-1So it was decided. She was going to go for it. Paige was going to somehow get Alex back. Alex was too important. What they had was too special. Fuck her parents. They already looked at her like she was something terrible anyway. Forget them. And so help her God if she had to set foot in Degrassi again. What, maybe Manny would give her a hard time, call her a dyke? Big wow. Go show your boobs some more, Little Girl. Christ Club could kiss her ass. Mr. Simpson, Armstrong, Hatsilakos, fuck 'em all. She was getting her girl back no matter what it took.

Marco had kissed her forehead and said goodnight as he closed her door. Now she was alone with her piles of dirty laundry and unpacked things. The place really was a mess. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She was taking over. No more Miss Nice Paige. It was time. She was back. She was seizing the day, seizing the moment, seizing the Nunez! Paige knelt beside one of the boxes and started taking things out and making neat, organized piles. THERE'S that other black shoe! Books, notebooks, Banting ID card...ew, framed picture of Alex-

Shit.

And one of Alex's tank tops she had shamelessly kept. And lied about losing. And kept mixed in with hers but knew which one it was. Alex's sweatshirt she'd worn home early one morning and never gave back. Alex's sweatshirt that she wore to class a lot, that she had accidentally burned a hole in the sleeve of with a cigarette when she was on the front steps crying about everything, wishing Alex was there with her arms around her and not her faded black hoodie. A slew of photographs mostly taken by themselves, holding the camera, arm outstretched. Some were of them in her car, some had the unmistakable backdrop of Paige's sheets, oh fuck, the one of them kissing.

She put a hand over her face, dropped the photos on her lap. Maybe she couldn't do this, this was too hard, too impossible, too, just. too. much. She took a few deep breaths, calming the anxiety she could feel coming on. This box was full of Alex and should have been marked as such with glowing red marker. And possibly glitter. And some flashing neon lights and a padlock. Stupid things, mementos she felt were so important... a pair of Alex's earrings she'd borrowed, a dried rose that Alex had surprised her with, she had been apologizing for something...probably something stupid that was Paige's fault anyway, a score sheet from a day of minigolf in which she'd wiped the floor with Alex. Then Alex pouted for an hour. Then they fought about it for three minutes. Then they made up for twenty in the bathroom. Old notes from class, a few from detention for too much PDA in the hallways...yikes, these notes were filthy. No wonder she kept them boxed up.

She rose to her feet, exhaling heavily. Perhaps this was going to be harder than she thought. She had to unpack the boxes, she had to get everything out in the open, put the pictures back on the nightstand, and get her shit together. She picked up Alex's sweatshirt and held it out. The pocket was half ripped off. The hood was tired, the drawstring on the hood was long gone. It had thumb holes ripped in the sleeves. The right sleeve had that stupid burn hole. Paige looked the hoodie over a few more minutes before hanging it up in her closet. It was the only thing hanging there so far. The rest of her clothes were on the floor. It seemed like she was finally getting her priorities in line.

-----------------

"Oh SHIT! This bitch is SMOKIN!" the groom-to-be, overly liquored and happy as hell, clapped Armstrong on the back.

"Yeah. She's cute." Armstrong wouldn't look at her. He couldn't. He stiffened in his chair and pounded the remainder of his drink.

"CUTE?! Guys, Armstrong says she's CUTE!" the groom and the table full of guys burst out laughing. "Cute? She's a motherfucking FOX! She's the hottest one we've seen all night!" he whooped.

"Shut up, Man."

"Shake it, sweet thing!" the bachelor of the hour shouted up to where Alex was intricately wrapped around the pole.

"Stop it," Armstrong held up a hand and looked away.

"What's wrong with you?" one of his buddies gave him a dirty look. "That's a choice piece of ass up there!"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Armstrong clenched his jaw.

"Oh, now you're worried about this little slut's morals?" The groom scoffed. "Way to ruin the night, man."

"She's one of my students," Armstrong said flatly. None of the guys spoke. All of their jaws were slack. He stood up and opened his wallet, dropping a few twenties on the table for the drinks. He straightened his suit jacket and avoided the stage as much as possible. "I gotta go." He hurried out of the club and hailed the first cab that passed him. Getting that image out of his head was going to be impossible.

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"Hey," Jay looked awkwardly up at Alex as she emerged from the club. She had ducked out as early as possible, declining invites to go to a club with the rest of the girls. They really were trying. When they all saw her leaving arm in arm with Mel's boyfriend, she knew there would be explaining to do. She was still slightly done up, curls in a ponytail, some make up still on but not quite so heavy. She was in jeans and a careless button up of which only two of the buttons were fastened. She looked so damn pretty. It made it worse.

"Hey," Alex had her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't look at him. Jay had been polite enough to sit at the bar all night and not set foot in the strip side.

"You wanna get a drink?" Jay asked.

"Not really," Alex looked down the street at traffic, people, anything to avoid his eyes.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Pancakes?" Jay smiled a little.

"Perfect," Alex broke and half smiled back, still looking down, but finally flicking her eyes up at him. "Where's Mel?"

"She took off," Jay replied. "Wanted to give us some time to talk."

"That was nice of her," Alex said quietly.

"Yeah, Mel's a nice girl," Jay slung his arm around Alex's shoulder. "Now let's get you fed."

"Alright," Jay rested his elbows on the table. Now that they both had coffee, their second cups, and she had a plate of chocolate chip pancakes, Jay was not messing around. Jay wasn't eating. He couldn't. His stomach was too unstable with nerves. "Let's talk."

"Well, Chad racked up all the credit cards," Alex began with her mouth full.

"Right. And the dipshit's in jail, yes?" Jay asked, sipping his coffee. He hated himself for liking Chad. He always used to, used to identify with him or something, not look up to him, but he was like a buddy. Maybe he just felt the guy's pain. The moment he found out those bruises on Alex's body were from Chad and not from lacrosse practice or whatever bullshit excuse she used to give, no more. Jay was through. Now that the sleazebag was in jail, he was sleeping easier.

"Yes, he's in jail," Alex sighed.

"What else is going on?" Jay asked. He wasn't pushy, he was concerned and Alex was having a hard time with it. Jay'd certainly grown up a lot lately and Mel was making a good man out of him. It had taken Jay a while to accept Alex's sexuality, but the bottom line was that he loved her and he wanted to be supportive. Now he was okay with it, treated her more like a sister, and stopped making jokes about how hot lesbians were. At least less frequently anyway.

"Well, since my mom used those cards to pay the bills, Mom and I can't afford our rent," Alex paused to stab another bite and chew it a bit. She was wolfing her food down and Jay's stomach turned when he sadly wondered when the last time she ate was. "We're getting evicted if we don't have two grand by next weekend so..." she trailed off and pointed to her face and hair with her fork. "Hence the make over."

Jay's face tensed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took slow deep breaths to beat down every urge to curse and yell and be a child about it. This wasn't his problem, it was Lexi's, but there had to be another way. She'd only seen the stage a couple of nights and was already starting to sound jaded. He'd hung out and partied with some of Mel's friends from Zanzibar and Alex just wasn't like them. She didn't belong there. The waitressing was one thing. Mel was a very pretty girl, HIS very pretty girl, but he was okay with her serving drinks, he was not always so okay with how short her dress was, but she was covered and she could handle herself. But what Alex was doing...He loved strippers as much as the next guy, but he didn't like HER doing it.

"Jesus, Lexi," Jay sighed.

"It sucks. It's miserable, but I'm handling it and we should be out of the hole in no time this way," Alex said frankly. She even almost convinced herself. Jay lit a cigarette and watched her eat, thankful he was allowed to smoke in the all night diner. He knew he would need a few cigarettes to talk about this.

"Does Emily know?" Jay asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Alex froze. She didn't even chew for a few seconds.

"No," she got out, then put another big bite in her mouth.

"How the hell are you explaining all this money?!" Jay cried.

"I told her I was a waitress at a schmancy bistro," Alex looked guilty.

"And she bought that?!" Jay spat out.

"This is my mother we're talking about here, Jay! Not exactly winning parent of the year award!" Alex snapped.

"I know, but you've got to have five hundred bucks in your pocket!" Jay tried to keep his voice down.

"Eight Fifty," Alex muttered. Jay's eyes widened. "There was a particularly generous group of men at a bachelor party." Alex shifted uncomfortably.

"I can see how that's hard money to turn down, but REALLY, Lex!" Jay's voice was high pitched as he tried to stay quiet and calm. "Does Paige know about this?"

"Why the fuck are you bringing HER into this?!" Alex yelled, slamming her fork down. A bunch of people looked up at them. Alex took a huge gulp of coffee, then snatched Jay's pack of butts off the table and lit herself one. She took a fierce drag as she glared at him.

"I don't know? I thought you two were-"

"We're NOT, Jay. Can't you get that filthy mind of yours out of the god damn gutter for five mother fucking-"

"FRIENDS. I thought you and Paige were friends, Alex," Jay cut her off.

"We're not that either, we're not ANYTHING!" Alex leaned back against the booth, dropping her head on the back of it and sighing out a train of smoke towards the ceiling. She was trying so very hard for the umpteenth time that day not to cry.

"What?! Since when!" Jay tapped his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Forget it, Jay," Alex sighed, trying desperately not to blink and let the tears in her eyes fall down her cheeks where Jay would be able to see them.

"No I most certainly will NOT." Jay huffed. "Did that little gay-when-it's-convenient bitch hurt you again?" Jay sat up, his shoulders strong.

"Please don't talk about her like that," Alex wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. "Just don't talk about her at all, okay?" Alex tilted her head back up to look at him.

"Lex, don't cry." Jay winced. He HATED when she cried. He just plain didn't know what to do.

"I can't help it," she said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Babe, really, what's going on with Paige?" Jay pressed.

"NOTHING! I said not to talk about it! NOTHING is going on with Paige, would you just DROP it already?!" Alex growled.

"You're lying," Jay sighed, taking a drag.

"I told her I loved her, okay, asshole? I fucking told her I loved her!" Alex yelled. They had gained the entire dining room's worth of spectators now. Alex was waving her hands around, sending smoke and ash in all directions. She paused to take a long drag. "I told her exactly how I felt and it was awful and terrifying and horrible and the STUPIDEST motherfucking idea EVER!" Alex huffed. She was choking on small sobs now.

"You told her you loved her?" Jay gaped. Holy shit. This was not good, this was a mess, this was a problem. this was down right bad. He had never seen this. Never seen Alex like this. This? This wasn't going to be pretty.

"YES, Jay. And she DIDN'T say it BACK!" Alex banged her elbow onto the table and hid her face in her hand, all the while managing to sneak drags in off her smoke.

"What the fuck?" Jay was lost.

"Then. THEN! She kisses me like everything is FINE!" Alex yelled. An older man sitting at the table next to them was not being shy about being offended by Alex's behavior. Jay looked side to side. People were staring. Wincing. Rolling their eyes. "And she tells me she's under too much pressure to figure out her own fucking sexuality! That girl doesn't know what pressure IS! I'm taking my CLOTHES OFF to keep a ROOF over me and my mother's head!" Alex yelled. A few evil glances came their way.

"She's a dancer, not a prostitute," Jay assured the man at the next table. He rolled his eyes and made a show of fluffing his newspaper.

"You need to teach your girlfriend a thing or two," he sighed.

"She's not my girlfriend, buddy," Jay snapped.

"Not anymore," the older man scoffed.

"Haven't you been eavesdropping the whole time? She's GAY!" Jay snapped. A few younger people suppressed impressed snickers. Alex just smoked and cried. Normally a stunt like that would've earned Jay a string of colorful insults and possibly a black eye, but she was too tired to care.

"The things you kids get into these days," the older man shook his head and got up and left.

"Get fucked, asshole!" Alex spat after him. Jay held his hand up and gave the man the most sincere apologetic face he could manage.

"Lexi, Babe, come on," Jay tried. "It's going to be okay."

"No," Alex whispered. "I don't really think it is," she stuffed her cigarette in the ashtray and wiped her eyes again. Jay sighed, unsure of what to say. He rested his hand on top of hers. "Can you just...just take me home. Please." She looked up at him with those big brown eyes and he swallowed hard as he felt his heart break a little more.

"Yeah, come on," Jay's voice was drained as he picked up the check, wouldn't dare let her pay, and gave her his jacket as he lead her to his car.