I don't own Degrassi, but the story is mine! Enjoy.
A not so perfect home life – Chapter 2
Everybody knew Jay Hogart as the guy who picked on anyone and everyone. He came, he bullied, and he went on his merry way. If only his life were that simple.
As he drove home, Jay replayed his bumping into Emma over and over again in his mind. He pictured the look of shock on her face as she hit the ground and the nervousness in her voice. It was all he could think of. Pulling into the driveway of his one-story home he hopped out and went directly inside. He was greeted by the all too familiar fighting of his parents.
"—if your drunk ass ever got off the goddamned couch to look for a job, maybe we'd have some money to spend!" came his mother.
"Oh, don't you dare throw this back in my face!" his father retorted. "I make enough to get us by, but you have to go and spend it faster than I can make it! Try for once, just once, not to buy another ugly piece of clothing to cover your ass!"
Jay watched the quarrel for a minute tiredly, then continued down the hall and into his room. Throwing his messenger bag, he collapsed on the bed. He reached under it and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. Taking a drink, Jay looked around.
The room was small, with a few posters of women in bikinis and different car magazine articles covering the otherwise bare walls. In one corner was a desk with a new-looking computer sitting on top of it. Next to the desk was his closet. There were clothes strewn everywhere, so the floor was barely visible. And last but not least was his bed, low to the ground with a black comforter thrown on top. It was obvious that he spent as little time in there as possible. He got up and walked back into the living room, looking around for his feuding parents. When he saw no sign of them, he shrugged and walked out the door, taking the bourbon with him.
Jay drove around in his Civic, bottle in hand, taking advantage of this quiet time he had. The sun was setting now, leaving red and orange streaks in the sky. It almost looked as though he could drive through them, taking him who knows where. He would be glad to get away from that. That rivalry he called a home. Only a few of his closest friends knew what went on there, but it would be a little weird actually talking about it to Alex or Towerz. So he kept it to himself, not thinking much of it. He was used to the yelling, or more… accustomed to it. Having a drunk for a father didn't bother him much either, he figured that he didn't need him anyway. Besides, it was too late for a father figure to "step in" now. He'd convinced himself that he was too far gone for that kind of help, or any for that matter. So he dealt with it by taking his dad's booze when he'd pass out and drinking his problems away by the ravine. Oh, the irony of it all. The one thing he hated most was the thing he was slowly becoming.
---
Down by the ravine a fire was burning slowly and the usual people were perched around it. Jay even saw Amy going into the old black van with a guy he didn't recognize. She smiled smugly at him before her company closed the sliding back door.
Jay sat himself on his usual picnic table and took a nice big swig from his now half-empty bottle. He cringed slightly at the powerful liquor, then rested his elbows against the top of the table casually. His eyes were closed, mind working hard. A few minutes later he heard the sound of a car driving up, but thinking nothing of it settled himself more onto the table. The next thing he knew, the loud, cursing slurs of his father were closing in on him. Jerking his eyes open, Jay watched his father stumble over to him, hiccupping and talking to himself indecisively.
"What the hell are you doing here with my bourbon?" he managed to ask between hiccups. "What the hell—"
"Dad, what're you doing here?" asked Jay tiredly. This seemed like somewhat of a usual thing for them. People around him had backed away, looking alarmed.
hiccup"Damnit, Jay! What gives you the idea that you can just—"hiccup"—take my booze whenever you feel like 'hanging out'?" His father was furious now.
"Dad…dad will you just sit down?"
"Get in the car…get…in…the…goddamned car!" his father gasped.
"No. Just sit down. You're drunk."
"You don't tell me what to do, boy! I'm your father. I drove all the way here, and I can do it back again."
"Fine. Go then." Jay pushed his father, who fell. The people watching gasped, but Jay just shook his head. "You're pathetic," he said. He turned and stalked away without a single backward glance.
"Jay, get back here. Now. Jay!"
Jay drove away, leaving his father stumbling back to the road, screaming.
It was late now, after midnight. The houses and street lights were only a blur as Jay sped past them in rage. 70, 80, 90 miles per hour on the main road. He focused his eyes on whatever destination lay ahead, and nothing else. It was frightening, not knowing what to do. Going home would only prove a bigger struggle than it had to be. The ravine was obviously out. Alex didn't seem like an option this late and he didn't know where Spinner lived. Sighing, he went to the last place he thought he'd find himself looking for any kind of condolence.
---
The Nelson residence was dark and quiet, with the exception Snakes considerably loud snoring coming from the upstairs bedroom. Jay wondered if he ought to just find somewhere else, it looked as though everyone was asleep. It's worth a shot, right? He got out of the car and walked quietly over to Emma's ground-level window. Knocking, he let himself in.
"Psst. Green Peace?" he whispered, lowering himself down into her room.
There was Emma, breathing softly on her pillow. She looked so peaceful; Jay couldn't remember seeing her this way. He knelt down next to her bed, contemplating whether to wake her. Yawning, she turned over and opened her eyes.
"Jay?" she covered herself with her blankets, backing away. "What the—whoa!" she yelled, toppling off the bed.
He laughed, offering her his hand. Accepting it, Emma asked, "Jay, what are you doing in my room?"
"What? Is it against the law to sneak into your room in the middle of the night?" he replied.
"Uh, yeah. It's called breaking and entering."
"Hmm…whoops."
Emma gestured for Jay to sit on the bed. Following her directions, he made himself comfortable. He smelled the sheets; they had a sweet fragrance to them. Sighing slightly to himself, he watched Emma take a seat in the corner of the room.
Emma was a bit annoyed and a little curious as to why Jay Hogart was sitting on her bed. She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at him. He seemed, of all things, innocent; he looked tired, worried, and even scared.
"Jay," Emma began, "are you alright? Did something happen?"
He was now conscious of the fact that he was totally vulnerable. No witty remark brimmed on the tip of his tongue, no smart alack joke. It was just the two of them, and a look of frustration flashed in his eyes.
"I'm tired, Emma," he said.
She looked at him, confusedly.
"Jay, I don't under—"
"And I'm sorry. For…everything."
Jay Hogart had just apologized. This was definitely a first. He glanced at her, and, when she didn't react, stood up. He made for the window without another word, but turned around instead. Emma was expressionless. She just sat and stared at him.
"I went to the ravine tonight," Jay said. "I came home, and then I left again." He glanced over at Emma; she seemed to be listening. "Grabbed a bottle and walked out the door. My dad followed me there. He was more interested in getting the bourbon back than me. Not that I'm really complaining; I'd rather he slept all day anyway," he confessed.
He turned to Emma, whose brown eyes were fixed on him. It was funny; the guy who had taken advantage of her, the guy she vowed to hate was also the guy she felt the closest to. He had confessed how he felt to her. She looked at the ground, unsure of what to say.
"Jay- I…" she began, "I didn't know."
He chuckled softly and started for the window once more. "I know," he said. And with that he bode Emma goodnight, climbed out the window, and drove off in his Civic.
---
He knew he'd have to go home eventually. There wasn't anywhere else now. So, driving as slowly as possible, Jay turned onto his street and made for his house. The living room light was on, and he could hear his father.
Great, Jay thought to himself. Just perfect.
A twinge of regret surfaced before he went inside, fully aware of what was about to happen.
Hearing the door open, his father bellowed, "Jay! Get over here. Now!"
Tilting his head back he walked into the living room.
"What?" he asked defiantly.
"How dare you push me like that! I have a mind to--!" he said.
"Out all hours of the night, with alcohol too. Are you stupid? You could've wrecked the car!" his mother added, walking up to him.
"Thanks for the concern, mom. I'm going now," Jay said.
"You're not going anywhere Jason, ever!" she screamed.
"I have school in a few hours. Or did you forget about that?"
"You're wasting you're time Jay. You won't graduate. You and I both know that," came his father.
And then it happened. In an instant, he had lost all self-control. Jay turned and flung himself at his father with such force that they both flew into the couch. As they rolled around, Jay's mother screamed about breaking the furniture and getting blood on the carpet. Whack. He hit his father in the mouth. Slam. His father punched him in the stomach. Crash. He slammed his father into the coffee table. Crack. He broke Jay's nose. Blood covered his face, and, wiping some away, he got up.
"I'm not done with you boy!" his father screamed.
"Yeah, but I'm done with you. I'm gone," he said.
Jay grabbed his bag, keys, and a towel for his face; he looked at his mother, who was frantically wiping at a blood stain in the carpet. That was it, the last straw. His nose throbbed, but he knew he had to leave. So, starting the car, he headed for Bennett Park.
