Lackadaisical

Chapter One: Her Days Are Numbered

"Hey, Cause Girl," he smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder instinctively. She stopped, but her eyes bore into him with pure agitation.

"Is that supposed to flatter me? Because if it is, you're going about it completely the wrong way. You should've called me Green Peace first then offered me a ride to the ravine to the help the environment," she bit back sarcastically. "Go away, Jay."

"Hey," he stopped, smirk off his face. "I was just saying hi."

"Hi," Emma offered, immediately walking away, arms wrapped protectively around her notebooks.

"We're getting together tonight," Jay called after her, adjusting his hat. "I'll see you there."

It wasn't a question, and Emma purposefully didn't look back to throw her pseudo fuck buddy a dirty look or unpleasant hand gesture. He was too cocky, too sure of himself. After all that had happened with Alex and Amy and, most of all, with her, he still didn't think himself any less desirable or right.

Opening her locker, Emma threw in her binders and plucked out a lose index card with her doctor's name printed at the top. Looking up at the spot where Jay stood, she decided there and then that it was time to stop what she'd been doing. She'd alienated her family, her friends. Manny had tried to warn her, to console her, and she just pushed her away. Granted, Manny did the same when she'd had her Craig drama, but she wasn't like that. She was the sweet friendly girl that everyone loved and counted on. She didn't push away the people she loved; the people she'd die for and who would most certainly die for her.

She didn't push all the good, stable things in her life away for Jason Hogart.

"Manuela Santos," a voice greeted her over her shoulder. Manny smiled and flipped her hair, turning away from her locker.

"James Tiberius Yorke," she replied, grinning triumphantly at his mock-pained look. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," he characteristically looked down at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, "just thinking about what movie to take Liberty to for our one month anniversary."

"A month," Manny smiled widely. "J.T., you stud. Liberty's a lucky girl."

J.T. grinned and reveled for a moment at having his ex-girlfriend support his new relationship, suppressing the slight pang of annoyance that she wasn't jealous. Then he gave her a comfortable shake of the shoulders and cocky expression. "I'd like to think so. So, any suggestions?"

"Oh, God," Manny rolled her eyes, loading her arm with textbooks while balancing her purse on the opposite shoulder, "sorry that I won't be a bigger help. I haven't been to the movies in ages."

"No," J.T. placed a hand to his heart mockingly, "Manny doesn't have a new guy in her life to take her wherever her heart desires? Is the sky still blue? Is the sun still warm? Do the Maple Leafs still play hockey?"

"J.T., are you mocking me?" Manny raised her eyebrows, chuckling on the inside as she closed her locker door with her hip. "Because you know I'm not buying your sweet little innocent thing. I won't show you any mercy just because we used to go out; I can still kick your ass."

"Whoa," he raised his palms in surrender, "someone's hostile. Really, is this what a man-less Manny looks like because I think I should just stop some guy off the street right now and pay him to—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," she threatened, shoving him clear into the middle of the hallway with her textbooks offering leverage. J.T. laughed and threw his palms up once more in defeat before leaning next to her against the wall of lockers.

"What?" she asked, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes again. "I don't know why you're so interested, but if you must know, there's nobody right now. After the whole Spinner thing I just needed to be by myself, you know?"

J.T. nodded with depth of understanding he had yet to acquire and raised his eyebrows at Spinner's name. "Yeah, not having the best luck, are you? Especially since you gave me up, I assume it all just went downhill from there—"

"Goodbye," Manny made a show of leaving, grinning when he blockaded her path. "Are you finished?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you," J.T. advised. "Flying solo for a while isn't the end of the world. Besides," he added as he spotted Liberty approaching over Manny's shoulder, "you might find that the one you're looking for was under your nose the whole time."

Liberty beamed, relaxing under J.T.'s promptly outstretched arm that he hooked over her shoulder as she leaned in to peck him softly on the lips. "You are just so sweet, pumpkin," she cooed.

"Only because you deserve it," he replied, grinning at her pleased expression.

Finally, Liberty turned her head to the third present party. "Hey, Manny."

"You guys make me sick," Manny shook her head, grinning slightly as she walked around the couple. "And jealous."

Emma stepped around the empty beer bottles lit by the everlasting bonfires she'd seen so many nights before. The picnic tables seemed grimy to her; grimy and unclean, and toxic. The people seemed even more toxic and the abundance of vans and cars with spacious back seats parked around the area made for such a surreal view that, like the first time she'd come to that spot, she wondered how it was possible that such an infested area was part of her town.

Now, as she searched for him through the smoky light, she knew that innocence could be lost at any moment. It was always teetering over the edge, just waiting to be encouraged by anything.

It was never safe like she'd thought before. Back when she was Green Peace; when she was proud to be Cause Girl, she hadn't believed such places existed because she didn't want to.

She didn't know what had made her want to.

Emma felt a slight tap on her shoulder and she swallowed heavily beneath her knitted sweater before turning her head. Looking into the eyes of the boy with the backwards cap, she had a slight suspicion at what made her want to.

"I knew you'd come," he said, and despite his best intentions to sound neutral, she was already offended and on the defense. Pulling away from his touch, she turned to face him completely and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I didn't come here to give you head if that's what you had your heart set on," she spat bitterly, and Jay seemed to recoil. His lips curved into a small smirk and she recognized a bit of the old Jay that wouldn't let her touch him with a ten foot pole.

"Such harsh language, Emma Nelson," he muttered into her ear, smiling, and when she stepped back, clearly not amused at his presumption that what she'd said was a joke, he didn't advance upon her. "Why'd you come here, then?"

She wondered when she'd stop being surprised at Jay's transparent and shallow attitude toward everything. When she told him upfront that she wasn't at the ravine to join him in the van, to earn bracelets, she'd expected an "I know" or "It's okay" or "I wasn't waiting for it." Of course, Jay asked why else she'd come. It was such a stretch for him to think that maybe she didn't want to blow him after he'd infected her and ignored the fact that it poisoned her health and reputation.

She wondered when she'd stop expecting things from him so that she wouldn't delude herself into thinking she was in a relationship.

"Not for you," she retorted without giving it much thought, and then reveled for a second in the steely look on Jay's face. Oh, he expected her to play nice, did he? But he didn't say anything right away. He stared at her long and hard, uncharacteristically studiously, then licked his lips and looked up at the sound of the van door sliding open.

"Then why?"

This was said less harshly and Emma finally saw an opening to clumsily explain her reasoning for coming that she didn't quite understand herself.

"I—"

"Do you want to sit down?" Jay asked, motioning to the picnic table they had sat on last time, and Emma stared at it for a moment before shaking her head.

"No… um, I don't have a lot of time," she muttered, looking up at him shyly. "I told my mom I had an emergency and had to go to the drugstore."

Jay nodded his head, but never took his eyes off of her. The staring really unsettled her because staring had usually been a positive thing in Emma's book. When Sean stared, it meant he was thinking about how pretty she looked in her new outfit. When Chris stared, it meant he was wondering which fruit her hair smelled like that morning.

When Jay stared, he was probably thinking about who to fuck next after she had her little heart-to-heart with him.

"I never want to come here and be with you again," Emma finally spoke, looking Jay dead in the eye. "I don't want to touch you. I don't want you to touch me and I don't want you to talk about me to any of your friends."

Jay raised an eyebrow as she spoke and looked down at his shoes, obviously preparing a retort but biting his tongue. "That's what you came here to tell me?"

Emma gauged his reaction carefully, watching for any signs of emotion, any spark of caring, any trace of humanity. But there was nothing in his face she was looking for, so she folded her arms across her chest and nodded.

"Yes, that's what I wanted to say," she replied. She wondered if he was going to get impossibly angry with her and tell her she was a stupid selfish slut like she'd seen in so many television shows. To say that she didn't know Jay Hogart was to utter the understatement of the century and, because she didn't anyone like him, she couldn't begin to predict what his reaction to something like that could be.

To her surprise, he simply nodded, a very professional air entering his demeanor.

"Okay," he said, nodded one last time and turned around, walking off in the darkness.

He spoke to her as if she was his accountant who told him she was going on vacation Thursday and wouldn't be able to take his financial calls until Sunday. He'd been so cold without actually being cold, and so detached, and now that she thought about it, she wasn't all that surprised that he reacted the way he did. It wasn't like she meant anything to him anyway.

Despite herself, she found herself staring in the direction that Jay left, watching to see if he picked up any girls.

"Previous place of employment," Manny muttered, biting her lip nervously and twirling the pen in her hand. "Choreographer at dance camp?" She furrowed her brows. "Well, the girls did take me out for burritos afterward, so that's kind of a job…"

"Manny!" a surprised voice startled her contemplative thoughts and she heard the door slam behind its owner. Whirling around, she had to fight hard from rolling her eyes and asking why God enjoyed playing cruel jokes on her. "What ar—what are you doing here?"

Not even faking a smile, she held up the sheet of paper she'd been hunched over. "Job application. They need a mail room clerk and who better qualified to do an entry-level, minimum wage job than me?"

Craig put his lips together a few times in one of his quirky grins before answering, "Well, no one, I guess. You looking to work the summer shift?"

Manny nodded, not quite enjoying the small talk. "Afraid so. I wanted to go on a cruise to the Bahamas and all was going well until my mom said that I'd have to pay for anything I will ever want—ever—with my own money. And since I don't have my own money, I'm hoping Fender Buzz Inc. will have it."

"I know what you mean," Craig sympathized airily, obviously spinning out of control with the exchange of niceties he'd initiated. "If we hadn't won that competition and had recording this summer, Joey would be shoving me out the door to find a job. Doesn't trust me at the dealership anymore." He had begun to sound like he was talking more to himself than Manny, and she noticed, head poised over the application once more.

"So, uh, you know I know Landon, the producer," Craig cleared his throat, switching his guitar case to hold with the left hand. "I could put in a good word for you, if you want."

Manny shook her head. "Oh, Craig, no. You don't have to… Well, ok. Sure. That would be great, thanks." She didn't want any help from him, or anything to do with him, honestly. She just wanted to work at a non-food or pet-related place where she was comfortable. But when Craig's face fell so obviously as she was turning him down, she couldn't say no.

"Don't mention it."

And she didn't want to. She hadn't wanted to mention anything to him or about him for a long time and she liked to keep it that way, but here he was, showing up at the place she wanted to work, invading her space with the distinct Craig-ness that she so fondly remembered loving.

Grimacing inwardly at the word 'loving' and where that got her, she steeled herself for the worst—which was working in extremely tight-knit, close quarters with Craig that, according to her job description, would be impossible—and looked Craig who seemed to be lost in a stare.

He was looking at her like he hadn't seen her in decades and his path toward the recording studio seemed to have been put on the back burner. His brown eyes bore into her brown ones and Manny prayed to God that if she met his eyes, nothing in her stomach would flutter with excitement and anticipation. She hoped on her life that there would be no spark between them that she could giggle about with Emma later because it wouldn't be like that. There wouldn't be any giggling. That would be extreme and brutal pain that rivaled dental surgery without novacane.

Sobering with that comparison, Manny cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Well, I—"

"I don't want things to be weird between us, Manny," Craig voiced suddenly, eyes still boring through her.

Taken aback and, not having thoroughly processed what he said to get properly offended, Manny's eyes cautiously looked up to meet his. Licking her lips, she opened her mouth to say something when the door opened, a strong voice carrying through it followed by the person to whom it belonged.

"Craig, what are you still doing here? The guys are…" Ashley stopped talking as soon as she noticed Manny at a table just within feet of her boyfriend, "…behind us."

Tearing his eyes away from Manny, Craig glanced back at the tall brunette looking questioningly at him. "Oh—oh, I was just going to the studio when I ran into M-Manny. She's, uh, she's applying for a job here, so…"

"Oh." Ashley's eyes roved over Manny's seated form with an air of practiced distaste and finally offered her a small smile that resembled nothing of what people wore on their faces when they were happy.

Manny returned the gesture and looked to the door as the rest of the band stumbled in. Spinner was, of course, next to walk through it because Manny's life wasn't inconvenient enough right then as it was. Noticing Manny, his lips and facial muscles tightened. Giving her a once-over, he glanced at Craig, then turned and pushed past the lead singer into what she presumed was the studio.

Marco entered last, immediately feeling the tense silence as a sign of something unusual and definitely dramatic. Noticing that Spinner was missing, he grinned at Manny.

"Did I miss something extremely uncomfortable and awkward? Because I don't feel like I did."

"Alex," she called down the hall. "Alex!"

The black-haired girl of that name turned around, nostrils flaring and foot tapping with suppressed anger. "What part of 'Bitch, stay away from me' didn't you understand?" she barked, turning around.

"Alex, will you fucking wait one minute?" Amy grabbed her ex-friend's arm.

"Bitch, don't touch me," Alex growled in a low, quiet voice, prying her arm out of the girl's grasp, and proceeding down the hall again without a second glance.

"Did it ever occur to you that I was completely wasted when I went down on your boyfriend?" Amy shouted, attracting attention from everyone student and teacher in the hall of that wing.

Alex's step faltered but for a moment before she replied bitterly, "And how many blowjobs does that excuse you from then, whore?"

Stepping in front of the girl, Amy took her harsh words without flinching, knowing that she would have said the same. "You know that I'm fucking sorry, Alex. I was never after your boyfriend sober and that's all that counts. I don't even remember blowing him and I know that's not an excuse but maybe you should focus your hating on him who was totally aware of me not being you when I was doing it."

Alex tapped her foot impatiently but didn't move from her spot and continued looking at the floor.

"Or maybe you should hate on the other girl that willingly went down on your boyfriend more than once and earned the bracelets to show for it."

Alex looked up.

Author's Note: This is my first Degrassi: The Next Generation fanfiction, so if any of you fanatics see timeline discrepancies, it wasn't intentional but works for this story in that specific way I wrote it. The story starts toward the end of Grade 11(Craig)/Grade 10 (Manny) after no particular episode. I don't own any of the characters from the show, so I suppose this is also my disclaimer. This story will continue to be rated R or M or the rating formally known as R—whatever it is has appointed now—for explicit dialogue, sex, and violence. Basically anything bad they don't want to say on Degrassi, this story will say because in real life, it would probably be said by the kids.

And finally, please do give me your thoughts. I'm going to continue this story regardless of how many reviews I get (mostly while it interests me), but it would be nice to hear what you think. Y'all should be flattered that your opinion is valued as that is so rare nowadays.

Peace,

BeachLemon