A/N: Had a tough time finding the right fragment of lyrics for the title. Long live Dashboard Confessional.
I realize that Emma is acting very different from the show, and that is on purpose. I'm trying to build up to what happens past Christmas and near the end of the story. So she won't be completely neurotic at the very beginning.
A thanks to those who reviewed. It means a lot.
I felt myself being shoved and slowly opened my eyes. My mother was hovering over me, pushing me out of the solace of sleep.
"Em, wake up. You're going to be late." She said, ripping the sheets away from my pajama-clad body. I made a slow grab for them, wanting to go back to sleep, but missed.
"Come on Emma, I don't have time for this. Get dressed." Her tone was impatient. I grudgingly rubbed my eyes. Great, the first night I had actually slept well since the shooting was ruined.
"I'm up…" I muttered groggily, rising from my bed and stumbling over to my sink, turning on the faucet and splashing the freezing water over my face in attempt to walk up.
After I couldn't take anymore of the ice cold water, I dried my face off and headed over to my closet, pulling out a pair of faded jeans and a long sleeved green shirt. I pulled them on and brushed out my tangled mess of hair.
Once I had finished getting dressed, I stopped in front of the mirror to examine my appearance. No amount of makeup would make those bags under my eyes disappear. I let out a sigh and headed up the stairs. So much for a good day.
I was greeted by the noise of the news on TV and the smell of something burning. Archie was busy cooking what looked like omelets in a frying pan. He grinned as I entered the kitchen.
"Grab a plate Emma and I'll serve you some."
I nodded and quietly grabbed a scratched plastic plate from the cabinet, which Archie promptly snatched. With nothing to do, I took a seat at the kitchen table and began picking at the frayed edges of the worn tablecloth.
A few moments later, after I had removed several fibers from the tablecloth, Archie set a plate of badly burned omelet in front of me, along with a fork and knife.
"Dig in." He said smiling, obviously proud of the omelet. I picked up the fork and knife and cut into the omelet. Archie gave me one last smile and broke into a horrible fit of coughing on his way back to the stove. I turned around and stared at him.
"Archie?" He looked up at me, as the gradually slowed. As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
"I'm fine Em. Must be getting some kind of bug or something. I'm gonna go grab some cough medicine." He mumbled before turning off the stove and walking out of the kitchen.
I turned back to the burned omelet and poked it with my fork. It just kind of rolled across my plate, leaving pieces of blackened omelet behind it. I lifted up my plate and dumped the omelet into the trashcan before rinsing off my plate and sticking it into the dishwasher.
I had lost my appetite.
I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, placing the headphones of my CD player over my ears and walked out the front door. As I set foot outside my front door, I shivered. It was windy and cold outside and I had neglected to bring a jacket with me. I glanced down at my watch. I had to be at school in ten minutes. No time to go get a jacket.
So I headed down the street, pressing "play" on my CD player and burying my hands deep within the pockets of my jeans, hoping the music would distract me from the cold. At the second intersection, my dry skin, now red and swollen from the cold had gone numb. I couldn't feel my fingers as I trudged along the sidewalk.
"Emma, what the hell are you doing out here with no jacket?" A male voice questioned from behind me. I was too cold to turn around. Luckily, I heard their footsteps running towards me. JT materialized from behind me and stepped in front of me. I stopped walking, my teeth chattering so loudly I could hardly hear myself think.
"F-forgot..." I managed. "Got to keep walking."
"Here." He pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing a white short sleeve polo underneath. He handed the sweatshirt to me.
"JT… Y-you'll freeze." I chattered. He pulled it over my head despite my warning.
"I can stand a few minutes of cold weather. You need to defrost a little bit." He grinned, hugging his skateboard to his side. We walked the remaining distance to Degrassi in silence, my fingers thawed and JT was somewhat frozen when we finally reached the front doors.
As we stepped inside, I moved to pull off the sweatshirt, but was stopped by JT.
"Don't. Keep it on for now, don't want you turning into a Popsicle Emma." He grinned.
The bell rang and countless students flocked to the halls. I yelled out a "thank you" to JT, and wandered towards my locker through the student-seeping hallway. I fumbled the lock on my locker, hoping it would open. My fingers still hadn't completely thawed so turning the dial on the lock was unusually difficult.
After several attempts, the lock finally clicked open. I pulled out the lock and opened up my locker.
"Where'd you get the sweatshirt?" A familiar female voice asked from behind me, even though it sounded more like an interrogation than a question.
"A friend." I muttered. So far today I'd overslept and nearly been frozen, I certainly wasn't up to dealing with Manny Santos and her daily chastising.
"Pretending to be innocent, helpless and "cold" won't make anyone feel sorry for you Emma, even JT." She remarked snottily.
"I suppose you know from years experience, right Manny?" I shot back as I busied myself trying to find my geometry book.
"You're pathetic Emma, pretending to be so "environmentally conscious" and righteous, when in reality you're just some stuck up prude, begging for attention." She retorted.
Pot. Kettle. Black.
"Wow Manny. You know, I would have asked you if I wanted a prostitute's opinion on begging for attention." I grabbed my newly found geometry book and stood up, staring her in the eye.
She let out a muffled "hmph" and stomped off. That's Manny, all worked up over the first snide comment with nothing left afterwards. Disappointing really. I sighed, closed my locker and headed off for Armstrong's class, my fingers still partially numb from the walk to school.
I sat down in the vacant seat next to Toby. The announcements came on and Radditch's voice boomed throughout the classroom, his tone filled with pseudo sympathy and mock sadness.
"Good morning students. I understand that many students have been having difficulty coping and recovering from the recent Degrassi tragedy. I strongly advise anyone experiencing this difficulty go and speak to either a teacher or the guidance counselor, Ms. Sauve. Speaking of which, would the follow students please report to the guidance office: Paige Michalchuk, Toby Isaacs, Hazel Aden, Emma Nelson and Darcy Williams. Ms. Sauve would like to speak with you. I promise you, Degrassi panthers, that we will make it through this time of mourning. That is all." The announcements turned off.
Mr. Armstrong looked up from his folder and stared at Toby and I.
"Mr. Isaac's, Ms. Nelson, you're excused to go to the guidance office." He said, motioning to the door. Toby and I rose from our seats and slowly made our way out the door.
"What do you think this is about?" Toby asked me, even though he and I both knew the answer. We were witnesses to a tragedy and everyone expected us to break down and cry over it. I didn't know about Toby, but I wasn't about to comply with everyone's expectations.
As we reached the office we were greeted by a worried Paige and a sobbing Hazel. No Darcy. Toby and I took a seat in the vacant seats on Paige's right. I remained silent, as did Paige and Toby, Hazel just sat there, head in hands, crying. I should have felt compassion for her, she was Jimmy's girlfriend, but I didn't. Jimmy was alive and she should be thankful, yet she cried on.
Eventually, Ms. Sauve came out of her office, and invited the four of us in. She had set up a circle of chairs and motioned us to take a seat. We all sat down, Toby sat on my right while Paige and Hazel sat on the opposite side. There was an empty seat on my left, where Darcy was supposed to be.
Ms. Sauve clutched her clipboard and pen to her chest as she sat down in the middle chair.
"You're all here to express your thoughts, feelings and concerns on the tragedy that occurred nearly a week ago. Some of you have felt grief-stricken," Sauve paused, glancing over at Paige and Hazel before returning her gaze to Toby and I, "while others that witnessed it, have yet to say anything."
Way to be obvious Sauve.
"Toby, how about you start. Tell us your thoughts on the shooting, don't be shy." She smiled reassuringly and after several moments of silence, Toby began talking.
"Rick… Was my friend. I never thought he'd bring a-a… Gun to school. But he did. Some may think he's a regular psycho, and maybe… He was. But he was also bullied. Teased. Humiliated. People can't go around saying he did it for no reason… It'd be a lie."
Paige looked up from the floor and by her facial expression, I could tell she was going into attack mode.
"You don't get it, do you? Rick brought a gun to school and shot someone—someone who hardly did a thing to him! But Jimmy's still in the hospital, crippled, all because of that psycho." Paige argued, glaring at Toby.
"Calm down Paige" Sauve said calmly. Her gaze then turned back to me. I shifted in my seat. " Now Emma, how about you go? Tell us what your thoughts are."
Silence.
I just sat there, feeling everyone's gaze burn imaginary holes in my skin. I didn't care what everyone said. I wasn't going to talk about it. The visuals were bad enough.
"Emma? Your thoughts please?" Sauve repeated.
"I don't have anything to say." I said bluntly.
Sauve sighed. Apparently she had expected this. Good. Maybe she wouldn't push me to talk anymore.
"Surely you've felt something that you'd like to express?" She continued. God, when did this woman give up?
"No, I haven't." I replied, staring at Sauve's clipboard.
"That's bullshit." Paige muttered, now glaring at me. Like I cared.
"Pardon me?" I asked, moving my gaze from the clipboard to Paige.
"You heard me. That's a load of bullshit. You were there for Christ's sake and Rick even pointed the gun at you, and yet you claim you've got nothing to say? That's bullshit Emma and you know it." Paige spat. Sauve simply sat there, staring at me yet again. I guess she thought Paige's accusations would make me talk.
She thought wrong.
"I didn't come to sit here and be accused by one of Rick's tormentors, nor did I come here to be pressured into talking. I'm done wasting my time. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to class." I stated flatly and stood up and walked out of Sauve's office, while Paige Michalchuk pursed her lips and glared at my backside.
"Emma! Come ba---" I closed the door behind me, cutting Sauve off from her preaching. As I walked down the hallway, I saw the blood again, and Rick, with a gun. I was alone and he was pointing the gun at me. Again. He was supposed to be dead, but now he was walking towards me. I stopped, panicking as I stared at him.
Then I blinked, and he had disappeared. I walked hurriedly over to the wall pushed the door open to the girl's washroom and went inside. I stopped by the sink and pulled the sink handle towards me, letting the cold water run. I splashed it across my face, in attempt to clear my head of the Rick hallucinations.
Once I had regained my composure and dried my face, I pushed open the door and headed back to class, taking my seat next to Liberty. As soon as I had taken my seat she leaned forward towards me.
"Are you feeling well Emma? You seem a little disgruntled." She pried.
"I'm fine." I lied and turned back to Armstrong.
No one needed to know the truth. No one.