Disclaimer: I do not own characters or settings from Degrassi. Just the stuff between the proper nouns.

Chapter 21: Secrets

"Okay, you are going to love me."

"Well I already love you, Marco, you just have to work to sustain that love." I smiled innocently at him as I slipped off my shoes and dropped onto the sofa next to Hip Hop. It kind of felt weird to smile. It kind of felt…normal. Not normal in a trying-too-hard way, but normal in a this-is-my-life way.

"Okay, let me rephrase," he amended. "You are still going to love me. And that's because…I got us jobs!"

"Marco, that's awesome," I congratulated him. "So what is it?"

"Grounds maintenance on campus. It'll be great – we'll get to spend some time in the sunshine, have fresh air, take breaks when we feel like it, and chat the whole time!"

"Aw, Marco," I whined. "You know sunshine makes me melt." But I was just kidding. At this point I would take what I could get. Rose thorns…shears…the blades of a lawnmower…

I shook my head quickly to clear it of the thoughts. "Nah, it, uh, sounds great, Marco. So when do we start?"

"Tomorrow. Look, I even got you these." And he tossed something at me – a pair of gardening gloves, black and red.

"Very fashionable!" Paige declared, appearing in the doorway. "Did you get me a pair, Marco?"

"No, Paige, I don't trust my own judgment when it comes to choosing clothes for you. That's something you'll always have to do on your own."

For a moment, Paige's forehead creased, then she brushed it off and flounced toward the hall closet. "By the way," she said strongly, "whose – uck – jacket is this in here?" She pulled a green coat out and wrinkled her nose as she wriggled the hanger back and forth, careful not to let it touch her. True to that, she continued, "It's been smelling up the closet at least since I've been home from New York, and when I opened the closet this morning, it was actually touching my new blazer. So? Any explanations?"

I raised a single finger in the air. "Er…it belongs to a friend of mine."

Paige did a double-take and ended up with her lips evenly pursed in disgust. Even Marco seemed surprised, I noticed. "I assumed it was Griffin's."

"Hon," Paige wheedled, "Griffin is a man. This jacket belongs to a boy."

"And who is this boy?" Marco taunted affectionately, punching my arm lightly. "Is he cute? Is he single? Is he gay?"

"Marco, you're making Hip Hop jealous," I replied, pointing to the rabbit's wiggling nose.

"That does not answer the question," Paige cut in. She took an intimidating step forward and thrust the jacket at me. "Well? Who is he?"

"Okay, Paige, don't have a cow," I said, standing and brushing the wrinkles out of the jacket. "It's just a guy I met at group."

"A 'friend'?" she persisted. "Why would you have a 'friend's' jacket? Don't usually boyfriends let their girlfriends borrow their sweatshirts and coats and other assorted warm, cozy garments that smell like them?"

As I hesitated, avoiding the question, she grabbed the jacket back from me and took a whiff. "Ugh! Smoke and booze. Like I said, it's been stinking up the closet. Get rid of it, Ellie. And I mean now. I won't have it in my closet anymore." And she thrust it back at me before stomping away up the stairs.

Marco's eyebrows were raised when I turned back to him.
"What?!" I cried.

"Booze? El…were you drinking with him?"

"No, Dad," I said sarcastically. "He was just…he was drunk one night and he called me. He needed a friend. I mean he was just really, really, really depressed."

"So why did he call you in particular? I mean, I've never even heard of the guy. You guys can't be the best of friends."

I smiled reassuringly and put my hand on Marco's shoulder. "Don't worry, Marco, he's not out to replace you. I haven't even seen him since. I had short sleeves on and it was cold when I walked home. I borrowed the jacket to walk home after he passed out. He hasn't been at group ever since; that's why it's been in the closet so long. What's up with Paige, by the way," I continued, sneakily changing the subject as I replaced the jacket in the closet. "Why does she have to get her shirt in a knot about some stupid jacket. I mean, I know clothes are her life, but really. She doesn't own this place. And we were here first."

"Yeah it's weird," Marco agreed readily. "I know she was going on about the jacket, which does admittedly fit with our usual Paigey, but ever since she got back from New York she seems to be on edge."

"Yeah, I know what you mean!" I chimed in, eager to keep the focus off of me…me and Johnny. "She's barely talked about the trip at all."

"And she's been really moody."

"Again," I laughed, "not really far from the regular Paige Michalchuk. But I got the same feeling, that something happened there that she hasn't told us about."

Marco shrugged. "Well let's keep an eye on her. She'll open up to us eventually. But meanwhile let's make sure she doesn't self-destruct."

As he spoke he looked at me meaningfully, and I knew he was "keeping an eye" on me as well. I flushed. He must know that I had been drinking with the body that had filled that green jacket. He must know that I hadn't yet opened up myself (metaphorically speaking) and that my own self-destruction was ever immanent on the horizon.

But he was treating me as though I was normal.

He smiled and pulled out a deck of cards. "Let's play," he said simply, shuffling. I sat down again and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For another few hours maybe I wouldn't have to think about the secrets I refused to tell myself.