A/N: Yeah. Don't own Degrassi. No kiddin'.

So, kids, this chapters marks a turning point for this story. Next chapter starts with a new sort of like, these seven chapters have been Side A, and the rest will be Side B. Something like that. So I'm thinking I might leave off here for a while--not too long, actually. But just a couple weeks before I start chapter eight. It's really getting down to needing to do summer reading daily, plus I'm in the middle of a couple fics I'm co-writing with some people, and I love these ideas and they're a great escape from jayfic, so there.

This bud's for you.

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I could still see Sean being frustrated at me constantly. Whether he was throwing on his jacket or taking a bite out of a Milky Way or staring at me contemptuously, he just couldn't get over the fact that I was coming to his little freshmen date night.' Yeah, like he actually thought I gave a fuck enough to watch over him all night. What he wasn't understanding was my pure need for a party of some kind. He stopped having parties since the alcohol poisoning thing, and the only person who ever actually knew when and where parties were was always Alex. Now I see her walking down the hallway with some grungy-looking football player on her arm. Or sometimes I'd have to leave the empty halls during the periods I skipped, because I would look down and I'd see her making out with one of them, groping and feeling and I'd start imagining what that felt like. Then, I just had to shake out the memory and think about something else to distract myself. Worked pretty well, I'd say. Most of the time.

So here I was, my reputation falling steadily down the drain as I got ready to hang out with grade nines and tens. While I was dressed as I dress every day, I looked over and snickered at Sean. For once, he wasn't covering up the mess of hair with a beanie...and the hair wasn't really a mess at all anymore. Then the rest of his outfit...it all just seemed so laughably preppy. Who was he trying to kid here?

See, this is why I don't want you there, Sean said bitterly, as he continued to pace back and forth, all the while adjusting every piece of clothing he was wearing. He stopped and looked all the way over at me from the living room. You're just going to sit there and bother me in front of my friends. Now that I had to laugh at, Sean still thinking these people were going to be true friends. The kid was just endlessly naive.

I scoffed and laughed, blankly grinning.

Yes, Jay, he said, walking towards me, I have friends that aren't you. He glared at me for just a second, before shaking his head and biting his lower lip. Then he gently shoved me against the kitchen wall. Get over it. And then he just walked away.

I wouldn't normally take that. God, if I were in a bad mood, I'd punch him clear in the face. Like I couldn't deal with the fact that Sean had friends in his own grade. Fuckin' please. As much as he wanted to believe the world revolved around him, there was life before him. In fact, there was a better life before Sean. Then suddenly he shows up, my whole crew is fascinated. They were suckered into interest by the lameass stories about his criminal record or his knowledge of cars. Yeah, for a while, I was suckered into it all, too. Between Alex, Towerz and me, we never spoke of it, but what was all on our minds: this kid's more badass than all of us combined. We swaggered, we cursed, we smoked, we skipped, and we stole. Sean had deafened a kid.

But then he joined us, and I ended up being the only one not in denial about it: Sean was no fucking badass. A badass, to me, is someone who does malicious shit for no reason and feels no shame. Sean was just always at the wrong place at the wrong time, and he caved in from peer pressure and his own issues with anger management. Stealing Simpson's laptop? Revenge. Picking that fight with me? Anger and bitterness. Nothing was ever cut-and-dry I'm-gonna-do-this-for-the-fun-of-it. Essentially, he was a fake.

But when I put it like that, we all were.

I kept stealing glances and smirking at Sean, fidgeting beside me, as I made my way to his date's house. He was directing me, God knows why he knows where the house is himself, but I just followed along for once, no complaints or rude comments. I don't even know why, maybe I just thought the kid could use a night without me giving him shit. He usually deserved to be given a lot, or maybe I just needed someone to shovel it all onto, and he ended up being the only one around most of the time. Or all of the time. He was pretty inescapable. But if he was gonna live in my house, he was setting himself up for this. So screw trying to be nice to him. If he wants out, then he can just get out.

We pulled up to a quaint little house in upper suburbia. This was another thing: hanging around people who didn't understand him or understand where he was coming from, or understand what it was like to be poor as hell or...understand anything about living.

We sat in silence for a few seconds after I put the car in park in front of the house. His eyes were closed in gentle anxiety and I continued smirking like the smug bastard I was being this particular night. In keeping with this pattern, I slammed my hand against the car horn twice as the tinny little echoed off of the neighborhood's tall houses. Sean looked over at me with that familiar kind of what the hell are you doing look plastered on his face. I laughed only slightly, and he stormed out of the car, being sure to slam the car door as hard as possible, signifying his indignance and pent-up rage. Like that act still worked on me.

Only a couple minutes passed before Sean returned, this time with the girl. She looked a lot better than she had a couple days ago--or I just hadn't cared at all to look back then. Either way, I found it all pretty funny, how they themselves up for each other. This time, Sean sat in the back with her. I still couldn't help but wonder what was between them, and when curiosity took me over and I peered in my rear view mirror, I thankfully didn't have to witness any PDA shit. In fact, the whole scene looked pretty awkward, and if I were the type of guy to use that type of thing of my advantage, I would. Ah, fuck, I am that type of guy, but I was kinda pushing that whole give-Sean-grief-for-no-reason shit lately, so I thought I'd settle down for a while. He was already fragile and unpredictable--you could never really tell when the kid would just...snap.

After a painful fifteen minutes of begrudging direction-giving, we got to the house....the uh, Heather...someone's house. I parked around the corner and stood outside my car for a moment, lighting up a cigarette. The air was nice. Sean held open the door for the girl. I scoffed. He didn't hear. The two of them walked off to the party without so much as a see you later. I thought of leaving them stranded there all night. Then I rethought it.

I started walking towards the house when I'd lost track of them. I didn't particularly want to see them at all tonight. In fact, if I didn't have to be little Seany's designated driver, I could have a great night getting fucked up beyond imagination. A little social interaction never hurt...wait, fuck. My mom used to say that. Now i'm channeling my god-forsaken bitch of a mother. I did need some fucking alcohol.

I got to the door and walked right in uninvited, skipping the pleasantries. I didn't even know what I was gonna do here, stuck in a crowded room of underclassmen with loud Top 40 music blaring. I walked around the house, everywhere except the upstairs, searching for a spot where I could be by myself. There really was no room without people. As I passed by the table with the food, I quickly grabbed myself a bottle of beer and put it under my jacket, in case Sean was in the room and saw me. I sighed and settled for the room with all the couples, either happily cuddling or fervently groping one another. Either way, I knew no one would bother me, and even if they did, they'd be too happy to care when I tell them to fuck off.

I kind of lay there for a while in degrading self-pity. Then, to get my mind off how much I hated myself, I thought about what had been going on lately. Then I hated myself more for forcing myself to think about my life. Then I pitied myself. This repeated several times until my attention was diverted.

A guy and a girl entered the room, her leading him in by the hand, him smiling like an idiot. They sat down close to me, less than a foot away from my feet, and in frustration, I moved my feet, pissed off that they felt their groping session was more important than my temporary comfort. He had her practically pinned against the couch, each mouth looking like it was in competition to encase and swallow the other whole, and their hands roamed all over, through hair and into shirts and almost below the belt, but she skillfully stopped him without ever breaking the kiss. It all looked kind of gross, though I knew it was no worse (if not cleaner) than anything I'd ever done with Alex at parties, but I felt weird for a second, watching this all go on two feet in front of me. It just kept going on, though, and I lost interest when other couples poured in. I barely noticed it had ended until I saw that same boy walking out the door and looked back to see the girl had taken out a small mirror as she studied her face. I stared blankly for a second, more because I had nothing else to look at rather than because I wanted to look at her. Her eyes moved towards me, and she pursed her lips.

Um, hon, any particular reason you're hanging out alone and watching people make out at a party like this? she asked condescendingly. I felt generous.

Free softcore porn. Cynical, but generous. I bitterly stared around at the happiness that surrounded me, avoiding her gaze.

Jay, right? she asked boredly, rolling her eyes. I looked back at her, and she seemed to understand my question. Uh, hello, you only harass my brother like, daily. I harassed a shitload of people daily, so she was going to have to be a little more specific. She sighed. Of course. Homochuk's sister. Wonderful. She seemed to be reading my face and knowing exactly what I was thinking, and it was driving me insane. If you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly brimming with joy to talk to you, either. It's called making conversation, FYI. It's what social people do. I was so not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not some snobby grade ten bitch.

What do you want? I spat at her. I looked upwards, towards the ceiling, and went down the list. Yes, me and my crew, we steal things, we break things, we've skipped class, now go get your little gold star from Raditch and leave me the hell alone. She continued looking at me, with a bemused look on her face. I looked back down at her. I said frustratedly.

Paige Michalchuk, she said, outstretching her hand. I scoffed.

Her feet moved up to the couch and she hugged her knees to herself and continued looking over at me while I pretended not to notice. This went on for a good five minutes or so before she spoke up again.

I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I was just a little curious about one thing. I glanced at her. She smirked. Do you actually hate gay people, or do you just get some kind of twisted pleasure out of torturing them every day? I sighed through my nose, as if to say get a fucking original question, and maybe I'll answer it. She didn't catch onto that, though. Hon, you can answer honestly. I'm not the one that'll get offended. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to be having this conversation. I did not even want to be here. What the hell am I doing here?

Fuck this, I mumbled. I don't have to answer your stupid questions, and I'm not gonna let you sit there and smirk with that bitchy holier-than-thou attitude while I just take your shit. I grabbed the hat I'd left on the back of the couch and exited the room, making most couples shift to watch the scene I'd created. I still had no idea where I was going--I'd trapped myself at this party and I couldn't leave for a few more hours. Trapped, that's what I was these days. Trapped at school, trapped at home, trapped everywhere I went, with my newfound responsibilities like the ball and chain around my ankle. I could not do anything. I was tied down and suffocated.

I dramatically burst open the back door, leading to a small wooden porch, where the cool air was easier to breathe. I breathed deeply for a second and planned on heading back inside before I heard a small crash of glass breaking. I looked across the dimly lit porch and on a step sat a familiar figure. I cautiously but uncarefully approached him, taking small steps but then slapping him on the back.

Where's the chick? I asked, back to smugness, back to the mind games we played, as I took a seat next to him.

She left, Jay, he said, and his words suspiciously slurred together. She went home. She was being really stupid and she called me all these names... I shifted, and the light caught a shard of brown glass that lay by Sean's foot. She's just not right for me, or something. His voice was almost always firm and decisive, but now, here, it was just hazy, and ambiguous and vague. Like for once, Sean just didn't know what he wanted. There was really no point in offering sympathy when he wouldn't remember it in the morning.

Yeah, well, I started, not really planning on saying anything. I started out into the empty darkness that was the backyard at this hour. No idea what sort of creepy shit was out there, and still I just sat here awkwardly under my dim light. Minutes passed, or hours, or maybe days. I felt something on my shoulder. It was his shoulder. The music from inside could be heard outside. It was calm. I had a moment of complete lack of consciousness. For a mere second, I saw everything around me with complete clarity, and saw it for the fucked-up situation that it was. Sean, drunk, laying against me. Me, sitting nonchalantly, staring at nothing. The rest of the world, ages away. I did the last thing I ever really wanted to do. I placed my lips on his, and didn't wait for a response. My hand creeped through his hair, and if one were watching, they would probably think I wanted this. I did not want this. I did, but I knew the repercussions and I knew this would only lead to more shit, but the kiss just got deeper and I wasn't aware of whether or not Sean was kissing back for most of the time, until I paused for just a second and his mouth kept moving. It tasted so much better than I'd remembered it, like a little drop of pure innocence, and the kiss just kept getting deeper and more pervasive--

I heard a hushed whisper from behind us. I tore myself away from Sean and could only see the silhouette of a girl in the doorway before the door closed. Suddenly, I wanted to punch someone, particularly Sean, but he didn't deserve it, so I'd like to punch whoever made me go to this party, whichever son of a bitch but the thought in my head that I wanted to go to this. I took my lower lip into my mouth and bit hard, like if I let go, I might explode. I stood up and grabbed Sean by his jacket and dragged him around the house until I found my car and I got in and we drove home. The ride home was the hardest. Sean faded in and out of consciousness, but I wasn't paying attention to him much. My leg was shaking and I couldn't stop it. I read the Michalchuk girl's words in my head. I didn't have an answer because I didn't know. Now I know. Fuck. I know now. God dammit. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel and gritted my teeth. The thought escaped from the barricade I'd put it behind. I swerved to avoid a truck that was coming over the double yellow line. I slammed at the power button of the radio that was playing an annoying song. I shook Sean to make sure he was still conscious, and he was. Fuck. Fuck. I'm gay.

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