AN: Wow. Another part and it is the one where it all goes wrong. And I was amazed that the last part was 13 pages, well this one is 16. It seems that each part gets a little bit longer and this series is 12 parts long so I am scared that if I continue like this, at how long part 12 will be.
I really want to finish this before the new season starts. I don't want to be influence by what happens, since it obviously deals with Paige's trial. So blah, I need to get writing more and stop with all the one-shots. Though I really kinda want to continue the Jay-Marco friendship thingy. Meh.
Disclaimers: No owny Degrassi: TNG (do I really need to keep typing this, seven parts in?) nor Star Trek: Voyager or Pokemon.
Part 7: Dreams
All the dreams,
We built up from the ground,
They never believed them,
They just tore them down...
- "From the Heart"
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Through her earphones, Paige Michalchuk became aware of a knocking on her bedroom door.
Lifting one earpiece up, she listened again.
Sure enough, there came another slight knock.
"Come in." It couldn't be her brother, unless he suddenly developed a privacy gene within the last
24 hours, because he tended to just barge into any room, regardless if the occupant was decent or
not.
The door opened to reveal their new house-mate, Marco del Rossi. He hovered in the doorway as
if he wasn't sure if he really was welcomed inside her room.
Removing the headphones and turning off her CD player, she motion for him to come in all the
way. "Shut the door behind you." she told him, for her brother was still lurking about, just ready
to burst into her room unexpectedly; the probability of a Dylan arrival was higher now that his
boyfriend was in the room.
Boyfriend. That was strange.
But cute in a way.
"What's up Marco?" she asked as the other boy continued to stand awkwardly just inside her
room.
He was looking around at her posters and clothes that seemed to be strewn everywhere.
"I thought you'd be cleaner." he remarked as he eyed a bra on the carpet.
She laughed, partly in embarrassment, but not bothering to remove the undergarment from its
(rightful in her mind) place on the floor. "Yeah, well you thought wrong. So what brings you
here?"
Once again she motioned for him to come closer and join her on the bed. With Marco, she felt
safe. It was almost like the same feeling she had with her brother. It didn't bother her that there
she was, lounging on her bed, make-upless, with her hair haphazardly pulled back in a sloppy
ponytail, wearing a tank top with a bunny rabbit on it, Degrassi athletic pants (complete with
holes in the seams), and blue fuzzy slippers that read NEW YORK NEW YORK on them. If it
had been Spinner, she would have felt embarrassed or she would have carefully chosen a pajama
set that would have at least matched and looked a little sexy.
Not like the dumpy one she was currently sporting.
But she knew that Marco wasn't about to hit on her as soon as he sat down the edge of the bed
and that was a nice change when hanging out with members of the opposite sex.
"I just wanted to tell you something." he sounded a bit nervous to her but she didn't know if it
was because he was sitting on her bed, in her room, or if had something to do with what he was
going to tell her.
"What, hon?"
"It sounds cheesy, but," he took a breath, "but I admire you."
Paige sat up a little straighter and pulled her pillow up into her lap. "What? Why?"
"Dylan told me what happened with you and that Dean guy. And all you went through? The way
you handled it? You were amazing, Paige."
She actually felt her face heat up. That was the sweetest thing any guy had ever told her without
some ulterior motive. "Thank you, Marco. I'm just sorry that you are going to have to be dragged
into this."
"Dylan, in one of those testosterone-induced moments of macho-bravado, vowed that, well lets
use the term that he used: no 'goddamned, sneaky, conniving, slime coated slugs, who should
have been left to die when they were born, rapist supporting, defense snake-lawyers' were ever
going to talk to me." Marco seemed to relax a bit more as he let out a small laugh. "You brother
has a way with words."
"He can get just slightly overprotective sometimes. I can't imagine the rage he'd be in if Dean
would have done something to his car instead of me."
"Oh we'd still be going to trial, just it would be a murder trial and Dylan would be the defendant."
"No kidding." Paige smiled. "But really, Marco, thank you for telling me that. It means a lot to
me."
Marco pulled her other pillow into his lap, "No problem. I really mean that too."
"Thanks. Now speaking of my brother and his oh-so-uncontrollable burst of emotion, didn't know
that you two were an item." Paige felt herself slip into super-gossip mode.
"Uh, me neither. At least I wasn't sure until Dylan opened his big mouth."
"Oh c'mon, it's cute."
"If you say so."
"Where is that creep anyway? And why are you hanging out with the female Michalchuk instead
of the male version?"
Marco laughed and rolled his eyes, looking more like the pre-parental problem Marco that she
remembered. "Oh I was with him for the past several hours, but you see, there is this Star Trek:
Voyager marathon on and I can't seem to get his attention."
Paige blinked. "He is watching Star Trek and leaving his boyfriend to hang out with his sister?"
she shook her head. "He certainly didn't learn his dating habits from me, that's for sure."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think that he had a crush on the captain. But on this Star Trek, the
captain is female."
Paige laughed and rolled her eyes. "I am in no way, related to that freak that is currently sitting in
front of a TV watching some dork show."
Marco tilted his head thoughtfully, "I don't know, it's kind of cute."
"Cute that my brother is a complete nerd?" Paige scoffed. "I think not."
"It could be worse. He could be secretly into Pokemon or something more dorky than that."
Paige smiled at her newfound roommate, "Thank god for small favors, huh?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma Nelson opened her locker to find the same picture that haunted her of her loss friendship, in
plain view. Once again she had forgotten to take it out of her locker.
She suppressed a groan that wanted to be let out as she slammed her locker shut as soon as she
opened it.
This school morning that feeling of dread around it that usually signified a bad day. When the
morning felt this bad already and first period hadn't even begun, then she knew things were just
going to go downhill from there.
As she spun away from her locker she came face to face with the same person that was in the
picture imprisoned in her locker.
Manny Santos stood there, dressed in a much more toned down outfit from the other day. But it
wasn't the fact that Manny's stomach was covered by a tasteful jacket that threw her off, but
instead it was the lack of hatred on her face.
"Manny?"
"Em', I just wanted to say, I'm sorry." Manny took a deep breath, "I totally overreacted."
Emma was surprised at this turnaround. "Uh, it's okay, Manny."
Manny smiled and Emma was reminded of all the fun times that they use to have together. And from
the look on Manny's face, she seemed to remember the times too.
"Hey, Em'? Do you want to hang out tonight? We could binge on Ben &Jerry's and popcorn, watch
some Disney movies and talk about our favorite rock stars."
Emma smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Cool, I'll come over at 7 tonight."
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"So Del Rossi, you gonna tell us what the hell happened yesterday?" it was actually Craig
Manning who asked the question that had plagued the other members of Downtown Sasquatch
throughout the morning classes.
Marco had just stepped into the cafeteria with his bagged lunch hanging at his side. To Craig, it
seemed like a sign that just maybe, his suspicions were incorrect.
The question seemed to jolt Marco out of the self-induced daze that he had been walking with.
"Uh, what was that guys?" he asked as he hesitantly joined his friends at their usual table.
Jimmy laid it out for him. "Yesterday. Paige's brother comes in, flippin' out, only to have you
equally flip out on us, all leading to the dramatic revelation that you got your self a boyfriend."
Jimmy half smiled. "What gives? What's been going on?"
Craig watched as Marco stalled answering by pulling out and setting up his food. For a minute
Craig was distracted by the neatly printed labels on the food items that struck a familiar cord in
him memory.
He idly noticed that Spinner, too, had seen the writing and was looking at them in interest.
"Well, Dyl' was worried about Paige and me, and him being the way he is, he hurried over there
to see exactly how we were doing."
"And why was he worried?" Craig pressed. Spinner was now looking away from the
conversation, which meant that he already knew what was going on. How did that happen? And
why hadn't he shared the information?
"He was uh...worried...because-"
"He was worried because my rape case was going to trial." Paige Michalchuk appeared at
Spinner's side looking more than slightly annoyed.
Craig and Jimmy stared at her in shock. So that's what the bad thing was. He had known that
something real bad had gone down last year but he didn't realize how bad. He had thought that it
had been a bad break up, at worst the guy from Bardell had hit her or something (which would
explain her intense hatred for Rick, besides from the obvious) but not actually rape.
Paige sat down between Spinner and Marco and pulled out her own lunch. It looked like Marco
and Paige wanted to avoid the 'Around the World' cafeteria lunch today, it was Japan after all,
and Sheila's sushi was pretty terrifying.
"Yeah, I was raped." she said to the two stunned expressions. "And now I am fighting back and
lawyers are involved so I really can't talk much about it."
"I understand," Jimmy shook his head sadly, looking like he was still reeling. "Man, that is heavy.
How are you holding?"
"Been better." she admitted. "But now I am after him, not the other way around. So that makes
things a little better." she opened up her sandwich baggy.
It was then that it hit Craig. The familiar labels on Marco's lunch were the same labels that Paige
would have on her food whenever she decided to forgo the caf's food. All of Craig's suspicions
were back at full force.
He couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to ask.
"Marco are you staying at Paige's house?" he blurted out.
It was Paige and Marco's turn to look shocked. "What?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.
Spinner looked hard at the matching lunches and then understood where Craig was going. Craig
realized that Spinner had known of his girlfriend's rape, his friend's now not so single status, but
not the new living arrangement. "Honeybee?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow of his own.
Marco sighed and gestured with his hand to Paige. "They are gonna find out sooner or later, you
can go ahead and tell them." he whispered.
Paige nodded slightly, seeming to understand why Marco couldn't tell them for himself. "Look,
guys, keep it quiet but, yes. Marco is living with me and Dylan for the immediate future."
Craig sat there, with his lunch momentarily forgotten. This was quickly becoming the Lunch of
Revelations; if the lunch when Ashley announced Manny's pregnancy was the same as this one,
then he'd pass out with all this information.
"Why are you staying there?" Spinner demanded.
"My parents kicked me out." Marco's voice had taken on that dead tone that he had been
adopting for the past couple of days.
"Why?" Craig asked.
Marco met his eyes and though it was a serious subject, he had a slight 'duh' look in his eyes.
"Because I'm gay." he responded with a tone loaded with gallows humor.
Jimmy looked pissed off. "But what in the hell?" he shook his head in anger. "How the hell could
they justify that for kicking you out?"
Craig realized that out of all of Marco's male friends, Jimmy had been the one to first immediately
accept his sexuality and was the one to found him on the night of his bashing. Just mentioning
bashers would get a bigger rise out of Jimmy than Marco or Dylan. Craig remembered that night
as well, getting that phone call from Jimmy, telling the rest of them that he was with Marco and
the cops. Paige had been so out of her mind, worried, while Spinner had been silent with warring
emotions.
Of course they didn't know that Marco had been beaten because he was gay, instead Marco had
told them that he had been jumped for his shoes.
They all had been worried nonetheless.
Even Spinner.
And they all didn't really believe the shoe story either, not off of Church street.
Even Spinner.
Marco just looked tired. "My parents come from a different country, not to mention a different
era. To them, I'm a sinner heading straight to hell and I bring shame onto the Del Rossi name.
According to their beliefs, I should have stopped using that name now and just go by Marco."
Craig nodded and looked at his glass of water on the table. "Things get a little bit clearer."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ellie Nash opted to stay home and wait for any word on her father instead of going to school and
leaving a call from the Middle East up to chance. Trusting her drunken mom to relay information
was like playing Russian Roulette and she didn't want to take those slim odds.
So there she was laying on her floor staring at the way her hand curled up into a slight fist. It
wasn't the most exciting thing she could be doing (maybe reading up on the Berlin Wall and its
reasons for construction for the history project would have been more productive) but this was all
the activities that she had energy for.
The urge to just reach over for the razor blade that was hidden on the lip of wood behind her desk
or open her backpack for the compass was growing with every minute she laid there staring at her
hand.
She couldn't call Sean or Marco at this time. They were both in school. And she didn't want to
burden Marco anymore; if she were in his place, she'd be slicing her arms open in record time and
that was a scary thought for how he was dealing.
But enough of Marco, was there going to be any word on her father?
She hated not knowing for sure. He could be doing fine, and her mom exaggerated, or he could
have died for all she knew. This uncertainty was killing her.
But she did not move from the floor.
Even though her gaze was on her hand, it was like she was always aware of the compass and the
razor's location. Their proximity was burned into her mind.
Why have things gotten so hard.
With each year, things had become progressively harder to bear. She could actually look back on
the 'good old days' like she was already eighty years old and longed for the days when she and
Marco use to play tag at their elementary school or at the park while their parents discussed pasta
recipes. She could always run faster than Marco but he knew all the best hiding places so that
when they played hide and go seek, she'd be 'it' for hours trying to find him. Then when 'Make
Believe' was the popular game of choice, her house was the best because of all her father's army
clothes and her mother's fine dresses and pearls that were reminiscent of a time in the 1950s. It
was funny, but now that she thought of it, she could remember a time when they had switched
roles for one afternoon and she had geared up in her dad's fatigues and Marco had on her
mother's nice sweater and pearls. Looking back at that, when Marco's dad had driven over to
pick his son up and saw what they were doing, (her dad had thought it was adorable and snapped
a picture, which she still had somewhere) Mr. Del Rossi had flipped out and dragged the little boy
out of the house , scolding him in Italian all the way. After that Marco never wanted to play
'Make Believe' again.
She felt so old. But in all reality, she wasn't and that scared her.
When had she become the parent in this household?
Her mother had been up before she had, drinking the morning away. She had consumed an entire
bottle of vodka before Ellie had even climbed out of bed and made her way into the kitchen for
some breakfast. She never asked her daughter why she wasn't going to school that day, and
instead choosing to wander into the kitchen, herself, just to grab another bottle. She had never
even acknowledged Ellie at all.
Ellie had ignored her mother as well, it was pointless to try to
even strike up a conversation and
by the rate she was going, she was going to be passed out by 10 am.
Leaving Ellie to clean up the puke and the empty bottles strewn everywhere.
So she had gone to her room and laid down on the floor and didn't bother to move for hours.
Waiting for a phone call.
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Dylan Michalchuk had never been so happy to get home from school as he did that day. The
weekend was slowly approaching and he was thanking all gods that there were that it was
Thursday which meant that he just had to survive tomorrow before it was a two-day binge of
lounging around doing exactly jack-crap.
He knew a certain couch that had his name on it with a remote that was going to surgically
attached to his hand and no one, not even his mom with a plate of her famous kielbasa and eggs
was going to move him. (He could always eat those said kielbasa and
eggs from the couch and
with one hand)
Not to mention that it was only a couple more weeks of Degrassi and then he was free! He smiled
at that thought and collapsed back onto his bed, once again in a slightly uncomfortable position
but being the person that he was, he didn't bother to move.
The more and more he was thinking of what was beyond Degrassi and the more the idea of taking
a year off of school seemed really good. That was, if no scout from some really prestigious
hockey school wanted his talented self and offered him a full ride, then he'd taking a year off to
practice hockey more and work to save money. (and stay with Marco)
Speaking of said boyfriend, where the hell was he? And way was he laying here on his bed all
alone and thinking to himself?
Getting himself up, which was quite an effort, he headed to the guest room which was really
becoming Marco's room. He poke his head in without knocking, (Paige tried to get him to break
his no-knocking habit but he couldn't help it) but it didn't matter because Marco wasn't in there.
So he spun around and headed in the other direction, Paige's room.
"Paige have you've seen Marco?" he stopped as he opened the door and took in the sight in front
of him.
Paige and Marco were lounging on her bed flipping through some teen magazines. They both
looked up at his barging in.
"Dyl'!" uh-oh, Paige sounded mad. "Don't you even knock?"
"Paige, you're my sister, plus female, therefore if you had been changing in here, I wouldn't have
been bothered. Slightly disturbed but that is all. Did I mention you are my sister." he leaned
against the door frame. "What are you two doing?"
"Discussing the merits these 'Totally Hot Hotties of 2004'" Marco dead panned as he idly flipped
another page in the magazine.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "There is something seriously wrong with you checking out guys with
my sister."
Paige laughed. "Oh c'mon, we check out guys together all the time, why is it any different with
Marco? He has better taste in my book."
"Damn straight he does. He has me." Cue big cheesy smug grin. "And that answers your question.
It is different because I am dating him. No gossiping with my sister."
"Oh but she was just telling me how you still sleep with your baby blanket." Marco looked across
the bed at Paige, "What does he call it again? Binky?"
"Paige!" Dylan growled. His sister was so dead.
"So it's true?" Marco actually squealed with incredulity. "You still have it?"
The big cheesy smug grin was gone and not it was time for Dylan's evil death glare 'o doom. But
Paige had seen that look before and didn't look afraid. "You are going to die soon, Michalchuk."
he hissed at her before turning to Marco. "Yeah, so?" he tried not to sound so pouty but it
couldn't be avoided. His pride had just been stepped on, spit on, trashed, and brow-beaten into
submission.
Marco sat back on his elbows and smiled. "So, it's cute. I still have my stuffed dog Benji." a
faraway look passed over his eyes. "Well, I did. He is still at my parent's house. So I don't know
for sure what happened to him."
They were all silent for a minute until they heard Mr. Michalchuk get home from work.
"Dylan, Paige, Marco! I'm home!" they heard him call. It was strange to hear Marco's name in
the familiar after-work call.
"Hi dad!" all three chorused, earning a laugh from Mr. Michalchuk as he climbed the stairs.
"What are you three doing in there?" he joined Dylan in the doorway.
"Paige was just telling Marco about some of the less-than savory aspects of my home-life." Dylan
rolled his eyes.
"You mean about Binky?"
"Da-ad!" Dylan threw his hands up in disgust. "I get no privacy it this house!" he stormed off
back to his room with Paige and Marco's giggles following him.
"This coming from the son who has an aversion to knocking on doors?" he heard his father call
after him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Craig Manning was ready to give up on studying for the night. Being in the same room, admitting
it was a garage, with Ashley Kerwin was enough to make one's mind wander. Not to mention it
still felt like he was reeling from today's lunch.
"So America agreed to the SEATO thing. Which was one of their 'reasons' for entering the
Vietnam conflict." Ashley read out loud while marking some notes down.
He continued to stare off into space.
"Craig? Are you even trying to get any information down?" Ashley had that annoyed tone to it.
"Huh? Oh sorry." he reached across the table to pull a book towards him under a pretense of studying.
"Craig are you okay?" Ashley looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. The annoyance was gone
from her voice, but the strange concern was going to be the end of him.
When had the hatred disappeared?
"I- no." he sighed and pushed the book away again. "Listen, Ash, I just need to tell you something,
and I want to you be kind in your vicious rebuttal which I am certain is coming as soon as I close
my mouth."
"Stop babbling and just tell me, then you'll get my reaction."
"Ash, I miss you." Craig dropped his eyes to the ground as he refused to see the look of mocking that
was sure to be in her eyes. He had felt those words building up every minute he spent not fighting
with Ashley but now he was a loser to let them out.
Oh crappy mc-crap crap.
Ashley didn't respond for a few moments, which seemed to stretch on for forever. But then he felt her
move to lean over close to him. She pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and whispered in his ear.
"I missed you too."
Craig pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. "Ash, I am so sorry, I didn't want to ever hurt you."
She was smiling. "There. You meant it."
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Ellie Nash didn't bother to get up for any dinner that night. Her mother was still passed out on the
couch and the smell of the alcohol that permeated throughout the house turned her stomach, making
any possible choice for dinner unappetizing.
There had been no phone call.
She had tried not to break down and cry, because that was all she felt like doing, she needed to be
the strong one. Her mom was in no shape to take that role. But it was getting too hard.
She didn't know what to do.
Calling anyone was still not an option; she didn't want to tie up the lines in case her father called. But
it was growing late and the possibility of that phone call grew dimmer with every tick of her wall
clock.
The house was hopelessly quiet, the puking had ended earlier and she didn't bother to put any TV on,
so Ellie was left with the buzzing of her own thoughts.
Why hadn't there been a call?
Was daddy okay?
Is he alive?
I thought things were getting better...
In an instance everything shattered and she pulled herself upright. Feeling detached, she stuck her
hand inside the crack between the wall and her desk and found the hidden razor blade. The
disconnection between mind and arm continued as she placed the edge to the underside of her forearm.
But she hesitated; breaking the moment.
She knew that Suave still checked her arm on her weekly visits and were her messed of thoughts really
worth the drama that would follow the discovery? Sean would know and no matter how much he denied
that the scars didn't bother him, she was sure a freshly bleeding scab would.
Her fingers twitched on the slim sheet of metal.
And brought the edge down on the exposed skin of her right thigh, just below the hem of her pajama
shorts.
When will I know what happened?
Will daddy die?
Is he already gone?
Why can't this all be a dream?
It is funny, blood never poured out with a razor, it always just beaded up. Like red constellations on
a white sky.
But the stars always ended up bleeding together into stark lines set in a harsh relief.
The thoughts stopped.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco del Rossi had left the comfort of Paige's room to the bare reality of the guest room. Paige had
been a nice escape for awhile, but now it was time to get right down to it, no matter how hard or how
much he didn't want to face it.
His history project laid open on the small desk.
Spinner had wanted to the Soviet side of the crisis, stating that he wanted to do the side with "the
dudes that wanted to blow everything up." So here he was, trying to find the reasons of why America
didn't want the missiles in Cuba.
So far all he had marked on a piece of paper was:
'Reason 1: Missiles = death. Death = Not Good.'
He was sure that wasn't about to earn an A on his side, so he had to actually sit down and read some
more.
So he forced himself to read the chapter in his text.
By the time that he read the last boring word in the book, he was sure of two things. One was that he
definitely needed to rent that movie because reading all these transcripts of the tape recordings that JFK
made was boring and Two, he was really thirsty now. Not that number two had anything to do with the
project.
But it was a great distraction.
Marco slammed the book shut and quickly left his room in search of something thirst quenching. It
was growing later, so he crept down the stairs, incase the elder Michalchuks had already turned
in or something. He already felt terrible about imposing himself on them.
But as he neared the kitchen, he heard raised voices. Dylan and Mr. Michalchuk were in there,
apparently arguing. Marco turned to avoid seeing a family fight until Dylan's angry voice rang out.
"I don't want Marco here! He can't stay here!"
It felt like his feet had frozen and his mind had locked onto that angry statement.
"I don't want Marco here! He can't stay here!"
In an instant his feet unfroze and he was running up the stairs, back to the guest room. The words were
repeating over and over, like some sick mantra. All he could focus on was the straight fact that Dylan
didn't want him in his house. There was an underlying sense of confusion at the sudden switch of emotion
but it didn't cover the words that he had heard.
He grabbed the worn duffel bag that he had brought with him when he had ran from his parent's home
and shoved some various articles of clothing into it. It didn't matter what he had stuffed in there, just the
sooner he got out of this house the better.
When he was done, he grabbed the notebook where he had been writing his homework notes down, he
flipped to a blank page and quickly scribbled a note to Paige and left it open on desk where she was
sure to find it.
He'd feel sad later, he just needed to get away.
As quietly and as quickly as he could, he snuck down the stairs once more and was out the front door
while Dylan and his father still held their heated argument in the kitchen.
With the duffel bag slung over his should, Marco fled into the night.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Craig Manning felt the moment shatter like a crystal glass with the murmur of three deadly words.
He and Ashley had abandoned the history project in favor for the couch in the garage. Things had been
going like they had been before Manny, before he screwed up, before everything. His lips had found
Ashley's again and he had ceased to think about anything else.
But Ashley had brought the moment to a screeching halt when she whispered, "I love you." into
his ear.
The words in themselves wasn't the actual killer of moment, but it was in fact his hesitation.
Ashley pulled away from him to look him in the eyes. "But you still don't feel the same way." she stated,
the familiar coldness setting in.
"No, that's not it."
"You still love Manny."
"No!"
Ashley disentangled herself from him and climbed angrily to her feet and groped for her jacket. "What is
it then, huh Craig? Just wanted to add more numbers to the list of girls that you slept with? Is that it?"
"Ash, listen to me, I do love you!" there at least he got it out.
"Wrong. If you did, then it wouldn't be so hard to tell me." She sighed and rolled her eyes skyward. "I
am such an idiot. I can't believe I fell for that charm."
He was starting to get angry. How was she so certain of why it was so hard for him to admit it. "Yeah,
just storm out. You never let me explain anything!"
"All you do is lie!"
"Me, Mr. Nice Guy, huh?" he sarcastically quipped.
Ashley's eyes narrowed. "Fine, you smug bastard, tell me! Let me hear this new batch of lies."
"You say I'm self-absorbed, but look at you! The most pain you've ever felt is when I cheated on you!
You've never heard someone tell you that you are a worthless piece of shit and then hit you until
you're crying in a ball on the floor while that very same person leans over and tells you how much
they love you. That's never going to happen to you. The words 'I love you'? They've almost lost all
meaning to me because I was never sure if the next damn time I heard them, if I was going to get the
shit beat out of me. Have someone do that to you and then tell me that the reason why saying 'I love you'
is so hard is because I don't mean it."
Ashley looked stunned at his tirade. But the memories of his father were too much to bear. The anger was
still there, right beneath his skin and he wasn't letting it go so easily this time.
"Craig, I-"
"No! It's a bitch, huh? Hearing that other people have problems huh? Guess what Ash, everyone falls,
not just you."
Her anger was back at full force. "You're more like your dad that you think, Craig. You didn't change.
You tell me that you care, that you'd never hurt me and then you turn around and do just that. You
never raised your fist to me, but you fucked with my mind, Craig, that's just as bad. And not just me
either. You messed with Manny, telling her you loved her too and then hurt her. Emotion or physical;
like father, like son."
And then she was gone. And there he was, in the cold garage, left with a ghost that he couldn't escape.
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The popcorn was being popped in the microwave, two new pints of Ben & Jerry's were sitting in the
freezer, plain vanilla and Chunky Monkey, the newest issues of some cheesy teen magazines were
sitting on her bed and all of their favorite Disney movies were sitting next to the DVD player. There
was only one thing missing.
Manny.
Emma Nelson sat on her bed staring at the clock. It was now past 8 and no Manny. She had told her
that she was going to be there at 7. Emma had given her a 30 minute leeway, but an hour had gone
past and still nothing.
Giving into temptation, she grabbed the phone and punched in Manny's phone number. Manny's mother
answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Hey Mrs. Santos, is Manny there? She was suppose to come over to watch some movies at seven,
but she isn't here."
"Oh Emma, that's strange, she left at around seven to go to a party that a friend was holding. She
didn't say anything about heading over to your place."
Emma felt like she had been punched in the stomach. "Oh. Okay. Um, yeah I think I remember that
party now." she lied. "Thank you." She hung up with Mrs. Santos good-bye ringing in her ear.
The microwave dinged as the popcorn finished.