumb. There was another glint in her eyes and she grinned knowingly, getting on her toes and kissing him chastely. He clutched her hand tighter and she stepped back, cheeks flaming red.

"You know," She began, biting the inside of her cheek, "I remember one wise man told me something once… and we're in a closet."

He smirked and she gave him a devilish smile.

"You little devil."

And she kissed him again. After all, no one would know about their small encounter in the closet.