Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

The Snowflakes

It was cold outside, and the weather predicted snow sometime soon.

Imogen looked around the street from the top step of the school, half hoping to see her mother, who had promised to pick her up from school that morning. She wasn't in the least surprised that her mother's car wasn't in carpool. She couldn't even remember a time when her parents had gone near her school; they probably didn't even know the name of Degrassi – let alone its location.

She sighed, pulling her coat closer as a sharp breeze cut through her. Once upon a time, not seeing her parents in the carpool lane would have upset, maybe even made her cry, and she probably would have sat on the steps for hours waiting for them until someone would get concerned and tell her to go to the office, or she'd give up the wait and head home herself. Now though, it was just natural to see them not there.

Imogen had learned over the years, way before their divorce, that she was just a mistake of a failed marriage shuffled between them every other week. It was the clichéd old tales of parents forgetting which week it was and children being neglected because their Doctor Parents where to busy being caught up in their own lives. She preferred when neither of them made promises to her, it always ended messy, with one accusing the other of it being "their turn" and "how could THEY forget HER?"

It was tiring after a while.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her ipod and put in the ear buds, then buried her hands deep into her pockets, cursing herself for forgetting mittens.

With her volume turned to max, she drowned out the sounds of her fellow students on the steps who were chanting excitedly about weekend plans and headed down the steps and across the street.

As she made her way down the sidewalk, a car horn honked, making her jump and turn to the source, and seeing who it was she pressed the pause button and pulled out the ear buds.

"Hey Moreno," Jake called from the window he opened of his truck, "want a ride?"

She bit her lip as he gave her his signature smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

"My parents always told me not to get in a sketchy man's car." She retorted.

"Well you never one for the rules, Moreno," he said easily. "Hop in; it's like a damn tundra out there."

Imogen contemplated it for another moment, her hand hesitating over the door handle, like it would burn her if she dared to touch it.

"I promise I won't take you out to the woods and ax you to death," he joked.

"So you'll take me out to the woods and murder me a different way?" she asked.

"Guess you'll have to get in and find out." He shrugged easily.

She pulled the door open and climbed in.

"Thanks," she mumbled to him as she pulled her seatbelt on.

"No problem," he said, turning the volume of the radio backup and a man with a thick accent sang about some girl who he wanted to marry, but she was with another, and she could have done better.

"Why am I not surprised that you listen to country," she said, leaning her head against the cold window, getting comfortable.

Jake laughed. "What do you have against country?"

"Everything," she said, watching the houses pass by, "My turns up here, on the left."

Instead of slowing, Jake continued to drive.

"Jake!"

"As if you really want to go home," he said playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a creep! Turn around."

But he didn't. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Jake," she hissed out slowly.

"C'mon, there's a cool place you have to see."

"Says the serial killer in every TV show," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon Moreno, where's your sense of adventure?"

She sighed. "Fine, whatever," she said, turning back to the window in defeat.

He grinned, turning up the radio some, much to her annoyance.

But Imogen couldn't deny that she was slightly curious about where he was taking her. It was kind of exciting, in a way.

He drove on, the radio switching from one song to the next, some sad, other's happy, and neither spoke a word. Jake finally pulled off the main road and down a bumpy dirt path, stopping in front of a chain link fence where the remains of a church were.

"Wow," she said sarcastically, "Laying the clichéd romance a little thick here, Martin."

Jake simply chucked, opened his door and climbed out.

She sighed and followed him.

"I got lost my first week here, and I found it by mistake. It's one of the few places where you can go and it's quiet. No traffic, no city sounds. Just the quiet sounds of nature."

Imogen would have laughed, but she knew Jake was a country boy. He hated Toronto. He was a simple guy, who wanted a quiet life out in the woods. He was on the surface very boring. But she knew better. Not that she'd ever tell him as much.

"It's pretty here," she said, looking around, which she hadn't left her sketchbook in her locker.

"Yeah," he said, looking around too.

"So is this the part where you kiss me? Or do you not want to be too cliché?" she teased, sitting down on the floor inside the ruins.

He laughed, sitting beside her. "No, no." Then he lay back, looking up at the sky. "You didn't want to go home did you?"

"Not really," she said, joining him in the cloud watch. But there were no clouds to be seen, a big promise of snow. "Sometimes I feel like neither my mom's house nor my dad's house is mine. Like I'm some burden caught between them."

"That must really suck."

"It does, sometimes. I hate it when they make promises. Neither of them can keep them, and there's always a stupid part of me that believes them. It sucks."

She didn't know why she was telling him this. But she always found herself confessing things to him. With Jake, she knew he was judging her, but he was so laidback and unmoved, that it felt safe. He was someone who got her in away. And in return to her opening up with him, he did it back. She knew certain things about him. How his mom died. About how he felt like his dad didn't care about him. How he hated being underappreciated by his dad.

They just simply understood things no one else could.

"My dad's making me go to college next year." He said sullenly.

Imogen looked over at him, but he kept his eyes on the blue, cloudless sky above.

"I'm sorry," were the only words she found to say to him.

"I am too. A lot of wasted money and time," Jake sighed. "Why won't he listen to me for a change?"

Imogen reached out to him, but suddenly Jake sat up.

"Why can't he understand that I get things? I'm smart enough to know what I want! I suck at school, and all I'll ever be good at is what I'm doing now – and it's all I want to do either way!"

"He wants what's best for you, I guess," Imogen said, and felt guilty saying it. Those were the wrong words to say, and Jake let her know it, too.

Glaring at her, he said, "No. He wants what's best for him. It's the same old, same old. And I'll end up doing what he wants because I'm the good obedient son."

Imogen frowned, looking back up at the sky, as if it'd give her the right words to say to Jake.

"Then don't go. You're great at what you do, Jake. Lots of people would hire you."

Jake snorted. "That's pretty naïve to think, Moreno."

She shrugged. "It's not like people care if you have a degree for something's. All that matters to people is if you know what you're doing, and if you're going to do the job right. Oh, and they probably like a nice price, too."

Jake snorted. "No one's going to hire a kid."

"There are more construction businesses besides your dad's, Jake. Glen Martin isn't the only construction man in Canada."

"If he ever found out –" Jake began.

"He'd regret it instantly," Imogen said, looking away from the sky and back at him. "You are great at what you do."

"And what about you, Moreno? You're still going to Savannah?" Jake asked.

"As long as I get that acceptance letter, I'll be out of this place." She said, smiling.

But Jake frowned, looking away from her. "Yeah… you'll be away."

"Aw, don't be sad, Martin. You'll still pass English with flying colors, thanks to me."

Jake snorted. "Every time you can bring up that stupid project, don't you have anything new?"

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Suddenly, something cold hit her cheek. Then another speck hit her on the nose. Snow. It was finally snowing.

Jake smiled at this. "It's not like I'd miss you. You are a pain in the ass, after all."

And they both knew he was lying. Because they both knew that they'd miss each other like hell, and both were far too proud to say it.

"Likewise, Martin," she said, smiling coyly, "Likewise."

Author's Note: How long has it been? But I've updated! Hooray for me!