This is from the epsiode "She-Bop" (AKA Shout part 2). Hopefully I'll have How Soon Is Now up later today, otherwise I'll never get it done. I hope you like this one.
Once again, none of these characters or storylines belong to me. They're just completly awesome!

I walked into the bathroom, exhausted and sweaty after practice. I had put down my pom-poms and was about to splash cold watch on my face when I heard someone behind me. I looked up slowly and saw his reflection. First, the muscular forearms, the ones that held me down and for the first time, I noticed a flame tattoo on him. Then up, his chest, and finally to his face.
"Hey Spirit." He thought this was a joke. He was almost smirking when he saw my reaction.
"Dean," I asked, my voice echoing in the empty room. "What are you doing in the girl's washroom?"
"I just thought I'd say hi," he told me, full of himself. He started walking towards me.
"Okay." I said it as calmly as I could, but my voice still shook slightly.
"Relax," he said, coming even closer to me, leaning on the sink beside me. I turned to face him. "We had a good time at that party together, didn't we?"
"Dean. . . you-." I felt sick just having the smell of him near me.
"I what? I didn't do anything. We just had a good time."
He was coming even closer, pushing me into the sink. I was furious. "You raped me."
"You wanted it and don't you dare you dare tell me you wanted any different." He was pushing on my body now, leaning on me.
"No," I cried. "No, get off me." I desperately tried to push him off of me. "No, no."
Everything around me started melting away, and I opened my eyes. I gasped and turned my alarm clock off.
It was just a dream.

"Paige!" Terri called after me on my way in to school. She ran up beside me and showed me a crumpled flyer.
"Pantene Pro-Voice competition. Celebrating what women have to say," I read out loud. "Does your band have what it takes to make a splash on the music scene?"
"Now's your chance!"
"Ter, we don't have a band. "PMS broke up, remember?"
"But this is too perfect!"
"Winning band get's a demo CD," I continued out loud. "And a trip to LA?!"
"I told you."
"To perform live for record executives! This is a serious prize. This isn't like winning a towel or a movie pass. Terri, we could move to LA."

Later, in Media Immersion, I entered us into the competition.
"PMS could totally win this," I said confidently.
"With. . . Ash, we'd have a better chance.
"Not in this band."
Ah, saved by the bell. "Have a good day gang," Mr. Simpson called out, thereby officially signalling the end of class.
"But we need a real singer," she said as I picked up my bag.
"Fine." I got up and putting my hand on Hazel's chair. "Meet Hazel Spice," I told her, spinning Hazel around. "Newest member of the new improved PMS reunion tour.
"Are you serious?" she asked hopefully. I nodded. She stood up and sung a few shaky lines of Amazing Grace.
"La la la la la la la. La la la la la la la," Hazel was trilling when I got into the gym after school for rehearsal.
"Hazel?" I asked, annoyed. " Must you?"
"Sorry I'm late. I wanted to get in the mood." I turned around and saw Terri in a sparkly top and huge sun glasses.
"You wore that last year. And, uh, cheesy pop chicks are over. Why do you have to be so out of touch?"
"Why do you have to be so mean?" she asked.
"I'm not mean. I'm right. So. . . new wardrobe."
"No."
"Pardon?"
"What didn't you get? I said no."
"Ter. . ." Hazel began.
"Paige doesn't understand that word. Never has."
"You better stop right there." I warned. I understood the word no. I understood it all too well. And I knew what happened when someone ignored you when you said no about something important.
"Look. We all want to win, so let's calm down and rehearse, okay? Paige? Ter?"
Terri and I begrudgingly agreed. Hazel pressed a button the keyboard, and a pop tune started.
"I wish I knew just what to do yeah. To make this secret wish come true, yeah."
Terri and I had started playing, but I stopped after that. She was off beat and off key. I couldn't take this much longer.
"Uh, Paige, what are you doing?" she asked.
"This isn't working." I told them and walked out. I knew what I had to do.

When I walked up to her door, I could hear her singing and playing the piano. I knocked on the door, and the music promptly stopped. A minute later, she opened the door.
"What are you doing here?"

"I can't believe you're even asking," was all she could say after I explained our situation.
"We need you. It's embarrassing."
"Oh no. Can't let that happen. Poor Paige."
I ignored her sarcasm. "Your poem is great, okay. It's about something real and it made me think." I was referring to a poem she had written in English class.
"It doesn't matter. It's going to end up just like last year."
"It won't. I promise."
"I wanted to take it seriously. But you guys wouldn't."
"We cheesed out. But this time we need to thing about real stuff."
"Like what?"
"Like, how it feels when you're dumped. Or, like, abuse. Pain. Feeling sad. Whatever you want. Just so long as it mean something."
"This doesn't sound like Paige."
"Without you, we don't have a chance."
"Do you seriously thing we have a chance?"
"You know what? I do." And I meant it. I smiled. Ash followed suit.

"We have lyrics?" I asked the next day at lunch.
"We do. I just finished them this morning. And I printed out you guys new copies in media immersion."
"Ooh, sneaky girl." I joked.
"Melody's the same, but the words are way more powerful."
"It's kind of heavy," Hazel said after reading them quickly.
"Well, yeah. It's about rape. Paige said last night "Let's make it real". My poem was okay, but I did some research on-line. Did you know that by the time that girls reach university, one in four has been sexually assaulted?"
"'You took my body and tore it in half.' This really isn't working for me." Dean had taken my body and torn it in half. It was exactly what happened with me, but I didn't want to tell everyone about it. I couldn't let them know that I was the 'Poor Thing'.
"But the stories are incredible. From girls our age. You wouldn't believe some of the things I read."
"Let's use the original lyrics, okay?" I asked, trying desperately to stay calm. I wanted to yell at her, and crawl in a ball in cry.
"This is way more interesting."
"I agree," Terri added.
"I don't really care. I like the other version better."

I settled for the second choice. The Media Immersion room, which was my next class. I heard Ashley walk in behind me. I quickly wiped my face.
"You wanna win, right?" she asked.
"Not with those lyrics."
"I wrote exactly what you asked me to. Something real. But you're asking just like last year."
"Give it up Ashley, okay?"
"Tell me what's wrong with the lyrics, and I will." She raised her voice just as people started piling in.
"Singing a song about rape will not win the contest."
"I though we had an agreement."
"I said something real, not something you got off the net and know nothing about."
"I'm allowed to imagine!"
"No, you're not!" We both stopped when we realised that the whole class was watching us. I took a deep breath and continued softly. "After school, in the music room. Bring the right lyrics."

"It happens to other people. You say how sad, you say poor thing. But when it's you, it's something else. It's everything. Friends you loved, and thought you knew, just disappear." Ash was practising as Terri and Hazel came in. Hazel held up a sign saying 'I can't sing'.
"Hon, you're not that bad," I told her honestly.
She made a face and turned the sign over. The word 'Polyps' was written on the other side. Terri tied to pronounce it.
"Polyps," she said in a strained whisper. "Over-practice."
"But we go on tomorrow," Terri whined.
"Ash, you're singing solo."
"Awesome! Sorry Hazel." Started the music. "One, two, three, four. You took my body, and tore it in half. You took my childhood, my heart and my laugh."
I stopped playing. "How many times do I have to say it? We're not using those lyrics!"
"Paige, if I'm singing, those are the lyrics we'll perform."
"No! I can't believe I wanted you back in this band!" I stormed angrily out of there.

"The song is stronger. Anyone with half an emotion would know that!"
She had found me at my locker. I didn't want to deal with her anymore.
"What do you know about rape?"
"I researched it. I know a lot more about it than you do."
I slammed my locker door and sunk to the floor. I started sobbing softly.
"Paige?"
"Just leave me alone."
"I. . . I had no idea." She sat down beside me. "I'm so sorry."
"Nobody knows. Only Hazel. I keep trying to forget, but. . . I can't. He's in my nightmares."
"Have you been to a doctor?"
"He wore a condom. Very thoughtful, huh?"
"What about a counsellor?"
"I can't. Okay? I just, I can't. And I can't play that song. I know it's a better version but-"
She put her arm around me. "Shh. It's okay. We'll play the other one. It's okay. It's okay, it's okay. It's going to be okay Paige." She just held me while I cried.

"Welcome to the Pantene Pro-Voice Competition," the announcer boomed. Ashley, Terri Hazel and I were getting ready to go onstage.
"You look totally gorgeous." Ash told me. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I promise."
"I am so nervous," Terri said, coming over to us.
"Don't sweat it. We'll be fine."
"Uh-uh. We'll be great. Original lyrics and all," Ashley reminded.
"And now, a group from Degrassi. Give it up for PMS."
"Let's go do it," Terri said with a grin. The four of us walked onstage.
"Alright. We are PMS and this is Poor Thing," Ash said to the crowd and started the music. I started my guitar rift when I saw him.
Dean was here.
In the front row
Looking straight at me. I froze. I walked backwards, and turned to Ash.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"He's here."
"Who?"
"Him. I can't." I looked back into the crowd. Dean grinned and winked at me. I looked back at Ash. I had to do something. Dean and I hadn't had a good time, and what he did wasn't alright. It was time he knew that. I turned around and spoke into the microphone.
"It- it happens to other people. You say how sad. You say poor thing. But when it's you, it's different. It's everything." I strummed my guitar and started singing, glaring at Dean. You'll never believe the nightmare. You'll never now the pain you caused. You'll never see the scars, you left."
Behind me, a very confused Terri, Hazel and Ash finally caught on. They picked up the music from where I was. "The things you stole. Everything was lost. You took my body. Tore it in half." Dean got up. He knew exactly what I was saying. He knew what He had done was wrong, and I Was singing to him. I finally smiled. "You took my child hood, my heart and my laugh. You took everything except for myself. And then you're gone. I'm not you're poor thing. You took my body. Tore it in half. You took my child hood, my heart and my laugh. You took everything except for myself. And then you're gone. I'm not you're poor thing. Poor thing." The crowd was into, Terri and Ash were singing back-up. We sounded great. But that wasn't the important thing. Dean couldn't convince himself that I had agreed to do what he had done. He knew he was wrong. And I finally knew it myself.

"I guess those California beach boys will have to wait," Hazel said sadly Monday morning.
"You know. LA's really not that great. It's all like mini-malls and freeways," Ash told us.
"You were robbed!" Elie exclaimed from behind us. "I can't believe you only got a honourable mention."
"Really?" I asked. "You liked it?"
"Paige, you were awesome. Truly."
"You know, she was right though," Ash told her. "A song about rape will never come first."
"Especially not when I'm singing it." Everyone but Ash left. We stopped outside of the guidance office.
"So, you okay?"
"I'm ready to talk. Well, as ready as I'll ever be."