Summary: Another day in the life of a teenager. Joan tries to juggle a "suggestion" from God, her friends, and attempts at accepting Iris in Adam's life.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from Joan of Arcadia or any songs that appear in this fic. I wouldn't mind having Christopher Marquette, though. .

Ratings: PG – just in case of swearing

AN: I just realized something in re-reading my story that I'm not sure someone noticed. Monday I had Joan, Grace and Adam going from Lischak's class to lunch. And then on Tuesday, they went to gym. So, I'm going to play it off as if it were like my school with the alternate days' schedules. . Thanks for all the reviews… Keep them coming

Joan sat at her desk in Math class, glaring at the clock that was ticking away to her doom. She still had no clue what she was going to do once the final bell blew, and she knew she had to make some fast decisions. She had thought it would have been a little easier – though not too much – but now that she had Adam's and Iris' fight on her mind, it made it worse. She felt like she was going around in circles as far as her thoughts were concerned. She muttered under her breathe, cursing time and life.

"Time and life aren't your enemy, Joan. It's what you do with each one that makes the difference. It's all about balance. Once you learn that, everything will go smoothly."

"I am sooo not in the mood for this right now. Because of your 'lesson in balance,' I've got Iris mad at me, which somehow results in Adam being mad at me. All because you can't explain things… Oh, for example, how I'm supposed to be in two places at the same time. It's easy for you to show up, spout off your mumbo jumbo, and then walk away as if all is right with the world. Well, it isn't. Not in my world." Joan whispered furiously at the Goth boy sitting beside her. He was leaning across his desk, pretending to be looking at the workbook that Joan had laid out before her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, his pierced eyebrow arching at her quiet outburst.

"Joan, when have I ever steered you wrong?" He ignored her 'are-you-serious' look, continuing on, "Everything that I do, and everything I suggest isn't meant to make your life a 'living Hell' as you seem to think it does. The reason why you feel that way, is because you are fighting against yourself. You are fighting what you can't seem to understand-"

"Thank you, Freud. Maybe if you helped me see things a bit clearer, I wouldn't have such a hard time with it. I'm sorry that I just can't accept what you 'suggest.' If you wanted me to be like that, you should have made me like that. But I'm me! And I'm afraid-" She stopped, realizing her voice had gotten louder and that the students and her teacher were staring at her with mixture of fascination and shocked looks. She blushed furiously, watching her teacher give her a pointed look. "Sorry… Um, just… you know, homework problems. Hehe… Who knew Math could be this interesting?"

"Yes… Well, kindly keep the enthusiasm to a minimum next time. Class, please continue with the assignment." With another stern look, he went back to grading the papers before him. Joan sighed, before turning towards the Goth kid, only to find him gone. She blinked, wondering where he had gone to… and was he really there to begin with? That's all she needed, people seeing her have arguments with herself. 'Great, Girardi. Set yourself up for a padded room why don't you?' With more muttering, she looked down at the workbook before her, deciding it might has well have been written in Greek for all the sense she could make out of it. She slumped down in her seat, checking the clock once more. Fifteen more minutes until her doom.

ELSEWHERE

"Do you think she'll show?"

"Who? Girardi or Cousin It?"

"Grace, yo… why do you have to diss her like that? I know you don't like her, but still… She's a great person-"

"Save it, Rove. I'm sorry that you can't handle my opinion, but it needs to be said. She's the plague. And to attack Girardi like that in the locker room. She had it coming to her."

Adam looked at Grace, wondering why she had a problem with Iris and why he wasn't bothered by Grace's insulting names. He had defended Iris out of habit, but after what he learned the previous class period, it left him confused and a bit angry. At who, he wasn't sure.

FLASHBACK

"Yo, where's Iris?"

"You uh… didn't see her? She came out before us." Joan and Grace had walked up to Adam, taking a seat on either side of him. He looked between the two girls, wondering what was going on. Grace seemed to be both fuming and gloating at the same time. The only time he had seen her like that was when she had beaten up the bully at their grade school who would always torment Adam. Joan looked confused, guilty and wouldn't look him fully. She sat there fidgeting with the hem of her gym shorts, jumping when Grace broke the quiet.

"Squeaky ran back to her hole to hide from the world. She turned psycho on Girardi in the locker room. Yo, Rove, can't you keep her locked up in her cage?"

"Woah, what happened, Jane?" Adam had only caught the middle part, ignoring Grace's usual sarcastic comments about his girlfriend. He scanned Joan, looking for signs of an attack, breathing easier when she seemed to be physically unharmed.

"Well… Grace and I got here early for once. Grace wanted to break convention or something. Anyways, when we got to our lockers, Iris was there. I swear, Adam, I didn't say anything to get her going. She just started accusing me of coming between the two of you, and blaming our lab detention on the fact that I wanted to break things up for you guys. Then she started saying something about this being an important day for her and that she needed you to be there. But I'm not sure what was important. Before I could explain, apologize or I don't know… ask her what was going on, she stormed out of the locker room. That's all I know."

Adam looked at Joan and Grace, his eyes widening as it finally dawned on him what today was. He frowned, jumping off the bleachers and racing out of the gym in search of Iris. He had to talk to her…

END FLASHBACK

The talk between him and Iris had not gone well. He tried apologizing for not realizing that today was the day that she dreaded – the day that she helped her mom convict her dad of abuse. It had been three years since she had testified at his trial and subsequently got him sentenced to 15 years with possibility of parole. She wasn't happy about the parole, but she hoped that by then she would be long gone and he would never find her. Either way, today was both a feeling of freedom, and a feeling of tragedy – to learn that the man that was supposed to love you only wanted to hurt her instead.

She told him that she was sorry for blowing up at Joan the way she did, but that she meant every word of it. She was tired to always playing second to Joan where Adam was concerned, and that if he couldn't put her first, then they shouldn't be together. In the end, she dropped the ultimatum – it was either her or Jane, but he couldn't have both. He tried to reason with her that it didn't have to be that way. What he and Jane had was different from what Iris and he had, and that he had chosen Iris instead of Joan. She smiled sadly at him, wondering how clueless he really was.

"You only chose me, because you thought you couldn't have her. If she had said yes, then you would have never noticed me. You're right, what you and Joan have is different from what we have. You two seem to have a relationship, while you and I have nothing but art. I'm sorry Adam, but you have to decide… You know where I am. See ya."

With those bitter words, she turned and walked away, her heart breaking with each step away from him. He watched her go, wondering why it felt more like a goodbye than anything else. Could he honestly chose between them? Could he lose Joan and everything that she meant to him – courage, hope, happiness? Or could he lose Iris who was there for him when Joan had seemed to turn her back on him, who had made him feel wanted, desired, more a man than a boy? Joan wanted to be that way with him, but was it because he was with Iris? Or would she want him if he wasn't with her?

"Yo, Rove. Wake up. Mrs. Goodrun is coming this way."

Adam blinked out of his depressing thoughts, and pretended to pay attention as his ancient teacher walked between Grace's and his desk while rambling on and on about some English poet. Hearing about poetry brought his thoughts once back to Iris and how she loved poetry – reading it and writing her own. He had to make a decision, and maybe today after school, things would clear up. If Joan showed up for their lab, he would have his answers.