A/N:

I don't know if Jay has a little sister or not, but for the sake of my fanfic, let's just pretend he has a little sister, Haley, who now resides with their aunt in British Columbia.

Thanks for the review, britneyh8r- I really appreciate it when I get feedback! To answer your question:

I am American. Americans get Degrassi:TNG from The-N. However, there is a loophole: I live about 25-30 minutes from Whiterock, British Columbia (I went up there for my 19th birthday with some friends and ordered my first alcoholic drink- a crantini. But, that's besides the point. My point is) because of this, I get CTV as part of my basic expanded cable package. So, I am one of the few Americans who has seen every episode from season 4. I am quite dissapointed in the season finale. Anyway, I am adding this to explain, my story takes place after Way Down The Road, Part 2.

(If you are American and haven't seen this, don't worry- you didn't miss much. West End Girls would've made a far better season finale. As a cheerleader myself, I was appaled at the squad's behavior and letting Paige fall- completely inappropriate, not to mention dangerous. The ripping-off of the dress though- that was classic- what the heck is Manny wearing, anyway?) Okay, enough of me rambling and raving. On with Paige and Jay!

I hopped down from Jay's shoulders onto my uninjured ankle as we walked inside. It was like something out of the '50's. A girl, about Dylan's age, skated up to us- yes, skated- with two menus. "Aren't you two lovebirds cute this evening!"

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes, "we are so not-"

Before I could finish correcting her, she turned her back to us and skated to the booths. "Right this way," she said happily. After we had both sat down, she placed the menus in front of us. "Can I start you two off with something to drink? Milkshake, lemonade, anything?"

"How about a pint of MGD?" Jay smiled.

The waitress looked down at him politely. "Honey, this is a family restaurant. We don't serve that here. Besides, it would be a little impolite to drink in front of your lady, wouldn't it?"

I curled my lip. "I am not his lady, and he is not my lovebird," I muttered as I sat back in the vinyl seat, the material making a creaking sound.

"Um, how 'bout a Coke?"

She scribbled that down, then turned to me. "And what would you like tonight?"

"To go home," I mumbled.

"Sorry, what was that?" She looked intently at me. Her hair was something straight out of the '50's, too. A real poodle skirt? That was fashionable . . . when I was 6 on Halloween night . . . "I'll have a venti non-fat caramel macchiato," I smiled.

She gave me a blank look.

"I mean, a strawberry lemonade," I quickly added.

She scribbled that down too. "I'll be right back!" She skated off to the back part of the diner.

A minute had passed. Two minutes. No talking. I noticed that there was dirt underneath Jay's fingernails. His black hoodie had a tear on one of the sleeves. He had removed his gross-looking hat and set it next to him to scratch his forehead. I was noticing a small scar on his left eyebrow when he suddenly snapped his head up, his cold blue eyes burning holes into mine. "Do you have a staring problem?"

"Do you have any social skills?" I retorted. I wasn't as offended as I wanted to sound; in all actuality, I was taken aback by the way he looked at me. Something about that stare sent a chill down my spine. Not the "I'm going to die" kind of chill, but, something different.

Before I could analyze what that chill was, a big glass was set in front of me. "Here you two go. I'll be right back to take your orders." I took a sip. Wow, actual strawberry lemonade! That was really good.

I decided I would go for the civil approach. "So, how's Alex?" I asked casually, waiting for a grunt, or shoulder shrug, or something of the neanderthal nature.
He nearly choked on his pop. "Don't know, don't care." He more so mumbled that to his drink than to me.

I rolled my eyes. "That's right, I'm talking to Jay Hogart, the guy who doesn't care about anything in the world. Not even his own girlfriend."

He looked at me. Very angry this time, truly enraged. "Oh, so if you found Brillo head cheating on you with someone else, you wouldn't be pissed! I saw her naked! With that, that, nerd!" He flung his arm across the table, sending his coke flying, then shattering on impact with the floor. "Dammit!"

"You do care," I said, letting it slip out.

He glared at me. "What. Did. You. Say."

"I mean," I stammered, "you do care about her. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have gotten all pissed and had your temper tantrum with your pop. You, Mr. I don't give a crap about anyone else, are a walking contradiction!" Before he could rip me apart, I added in, "and yes, when I saw Spinner with Manny last year, I was pissed. I thought about wrecking his car even more."

He looked a little less angry at me. Still looked like he wanted to have another hissy fit, but less so.

The waitress came up to us, drink refills in hand. "Here you go. And, what will you have tonight? We have a special on our Bonanza burger, our Cowboy griddle . . . " she listed things off on her fingers. Ugh, her nail polish was a shade that no one under the age of 80 should ever wear.

"Yeah, I'll take that," Jay said, shrugging.

"Do you have any low-carb choices?" I asked.

"Come on, Princess, live a little," Jay smirked as the waitress looked confused.

I sighed. "Nevermind. Can I have some fish and chips?"

She wrote that down too. "I'll be back in a little while. Enjoy your drinks!" With that, she was off.

"I, um, I didn't mean to make you mad earlier," I apologized.

"Eh, yeah, whatever. I'm still breathing." He picked at his fingernails.

It amazed me how that- the whatever comment- was the end of his anger towards that. In a way, it was so easy going. Then again, it was so a trait of a serial murderer.

Maybe there was more to Jay Hogart than what met the eye. I sipped my lemonade, glancing at him every so often. Yeah. There was definately more to Jay.