--Pretty Lies---
By: KT the Shimmer Skank
Rating: PG-13 for language, drug use, sexual references, and mild angst.
Spoilers: This story contains many major season four spoilers, specifically those from Anywhere I Lay My Head, Islands in the Stream, and Time Stands Still. You've been warned.
Author's Notes: This new pairing doesn't really make sense to me, but I find that I totally love it all the same. This is sort of my attempt to rationalize it, I suppose. A very brief ficlet, in comparison to my other stuff. Reviews are muchos appreciated. Oh, and, I don't own Degrassi or make a profit or any of that silliness. The title, by the way, is something of a reference to the Joni Mitchell song, "The Last Time I Saw Richard," which I also do not own.
o o o o o o o o o o
I know it's stupid but the thing I miss the most are his big brown puppy eyes. You know, the way they just sort of, swell up and look so pitiful whenever he's mad. It's funny, I think, because he tries so hard to look pissed off, but he's just so, you know, apathetic, that he never really comes across as anything more than a whiney, lazy, puppy-eyed babe. And it drives me crazy, you know, because I've seen the absolute worst in him; I've seen just how grand an asshole he can be, and still I can't get past those eyes. When he walks by I try to remind myself of everything he's put me through, but it doesn't do any good at all. I still hopelessly wait for those eyes to shift their direction and look right at me.
But of course he never does. It's completely tragic. My life remains completely and utterly Craig-less, which isn't so bad most of the time, but sometimes I see him and I just wish so bad that he was looking at me. I mean, everyone looks at me. I would totally look at me if I was anyone else. But somehow he manages to ignore me with such precision I feel like I never even existed to him. Not that that matters. I've gone up against all odds to get him before, and I can totally do it again.
Except for, well, one thing, that's kind of gotten me distracted.
"Hey, gorgeous," he said, sliding up behind me as I stood in front of my open locker. His hands were suddenly wrapped snugly around my hips.
I turned around and faced Spinner Mason, unable to supress my glowing smirk. I hated to think of myself as a show-off, but who the hell was I kidding? I totally was, and it totally made my day that Spinner was all over me, in front of everyone. He wanted me and he was so completely arrogant that he didn't care who saw. I was elated.
"You sure are friendly today," I said, gritting my teeth slightly. It was hard for me not to show how completely crushed I was that he had ignored me for an entire week. But, oh, right. That's why they call them crushes.
He grinned and flicked back his head, flipping the bizarre Flock Of Seagulls haircut out of his face. "So, did you finish that paper for Kwan?"
I couldn't mask the decline in my heart's flutter. I mean, homework? He wanted to talk to me about homework? How absolutely lame. "Um, yeah. It's due today."
"Well, you see, I didn't. And I'm really not in the mood to have Kwan chew me out, so I was thinking I'd just take the rest of the day off." He flipped his hair out of his eyes again, because no matter how much he tried, in his eyes was exactly where his hair wanted to be. "What do you say? Feel like blowing off English?"
Now of course I knew how wrong it was to skip class. Faintly, there was a voice in the back of my head counting off all the possible consequences (and, oddly enough, that voice always has a way of sounding eerily similar to Emma Nelson). But like always, I put the voice on mute, slapped on a seductive smile, and within five minutes, Degrassi Community School was a mere speck on the road behind us.
We went to his house, where I had never been. It was like a secret being whispered into my ear as I stepped through the door. The lightless, silent house was welcoming. My thoughts grew dizzy with giddiness as our feet plodded quietly up the mauve-carpeted stairs to his bedroom. There's something sort of fascinating and unnerving about being in a boy's bedroom. It's like, everything we're never supposed to see, everything about boys we're never supposed to understand. It's the first step into their world, that strange place that makes no sense at all but lures you in all the same.
I stepped carefully over the dingy, dirty laundry that littered much of Spinner's floor. I moved aside his drumsticks and a copy of Blender to clear a spot for me to sit on his bed. I crossed my legs and glanced around the room. An odd mixture of rap and rock artists seemed to make up his musical tastes: their faces were plastered around his walls, their albums left haphazardly around the room. I smiled and looked over at him as he sat down in the torn teal swivel chair at his desk, propping up his feet on top of stacks of clutter. His hair was in his face again, covering his left eye from view. It didn't seem to be bothering him now.
"Do you smoke pot?" was the first thing he uttered.
He caught me off guard. I shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the edges of my short denim skirt. "Um, no." Charming, Manuela, I thought gloomily to myself. Real charming.
He shrugged as he pulled open the top drawer of his desk, fumbling around until he pulled out a plastic baggie full of things I'd only seen in health class. I heard Emma's voice screaming profane reprimands in my head. But, hey, what did I care? I was a big girl. I was totally cool enough to hang out with Spinner. Yup. No problem.
"So... how's the band been going?" I asked him, trying to act completely casual as Spinner Mason smoked up in front of me. I kicked off my shoes and slid more comfortably onto the bed. I picked up one of his drum sticks and tapped it idly on a stray pillow. "I'd really like to hear you guys play again."
Spinner shrugged, taking a long hit from the acid green glass pipe in his hand. "It's going all right," he said, slowly exhaling as he spoke. He looked down. "Well, no, pretty shitty, actually. We haven't rehearsed in awhile. No point without a bassist."
More discomfort settled in the pit of my stomach. Jimmy Brooks' absence was a glaring hollowness that every student in Degrassi felt. The first few days after the shooting, there was constant buzz about him, everyone was hanging on every bit of news, wanting to know the latest on Jimmy's condition. But soon people stopped asking, because his condition never changed. It just became a silent vigil, everyone holding their breaths and hoping for the best. I hadn't known him, not really. Only that he was a nice guy, always involved, always doing the right thing.
The most noticeable aspect of Jimmy being gone was the change in Spinner. He just became so much less of himself. The wise cracks, the pranks, and the obnoxious but lovable Spinnerness that had begun to light up my days just sort of faded away. He was quiet. Most people appreciated the change. Everyone kind of hated Spinner these days, anyway. He had lately gotten ridiculously good at pissing people off. It was completely crushing to watch him walk around with his emo kid hair, moping and giving the occasional dirty look. How was I supposed to flirt with him that way? I couldn't believe I'd ever thought he was cuter than Craig.
But here I was with him, alone in his room, soaking up the Spinner atmosphere and having to admit myself that I was completely smitten with it. I was finding it hard not to pout. I thought I came here to make-out, not watch Spinner get high and listen to him whine. Didn't he want me? The uncertainty was killing me. It made my toes itch and my mouth feel dry.
I flopped onto my stomach, now completely sprawled across his bed. "That's too bad. I, um, I really hope Jimmy gets better soon. I know you guys were... are close."
I watched as he exhaled another hit of marijuana. His head rolled back and grayish smoke flowed gently from his mouth. I noticed how soft the skin of his neck looked. "Like he's even going to want to talk to me when he does. Nobody wants to talk to me. Paige and Hazel won't even look at me. It's my fault he's there. It's all my fucking fault."
I saw the glimmer of tears collecting in the corners of his eyes, and that's the moment when I felt really lost. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to deal with this kind of Spinner. All these weeks of flirting I'd been acquainting myself with Funny Spinner, Selfish Spinner, Happy Spinner. Stoner Spinner, Lonely Spinner, Crying Spinner... he was a stranger to me.
I slid off the bed and tip toed over to him, the mauve carpet hugging my toes and leading me along the path of Spinner's messy floor. I touched his hand. "Don't say that. It's not your fault. You didn't pull the trigger. You can't blame yourself, Spin."
"No, but..." He rolled his eyes slightly, biting his lip the way he did when he was thinking hard. Then he pushed my hand away gently and quickly swiveled his chair to the side. "Let's just... not talk about this."
His final words were cold, emotionless, stone. I felt him shut the door on me, and I shivered inside. He'd let me in too far. He'd brought me into his world when he really wasn't ready for it. I suddenly needed to escape. I was such an idiot. I wished I'd never taken Spinner's simplicity for granted. There was a heavy, heavy burden buried underneath all that Spinner-mess. I was stupid to have thought the game Spinner and I played was an innocent distraction. I was in over my head. This was too much for me.
I picked up a rainbow slinky that was lying in his desk and carried it back to his bed. I played with it idly in my hands, carefully watching the colors dance and not looking at Spinner at all. I mean, what a waste coming here had been.
I heard him emit a heavy sigh, followed by the clunky noises of him putting his pot back in its hiding place. He moved toward me. Took the slinky out of my hands. Kissed my neck. I met his eyes and he asked me a question without words. Naturally, of course, I let him kiss me and pull me in close to him. His drum sticks were digging into my back as he laid me across his bed, but I didn't say anything. I didn't say anything as he placed his hands underneath my skirt, as he slowly pulled my shirt over my head. I didn't say anything about the fact that only a few moments ago he'd been on the verge of tears. I didn't say anything at all. My words weren't wanted here, anyway. Sex I could give easily. I was good at that. But words... my words were worthless to him.
Spinner kissed me and it was easy to forget that I was skipping school, that I had been exposed to grody drug use, that less than an hour ago I'd been daydreaming about Craig, that Spinner was probably still completely in love with Paige. I was buried in Spinner, in his taste and his smell and the clutter of his room. It suddenly occured to me that this might be Spinner's first time, and you know I don't like to be a show-off, but something about that made all of this even more worth it. I couldn't wait to take him there. I could make him feel better. I could distract him from Jimmy and Paige and the guilt.
He was broken inside. I could see it clearly, because I knew exactly what that felt like. I didn't know how to fix it. If I did, I wouldn't have been here myself. All I knew was how to cover it up, gloss it over, make it pretty. There were things he needed to forget. Things I would make him forget. And who was I kidding? I needed him to help me forget a few things of my own. I reached out and touched his hair, kissed his chest. I did my best to make us pretty.