Bren: Mr. Raditch is the principal of the middle school, is he not? Degrassi Community High School is back up and running in this story, meaning that everyone is in that school. I could be mistaken and if I am, thanks for pointing that out.

everyone else: Thank you so very much for the reviews, many of them even made me smile ear to ear. You should congratulate yourselves because that rarely happens.

Chapter Sixteen: Heart Decorated Like A Grave

"How could you have done that to him?" Ellie asks. "Do you have any idea of how much he cares about you?"

I laugh. "If that's caring I don't want to see—"

"All Marco's ever done is try to belong! He isn't like you, he actually cares about what people think of him. Not once since I've met him has he ever not stopped to wonder about what someone's going to say about what he's wearing, what he says, how he says it, or anything like that. Why can't you just stop and open your eyes? Why can't you realize that you still have feelings for him?" Ellie yells at me, her face going an off shade of red. "Don't try to deny it either. It's not hard to miss the look in your eyes when someone even mentions his name. Your eyes twinkle when he passes you in the halls or—"

"All right, Ellie! I get your point. What do you want me to do, huh? I do have feelings for him, strong bloody feelings, but for some reason I can't say what I want to say! For God-knows-how long I've been trying to say something like 'I love you, Marco, I'm sorry', but I always tell him off and act like a complete bastard!" I snap.

Ellie stares at me, wide eyed and silent. Slowly the hue of red leaves her face, her hands loosen their grip on one of her bed pillows. As if a word doesn't want to come out Ellie opens and closes her mouth, but soon she's able to squeak out. "What did you say?'

"I don't know, what did I say?" I ask, highly irritated.

"You…you love Marco?" Ellie stumbles out, her gaze not leaving my face.

I narrow my eyes. "I never said that."

Ellie nods slowly, dropping the white pillow on the floor as she stands up. She points a finger at me and finally blinks. "You do, don't you? You love Marco."

"I…."

"Oh my, God. You do love Marco!" Ellie's face goes from shock to joy. "Oh my, God. Oh my, God."

"Would you stop saying 'oh my God'?"

Ellie starts walking around in a small circle. "I'm sorry, but oh my, God."

Huffing, I cross my arms. "Would you mind telling me why you're doing that?"

"It's just a rush, y'know. I mean, you go on and on about how you hate Marco, but you love him," Ellie starts to ramble. "You should've told him this sooner. No, it actually makes perfect sense. You're acting the way you are because you love Marco, but can't seem to find a way of going about and telling him."

"Since when have you become the psychiatrist?"

Ellie holds up a hand to shush me. "You've already slept with each other—er, made love— and you're insecure about that, aren't you? Obviously it must've just happened, you two never exchanged 'I love you's' so you must think that Marco doesn't feel that way toward you. You're afraid that if you tell Marco that you love him he'll run away, that he won't say that he loves someone who's…dying. You're scared that he'll leave you—"

"Sorry to interrupt your little epiphany here, but Marco and I aren't together anymore," I state.

"Ah, but technically you two never split up."

I shake my head. "We aren't together, Ellie."

"You might as well be. I don't think you two could live without each other," she grumbles, but soon returns her voice to normal. "Give it another shot, will you? You know as well as I do that he'll jump on the chance to get you back."

Lowering my head, I stare at my hands. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be with him again…."

"Then why don't you? It's not like Marco's going to treat you like that again, he came out. And don't you go into the fact that you're dying. None of us care; you're alive and kicking to us."

"Gee. Thanks," I reply sarcastically.

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Did I mention as sarcastic as ever?" She smirks at me, her arms crossed.

I throw a pillow at her. "I'll see what I can do, okay? But I can't guarantee anything."

"As long as you try."