Author's Note: Honestly, THE WORST piece of fiction I've ever written, but I was bored, haven't written anything Degrassi-related in a while, and there was a Get Smart biography on A&E the other night. So, yeah. Read and review, suckers.
"99"
"You like him, don't you?"
Manny Santos. I should have known. Wherever there is a vulnerable Craig Manning, there is a conniving, expecting Manny Santos.
I shift atop of the stool near the bar and glare at her. "Excuse me?" I ask, forcing my most vicious tone of voice, though it seems more fragile than it does strong and intimidating.
"Craig; you like him. I can tell." Her words ring through me and I want to blink her away, but she does not budge, and rather, awaits an answer. A swarm of words scrambled through my mind and I feel suddenly dizzy. She smiles knowingly and I want to resort to violence, but find myself picking at the straw in my virgin strawberry daiquiri, as I watch out of the corner of my eye as Craig sets up his equipment for another gig.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I muster, though the slight stuttering of my statement seems to point a neon flashing green arrow that reads LIAR toward my flushed cheeks.
"Look, I've been there." she says, eying me. "You have that same look, you know? Like, if you ever take your eyes off of him, he'll disappear."
I scrunch my nose and plaster my most disgusted look upon my face, hoping she'll choke on the cherry she places between her plump lips. I hate her. "You're on crack."
She chuckles and the sound echoes through the room, causing Craig to look up from his guitar. Manny smiles and Craig grins; I try to remain calm, although a rush of cold cascades through my body. "Ellie, it's so obvious." I really fucking hate her.
"What do you want, Manny?" I sigh exasperatingly and hunch over.
"Did I say I wanted anything? I'm here for the same reason you are." She tucks stray brunette tresses behind her ears and I gaze at her as the strands merely fall back in to place alongside the frame of her face.
"And what's that?" I question, eying her suspiciously.
"Him, Craig," she says, nodding toward him.
"You're here for Craig?" I say, though I groan inwardly at my stupid question.
Manny remains silent for a moment before readjusting her positioning atop of her stool so that her view of Craig is impeccable. "You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now, huh? There's just something about him, though, that you can't ever forget. After all the drama he caused, I took him back, Ash took him back. It's like this cycle or something; sick and twisted cycle of doom. And we can never let go, not really."
I scowl and hope she sees. "If you're going to preach to me about how much you miss Craig, about how much you and Craig are meant to be and whatever other remnants of Nicholas Sparks novels you've got stuck inside of that over-obsessed head of yours, could you cut me some slack and save it for someone who cares?"
Manny smirks, rolling her eyes and I am frustrated beyond control. "You're jealous. It's sort of weird, though, because I don't even want him. Not really, not as a boyfriend or whatever. But you do. And it's so . . . I don't know what the word is---sad, maybe—that he wants the same thing that I want: someone there, to make you numb while you continue on completely oblivious to all that's around you."
"Why are you saying this to me? If you think I like him, why would you tell me all of this? To make me feel bad? Are you that cruel and coldhearted?" I slam my hand flat against the countertop and wince at the slight pain it's caused. But the rush of the pain feels soothing and I can't understand why.
"I'm looking out for you, Ellie," she says, "before you get sucked in like I did. Once you're in, you can never really let it go. But you're not there, yet, I don't think. I'm pretty sure you're not. I'm not doing this viciously, El. I'm seriously trying to do what's best for you."
I exhale sharply and gawk at her disbelievingly. "By tearing me apart? By telling me that Craig could never like me the way I like him? How is that looking out for me?"
Manny shrugs and takes the cherry sitting within the glass that once held my daiquiri. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. "I can see how much you want him, how much you want to be with him. And no matter the signals he's giving you, I know that he'll never return your feelings, because he's just not there. You're, like, the confidante, El. You're his 99. And that's all you'll ever be."
"You are aware that Smart and 99 marry and have twin children, right?"
"Whatever," Manny stands then, ambling toward Craig. He grins at her; a wide grin that I have never before seen. And it scares me. I wish I'd seen it before. I wish I'd been the one he'd given it to. I wish that Manny hadn't said those things to me, and I wish I didn't feel so insecure about it, either.
You're his 99.
And he's my 86.