Heeeeeeeeeeey, guys. (: This is Eli's p.o.v. I may continue with him for a while. maybe not though. (: Anyways, I want to thank everyone for the positive feedback. I feel so loved. :D Please keep reviewing. (: So, just thought I'd say it. I wanna be a writer when I grow up. Think I should be? lemme know! I don't own anything. /: Who else wishes they owned (or even knew) Eli? I know I doooo.

Chapter 10: Eli's pov

Loud, angry music blears from my radio. The whole car shakes with each ballad of despondency. Each power cord drives me deeper into numbness. I can't handle my thoughts right now. Or rather trust them. They all lead me back to… The grip on my steering wheel tightens. Stop. Thinking. About. It. My jaw sets irately and I turn the music louder. Please, I beg, take me to my numb state. I need it. The music courses through me, sending a deadened wave of emotion over everything.

Beautiful eyes… Beautiful eyes wide with alarm and dismay. They shattered like stain glass with every word I spoke. I had to say them. Had to push her away. The look on her face is one I'll never forget. Just like… My grip on the steering wheel turns deadly. Why isn't the music working!

My gaze turns to the empty seat next to me. Clare isn't there, but I can picture her there perfectly: the curls of her hair springing wildly against the window, blue eyes intently focusing on my face, a small curve to her seductive lips as she managed to say something snarky. It's like she's still right there, my beautiful girlfriend – er, EXgirlfriend. Then it begins to fade, too quickly. Her shape begins morphing into someone I'd almost forgotten about. Someone I don't want to remember.

I tear my gaze away from the seat, cranking the music to full volume. I'm like the emo gangster whose music makes people's houses shake. Not that parents' don't all ready complain about me. I mean, try showing up to someone's house with more makeup then their daughter wears. Aaaawkward. I focus on the lyrics and try not to find the meaning behind them. Besides, if I drift into my own thoughts any longer I'll lose my lead on Clare.

Okay, yeah, I'm kinda stalking her right now. Okay, so, you can't kinda stalk someone. I'm just…observing her movements to make sure she has a safe journey. Hey! At least I'm not climbing in her window and watching her sleep. I shudder at the thought, thankful we're even close in age. Clare has been walking for at least three miles now. She seems to have accomplished to numb state, I think enviously.

I must have really done some damage because she doesn't even seem to know where she's going. We've passed her house, most of the stores in Degrassi, and now the Dot. Hatred and self-loathing knots in my stomach. God, I'm such an ass. But…if I'd been any easier on her, she would have kept trailing me. Then I wouldn't have been able to stay away from her.

I tense as she starts crossing a busy intersection. The cars speed past her, blaring their horns. She doesn't seem to notice. Like a sleep-walker, she places one foot daintily out onto the street. My heart is hammering like the beat of the drum in this song. A truck is coming full speed her way. She doesn't do so much as flinch. Holy shit! "C'mon, Clare. Move." I mumble, sending my urging thoughts her way.

Sadly, I haven't mastered that section of the "How to Be a True Goth" handbook yet. I jiggle Morty's handle, cursing myself for not getting the damned thing fixed. My eyes grow wide at the morose flashback. It's almost the exact same thing. The fight, the running away, the car; I can't have this happen again. "CLARE! DAMMIT, MOVE!" I scream, voice drowned out by the screams from my radio. I tug desperately on Morty's door. Open, you damned thing!

A hooded figure swoops into the street, reminding me of a super hero. He picks up the damsel in distress and takes her out of the wrath of the dragon (well, the semi-truck). The build, the floppy preppy boy hair, it's so familiar. It has to be KC. Heat sears my cheeks, leaving uselessness and foolishness in its path. Of course. Of course he would save her. Shaking my head, I drive away. She's in good hands now.

I look through the comic book store, adrenaline pumping. Pictures of men clad in tights stand on the covers in this "Yeah-I'm-cool-as-hell" pose. Their muscles bulge under the spandex and they have big grins on their faces. Behind them is a girl who is incredibly disproportionate (if you get what I'm saying) clutching her hands to her chest in awe. I can't help but roll my eyes and keep going. It's so corny.

A picture of a girl is on the next cover. Her eyes take up most of her face and she has a small mouth popped open with fear. My mind drifts to Clare's face in the headlights. Wincing, I fish my headphones out of my pocket. Unlike some people, I use music to escape life. Music and comics, I'm cool. I just find that the louder and angrier the music, the calmer and more distant I become. Hey, it's weird but it's not killing me.

Shaking my head, I scan to the next comic. I've read all of these before. I turn to the fat teen at the counter. His face is red with acne and his hair is slicked back, thinning into a rat tail. He has a mean scowl on his face like he'd rather be anywhere else, but we both know he loves it here. "Hey!" He jumps and drops the action figure he was messing with. "When are you getting a new shipment of comics?"

His face puckers into a scowl before looking over a sheet of paper. "We'll have them out by Friday." Impatience is thick in his voice. I roll my eyes and go back to looking.

Clare and KC have been in the mall for an hour now. What the hell could they be doing for so long? Shopping, idiot, some mental voice explains. I frown, angry. Well, of course they're shopping. That's not my problem. They're in there together. Couples go to the mall. So do friends, stupid. The voice speaks again. It sounds so much like…

Okay, I'm not jealous. Well, I'm super jealous. But I made a choice in giving Clare up. It's better for both of us. I need to keep that in mind. I repeat it as the seconds tick by, wearing on my patience. After thoroughly tearing the rack of comics apart, I make my way for the next, only to have Tubby stop me.

"Are you gonna buy something or not?" His voice is whiny and high pitched. He's scratching at a pimple on his chin. Wincing, he scratches it off, wiping at the small dab of blood. "'Cause you can't just stand around here all day." I hide a grimace as he inspects the blood before shrugging and wiping it on his pants. Gross.

I shrug. "Fine," I shove past him and go to the door, just as Clare bursts from the mall. Her eyes are red and she looks a mess. I fight the urge to go to her and hug her. What happened? I swear if he tried to do something with her…

I leave the store and go to Morty once Clare is down the street. I'm not going to stalk her. She seems, although distressed, pretty aware. As I curse Morty's door again, a hand grips my shoulder. Expecting it to be the fatty, I turn to mouth off. Only I get a mouth full of fist. The bitter, metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

Prep boy wonder, or KC, is behind the fist. My eyes narrow as I pick him up by his collar. He looks highly pissed off. There's a wild fire brewing behind his eyes. "What the hell," I exclaim, shoving him into the back of the comic store. There really isn't a reason for him to be fighting me. And if this is because of what I said to Clare, it's none of his business.

KC swings again but I dodge, grabbing his fist. He looks shocked for a second before narrowing his eyes in anger. Guess I'm not getting an answer. I spit the blood that filled my mouth on his shoe. Throwing his fist away, I knee him in the gut. He lets out a moan of pain, clutching his stomach and falling to the ground.

Anger coils within me, like a snake ready to strike. I give the jock a second to get back up. Quick as lighting, he grabs my collar and throws me down. My back burns from the asphalt. He straddles my stomach and meets my face with a fury of punches. The angered snake hisses from somewhere within me. I'm so pumped with adrenaline, I can't feel the pain.

I get a good punch to KC's cheek. He falters for a second, giving me enough time to change positions. I clutch his leg and throw him to the ground as he rises. Picking up a trash can, KC throws it at me. I stumble back, tripping. He manages to get on me again, pinning me down. He throws punches at my side, each with more conviction than the last.

I manage to push him off and charge him against the wall. His head hits and I wince at the loud thud it makes. He slumps, a lifeless doll in my hands. Setting him down, I call the ambulance and give them his location before driving away. I look myself over in Morty's mirror. My lip and eye is starting swell and my side burns. Oh, yeah, I'm gonna look hot on Monday.