A/N: For those who don't check my profile, it's my first year teaching, so I can't promise too much regularity. But on a three day weekend, I can crank out the 20-30 pages that is an update. I hope you enjoy. Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi or anything of Barbara Striesand's. If I did, well, we'd only have an episode once every three months or so, eh?
Cornelius held the knife point against Blair's throat, pressing ever so slightly into the tender skin.
"Don't come a step closer Lord Winsor or I'll gut her like a fish!" he threatened.
Jeremy felt his heart clench in his chest as he saw the love of his life in the arm's of his greatest enemy. "Don't do anything rash, Sanders. There's still time to come to a reasonable solution to this whole matter."
"It's too late. I've already killed a man," Cornelius declared.
Blair couldn't stop the cry of horror as she heard his words. What if one of her brothers had already died in her defense?
The cry may have been small, but it provided Jeremy all the opportunity he needed. Taking advantage of his opponent's distracted look, he grabbed Cornelius' arm with the knife with all his might, twisting it away from his beloved.
Blair rolled away from the fight, but could only watch helplessly as the two men sank to the ground. She saw a puddle of blood and whispered Jeremy's name, afraid of the response she might get.
She knew she should run down the hall and wake the staff, alert everyone to the mad man's presence, but she stood frozen in place, terrified of what might happen next.
Finally the tangled mass of bodies started moving. Could it be?
"Jeremy!" She screamed, throwing herself into his arms.
"Oh, darling, darling Blair," he whispered into her hair as he caressed her. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but oh, Jeremy, I was so frightened. Are you alright?"
"Don't worry about me, darling. And don't worry about Cornelius. He won't ever bother you or anyone else again," Jeremy proclaimed.
"Oh, Jeremy, please, take me now!"
I slammed shut the paperback romance and threw it across the room with a force that surprised me a little. It hit a small picture frame and knocked it clattering to the floor. I used to love the stupid things, but since school last week it was hard to escape into the fantasy world they offered.
Life threatening situations didn't seem all that exotic and romantic when they involved your best friend. In fact they seemed more than a little ridiculous. I doubted Emma had immediately asked Sean, 'Take me now!'
'Former best friend' I reminded myself harshly.
"Manuella, is everything alright?" I heard my mom call from downstairs.
I walked to the door of my room. "A picture fell, Mom. It's nothing!"
I walked over to the discarded book and kicked it under the bed angrily as I bent down to retrieve the picture that had fallen. It was one of me and Emma, taken at my fifth birthday party, both wearing dress up clothes and heels. We had wanted so much to grow up. Now I just wanted to turn back time to any time before last Friday, preferably before Emma and my stupid fight, when everything was simpler.
I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes as I realized once again how close I had come to losing my oldest friend. The Liberty/Chris/Emma thing now seemed so petty and ridiculous a situation to lose a friendship over. For the millionth time this weekend I reached for the phone.
I actually dialed the first four numbers of Emma's cell phone before I hung up. What was I going to say? Sorry I wasn't there for you when a psycho stalker tried to kill you?
I kept thinking that this was in some way my fault. Yes, Emma's attempt to prevent Liberty and Chris from hooking up was more shallow than I would have thought possible from her, but did I really have to tell everyone? It wasn't any worse than anything I'd done last year and I knew how hard it was to be the outcast. Why did I make Emma have to be perfect while everyone else got to be themselves?
I suppose some part of me felt guilty for dating JT at the time and not caring for him like I should, even when I knew Liberty still had feelings for him. It was easier to make Emma the bad guy –er, girl, then to admit that my own crime was just as bad, if not worse. If I hadn't isolated Emma from all her friends: Liberty, JT and myself, maybe she wouldn't have gotten to know Rick. She would have been just an oblivious student in the school, not a target on a list.
That's what the news said at least. He had a list.
I knew deep down that wasn't entirely true. Emma would have still befriended Rick and tried to help him because that's who she was. Even under her new clothes and make up, she was still the same old Emma, who put her nose everywhere, not because she wanted to hurt others, but because she wanted to save the world, one high school student at a time. Even if her methods weren't always the best. But I could have been there. I could have . . . What, Manuella? What could you have done?
That was the worst part about all of this. The feeling of utter helplessness. Emma could have died on Friday and nothing I said or did had had any bearing on what had happened or what could have happened.
Jimmy Brooks was still in critical condition. Yes, he would probably live, but he may never walk again. I didn't know Jimmy all that well, but I knew Hazel. Jimmy had always seemed the perfect boyfriend. The perfect friend period. So why had this happened to him? It just didn't make any sense.
Toby had been there, too. Good old Toby, who had been ditched by his best friend, had tried to befriend the other Degrassi outcast and could have been killed for his efforts.
And Sean. Lord knows I had written him off like so many others had after last year and all the stuff he pulled. I was no longer pulling for an Emma and Sean reunion like the one I orchestrated in Grade 8. I wanted that loser to stay far, far away from my friend. Even if I was staying just as far away. But thankfully, he hadn't. He had been close by. He had risked his life to save Emma.
I suppose that on paper it did have a romance novel quality to it. Sean and Emma bicker like crazy with their on-again, off-again romance. Sean saves her life, Emma falls into his arms. In reality, though, I was convinced no other emotion could survive that moment other than the overpowering fear. If I felt this dread in the pit of my stomach just thinking about it, I could only imagine what Emma was feeling. I needed to talk to her, but not over the phone.
It had to be in person. But there was no way my parents would let me out this late. After the abortion last year, I'm lucky my parents hadn't shipped me to the convent! My dad certainly had tried. I would just have to wait and talk to her in school tomorrow.
Feeling more calm, now that I had come to a conclusion, I turned off my bedside lamp and went to sleep.
I woke up with my alarm and went through the morning routine, various scenarios playing through my head. Emma accepting my apology and the two of us pretending to be twelve again – not likely. Emma screaming at me that everything was 'all my fault,' again, not very likely. More likely, Emma apologizing to me first and me feeling like I'm once again the crappy friend.
"Manuella, breakfast!" I heard my mother shout from downstairs.
I glanced in my mirror to make sure my hair was parted straight and centered. 'Because in the aftermath of a shooting tragedy it's important to make sure you look good?' my inner voice mocked. I shoved the thought away. Old habits die hard is all.
My mother had made blueberry waffles, a sure sign that she was going to make a request of me or my brothers. From the scraps on various plates I gathered my brothers had already made their escapes, which left me.
I sat down reluctantly, reaching for the milk. I didn't have to wait long.
"Manuella." My mother looked hesitant, as if afraid to confront me as she wiped her hands on the front of her apron. "You know that you don't have to go back to school."
"I know," I said, cutting my waffle with more precision and concentration than the task needed, doing anything to avoid her gaze. She was trying to tell me something bigger than just today, but I didn't want to hear it. I couldn't deal with anything until I worked out things with Emma. "But I want to be there in case Emma needs me."
"What can you do to help?" She wasn't trying to be rude; she was trying to be practical, but it hit so close to my own thoughts I lashed out.
"I'm not hungry," I angrily said, pushing back from the table.
"But it's your favorite. Don't be a baby, eat your waffle," she instructed.
"Mom. I'm not a baby. And I need to go back to Degrassi," I used a tone more forceful than I had ever done with my mother before. I reached for my purple messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder.
"Manuella," my mother said my name like a prayer or a plea and I froze hand hovering over the doorknob. "When I said you don't have to go back to that school, I didn't mean today. Your father and I were talking and we can find the money. There is a private girls' school around the corner. It would be much safer. When I said you don't have to go back, I meant ever."
When my mother said safer I wasn't sure if she meant in regards to Rick – or Craig. I looked at her, willing her to stop with my eyes. "I know," I replied softly, letting the door slam as I ran down the walk.
I would be lying if I said that the offer didn't tempt me. I was far past the 'ewww, school without boys' mindset I had had back in Grade 8. It would be so, so easy to run away from all of this. To not have to be reminded of how I almost lost my best friend in that hallway. How Craig had screamed at me for 'killing our baby' right there. But . . . to leave now? After I had battled through the stigma of last year to a place where I was Manny Santos again and not "that slut who got pregnant"? To leave the Spirit Squad? To leave the place where Emma and I had our first dates and first dances, first everythings.
As I reached the newscasters and reporters swarming over the steps of Degrassi I pushed thoughts of escape out of my mind. There was time for that later. Now . . . now I needed to focus on finding Emma in this giant circus.
I suppose I was late, although I didn't realize that grief counseling sessions required a timely arrival. Everyone appeared to have been sorted by some random grouping into different classrooms. Grades didn't seem to matter nor did gender or anything else. I saw Ellie and Sean take the last two chairs in Ms. Sauve's gym session and decided to try some place else.
After finding two more closed doors, I decided to try Mr. Simpson's door. If Emma was anywhere, she'd be here, or so I thought. Mr. Simpson was reaching the last point on his chart, but when he saw me hovering in the doorway he waved me in. I quickly took a seat on a back table, letting my bag slide to the floor as quietly as possible. I had a feeling trying to be unseen and unheard was the new Degrassi way. Quite a bit different than my attempts at eye-catching fashion last year; today I wanted anything but all eyes on me.
"There's no excuse. None for what Rick did, but labeling him a monster is not gonna help us understand why it happened," Mr. Simpson was telling everyone.
"Rick was bullied, really bad," I heard Toby say. His words were small; in fact Toby himself looked small.
"Come on Toby, don't make Rick the victim," Craig chastised.
"I'm not." Toby's words made it seem like it was a battle he had been fighting all weekend. "Just . . . think how he must have felt."
I had been so caught up in thoughts of Emma and Toby and Jimmy and Sean that I hadn't stopped to think about Rick at all. How could you ever feel that desperate? That alone? It was a scary thought that someone had reached that place. Scarier still that no one had noticed.
"Do you ever feel that desperate? That angry? You need to talk to an adult before it reaches a crisis point." Mr. Simpson had gone into lecture mode.
I remembered back to after I had my abortion, shuddering at the wave of emotion I usually tried to keep forced down – even then I had had Emma and JT. I always knew someone cared. Even if the rest of the school made me feel like a leper. And Spike – having an adult on my side had made all the difference in the world. Even my mother had surprised me. What was Rick's mother going through?
"What if nobody listens?" Toby wondered out loud.
"Then keep trying. Somebody will." Mr. Simpson sounded more hopeful than honest. Because someone hadn't.
"So what? We're supposed to rat?" Craig's words made me wonder, not for the first time what attracted me to him. Wouldn't you have wanted someone to rat on Rick? Wasn't our lives, Jimmy's safety worth telling someone and breaking the 'cool kid' vibe that you seemed to thrive on?
"It's not about getting people in trouble Craig. It's about getting them and you out of trouble." Simpson looked at his watch. "And on that note, I'm done here. As you all know Ms. Sauve is doing sessions in the gym and there are other therapists you can see if you want something more one on one, but other than that this is a study and reflection day. There is a list of available counseling groups and locations in the main lobby and all of your teachers have study hall type sessions where you can get your questions answered for your classes."
The students slowly filed out. Time in general just seemed to move more slowly since last Friday.
"Mr. Simpson?" I asked coming forward when the room had emptied.
"Manny?" I had never before noticed before how old Mr. Simpson looked. Even shaving his head for our fundraiser, knowing he might die of cancer, he had been more upbeat and less serious than he was now. It was sobering.
"Have you seen Emma at all? I wanted . . ." my voice trailed off. I wanted to what? Apologize? Talk to her? Hug her? Scream at her? All of the above and then some.
Mr. Simpson seemed to know exactly what I was going for. "Emma's around Manny. She was going to try and get an appointment for private counseling and then perhaps try the chemistry lab?"
I smiled, some of my confidence and resolve returning. "Thanks, Mr. S. Trust Emma to look after her grades."
Mr. Simpson smiled at the nickname but didn't seem to agree with my assessment of Emma's motivation. It didn't matter. I would find her; we would work through our stuff and everything would be fine. Just fine.
As I left Simpson's room I caught him holding his head in his hands out of the corner of my eye, silently, unintentionally mocking my thoughts. I hadn't walked far when I saw Emma. The blonde hair and height should have given her away immediately, but there was something hesitant about her. She looked like a scared rabbit, twitching to either side.
I came up to her side as she bent over the water fountain and started to put my hand on her forearm before jerking it back. You weren't supposed to touch someone who had been through a scare without permission . . . or was that just for rape. I wasn't sure, but I didn't want to startle Em.
She came up from the fountain and caught my eye, straightening. I just stared. Suddenly the words I had practiced the night before and on the way here left me and I had nothing to say. "Em . . ." my voice trailed away, as her eyes regained some of their earlier steel.
"Here to remind me that I am the meanest person ever? First Liberty, then Rick stomped beneath – what was it? Pointy ballerina feet? Here to tell me that you're surprised that someone else didn't try to get to me first? Cause newsflash, I already got the memo," Emma's voice was so filled with hurt and anger that all I could do was just watch. "Or maybe you just want to stare at me; stare at the girl that someone wanted dead. Well, take a good look," and with that she rushed away, tears streaming down her face.
"EMMA!" I started to follow, but she had turned into Mr. Simpson's room. As I reached the doorway, I caught a glimpse of her in Sean's arms. Chances were she needed him a lot more than she needed me right now. He had been there when she really needed someone. I had been in French class.
I walked down the hall to where one of Sauve's sessions was just letting out. I saw Paige and Hazel leaning on each other for support and was reminded of what best friends were supposed to be like . . . unlike Emma and my dysfunctional relationship.
Ellie stormed by me and I wondered if she had some 6th sense knowing that Sean and Emma were together. That girl was seriously fighting destiny on this one.
I wandered into the gym and took a seat. I don't know what I expected Ms. Sauve to do. Miraculously erase years of conflict between me and Em? Help me find my voice where she was concerned? I don't know. But it was a start.
I didn't recognize most of the people in the room. There were some Grade 12's from Jimmy's basketball team, Krystle, a grade 10 who I recognized from classes I had with Emma and, surprisingly – Alex. What would a social reject be doing here? Growing a conscience? Emma may have planned the ribbon campaign, but it was no school secret that Alex had given it all of its bite. To see her here was mind blowing.
As soon as all the seats were filled Ms. Sauve began. "All of you are here because you may feel confused, angry, guilty, hurt or anything that happened last Friday. Maybe you don't know what you're feeling. For you, I have a solution."
I leaned forward anxiously. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, and Ms. Sauve sounded like she had it all figured out. Until she pulled out the mask. It looked like a reject from a bad production of The Phantom of the Opera, white paper mache with a long handle. This was Sauve's grand plan?
One of the basketball players snorted derisively. He stopped as Alex stared him down.
"This will help you. I know a lot of you aren't comfortable with the image you have here at Degrassi, but maybe if you let go of that you can come to terms with what happened and begin to move on," Sauve explained. "Three statements. I am, I want, I need. Share what you want, only what you feel comfortable with."
Surprisingly, Krystle reached out for the mask first. "I am Emma Nelson's Chem partner. I want to know how someone could have wanted to kill her. I need to feel safe at Degrassi again."
I wanted to listen. She was asking my questions, voicing my needs and all I could think of was, "I am the phantom of mu-sique!" So much for this helping. But I couldn't leave, not then at least. Standing and walking out would cause way too much therapist attention to be directed my way. I could sit it out. It was only an hour.
I tuned out the jocks and the random people who talked only about how it affected their own small lives. One even went so far as to say "I am captain of the varsity team. I want to win the championship. I need Jimmy Brooks to come back healthy and soon."
I wondered how much of my wanting to make things right with Emma was what I wanted and needed and how much would actually help Emma. Eventually, Ms. Sauve turned her gaze on me. I could feel Alex's eyes boring into me and I squirmed a bit, uncomfortable under her stare.
"Manuella, we haven't heard from you yet," she said, holding out the paper maché mask.
"It's Manny and I don't need the mask," I said, crossing my arms tight across my chest.
"How about the statements?" Sauve asked still trying.
"Umm, sure." I shrugged as if to say 'why the hell not.' As if my heart wasn't pounding wildly at the idea that maybe, just maybe, this might help me work through the thoughts that had run through my head since last Friday. "I am . . . I am Emma's best friend. Well, I was at least. I guess now, I'm her oldest friend. I want . . ." I was surprised at how hard this was. No one else had really teared up or had difficulty talking. But I could barely finish a simple sentence. "I want someone to tell me what to do – or to turn back time. I need . . . I just need to feel like this isn't somehow my fault."
Ms. Sauve rolled her chair close to me, placing a hand on my knee. "Manuella – Manny, its not uncommon for those who have been close to someone who died or almost died to feel guilty, as if they could have prevented the situation. It's called survivor guilt. No matter what your relationship with Emma, I'm sure she'd be glad to know you care. Just be there for her, that's all you can do."
I looked around the room, trying to avoid Sauve's earnest, yet strangely intimidating eye contact and settled on Alex's face. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me her eyes almost misted at the description of survivor guilt. As soon as Emma's name was mentioned, however, she once again clouded up into the unfeeling Alex DCS knew so well.
Ms. Sauve wouldn't move on to the next victim, er, student until I met her gaze. I did so, willing myself to smile shyly at the sincere look and hand squeeze she gave me. I knew that Ms. Sauve meant well, really, but there was something about her earnestness that was more than a little off-putting.
She did a slow turn around the circle like a predator slowly stalking us before settling on Alex. "Alexandra, we haven't heard from you yet. Would you like the mask?"
"I don't do masks," she said disdainfully. "And its time to go. I put my hour in."
And with that she got up and strode out of the gymnasium. So much for my theory that Alex felt guilty over whatever role she and her loser boyfriend had played. She probably only attended to avoid suspicion.
Ms. Sauve looked extremely flustered by Alex's departure. "Right. Well. It's – uh, it's important to keep in mind that none of us are responsible for anyone's actions but our own. If you keep that in mind and try to do your best to take responsibility for your own actions there's no reason Degrassi shouldn't come through this stronger than ever. And there's always help. Don't ever give up."
I had tuned out most of her words lost in my thoughts about exactly what I would do if I found myself alone with Alex. Her big bad attitude didn't scare me. I would show her exactly what happened to folks who messed with my best . . . I was startled by the scraping of metal chairs across the gym floor, signaling the session was indeed over. I quickly grabbed my bag. I didn't want to be the last one left with Sauve. Judging from the rush to the door it seemed like no one really did.
I decided to try and find Emma again. If what I was feeling could be described as survivor guilt, then I didn't want to know what her level of guilt was. Here to remind me that I am the meanest person ever? Remembering her earlier outburst, I'd say pretty high.
I walked more purposefully towards Mr. Simpson's classroom. I would try again.
"Then he threw the computer monitor to the ground, Jody!" A blond in front of me abruptly stopped and I had to slow down to avoid running into her from behind. She remained standing there, blocking the path, totally oblivious to the fact that I couldn't get around her.
"So he's gone?" Her friend asked incredulously, moving if it was at all possible, further into my way.
"Took off in his best friend's car in a squeal of tires. Not only that? But he brought both girls with him!" The toss of her blond mane identified the speaker as none other than Heather Sinclair. Guess someone had finally recovered from her bout of the kissing disease, I noted.
"No way!" Jody Mantenko had to be the other girl. I started to back away in disbelief. Didn't they realize their gossip was just as hurtful as the bullying that led to last week? Here it was a day of healing and they were still spreading pain.
I turned around to leave, disgusted, when Heather's voice stopped me. "Yup. I mean, I knew Sean was sleeping with them both, but I didn't realize they knew about each other," Heather declared.
Sean? As in Sean Cameron? Well, throwing objects and driving off angry certainly sounded like the Sean Cameron I knew . . . but sleeping around didn't sound like him at all.
Jody seemed to agree with me. "Are you sure about that? I mean, yeah, he lives with the vampire, so you have to figure they were getting it on. But Emma Nelson? She's so virginal despite her recent makeover."
Heather laughed, although it sounded more like a cackle. "Are you kidding? He saved her life! If that didn't lead to some gratitude sex, well, then I don't know what you have to do to get the frigid little girl into bed. Plus, you should have seen the way he basically ordered her into the car. 'You coming or what?' He has got her wrapped around his not so little . . ."
I had fought the urge to turn around and give the girls a piece of my mind right up to the frigid reference. By the time Heather was trying to explain what Sean had Emma wrapped around, I had dropped my bag and crossed the steps separating me from the Spirit Squad wannabes.
"Oh, look, Heather, the school slut wants a word with you," Jody said, rolling her overly made up eyes on me.
"You know what? That's getting really old, Jerraldine," I retorted, drawing out the syllables of her full name.
"How did you . . ." her voice trailed away as Heather smirked at her.
"We pulled official records during spirit squad try outs to check if you met the minimum GPA. But let's get one thing straight." I tried to keep my voice level, but all the anger I had stored for days threatened to bubble over. "You both stop spreading vicious rumors and hate around this school. Don't you see what it's led to? If I ever hear you talking about Emma that way . . ."
"You'll what? Tell her Daddy? Get me blocked from his computer lab?" Heather rolled her eyes. "It's only words, Manuella. And unlike your friend, no one's ever tried to kill me over them."
I had one hand wrapped around her hair twisting her head back before she had finished her hateful little sentence. I cocked my right arm to deliver the right hook my brothers had taught me so well, when I felt my arm restrained.
"Manny, stop! Let go of her!" Craig's voice froze me and I let go of Heather's hair, although not before pulling out a few of the pressure golden hairs viciously. I stepped back watching the strands drift out of my hand and onto the floor, before turning a challenging glare towards the girls.
"Control your psycho slut, Manning," Heather spat at me and Craig had to grab both my arms as I leapt towards her again.
"Spread your trash somewhere else, Sinclair. Does it matter to you at all that someone died here just days ago? That Jimmy could have?" Craig sounded so hurt that for a moment all I wanted to do was comfort him and forget about everything else. 'Down that path lies disaster, Manuella,' I told myself.
"Whatever." It wasn't the best walk-off line ever, but you couldn't tell by the way Heather tossed her head and strode down the hall. "Your name is Jerraldine?" I heard her snark at Jody and felt a momentary victory.
It was short-lived as I turned to face Craig. He looked at me disappointed. "You know for all your talk about growing up last year? Starting a fight today? That's real mature, Manny." I bit back a retort about maturity and using the term 'rat' this morning.
"She was talking trash about Sean and Emma. After all that they've gone through do you think I'd let that just go?" I shook my head in disbelief as I returned to my messenger bag.
"Everyone's talking about Sean and Emma, if you haven't noticed. You going to beat them all up?" Craig sounded like he was enjoying the idea of me taking on the whole school, and as I looked up I saw that little smile that had melted me so many times before. "It's just words."
"Just words. Like the word 'freak' painted on a locker. Like the word 'loser' taped to someone's back. Like any of the words that could have killed Emma last Friday?" I was crying now despite my best efforts. I hated crying in front of Craig, but it seemed like he was the only person I could cry in front of.
"Manny." His voice sounded tired and apologetic all at once and he pulled me into a hug. I resisted only slightly. "We both know that words weren't the only reason that Rick brought that gun to school." He pulled back slightly and lifted my chin till I was staring up at him. "And we both know that if words alone could break a person, there was no way you would be standing here, strong enough to take on twelve Heather Sinclairs after last year."
I felt, rather than saw him move closer and I knew he was going to try and kiss me. I also knew that I couldn't let it happen. Not now. Not again. I couldn't go through that one more time. I pulled back abruptly. "I . . . gotta go. Find Emma . . . or someone."
As I dashed a way I caught a glimpse of Spinner over Craig's right shoulder. Great. Spin and I had only been out once since he and Paige's break. I don't even know if you could call me meeting him after his shift at the Dot for a milkshake a date, really, but it had been the closest thing I'd had to a good time, since I broke up with JT . . . maybe before that even. It had been guilt free, something I hadn't felt with a boy since . . . well, ever. JT always came with the knowledge I was breaking Liberty's heart. Craig. Don't get me started on Craig. However, knowing about Spinner's jealousy issues I doubt there would be more milkshakes if he thought I wasn't over Craig Manning.
I was halfway to Mr. Simpson's office when Jody and Heather's words stopped me. Emma had left. With Sean, Ellie and Jay apparently, if any of their words could be trusted. Chances are that was not a group outing that had parental approval and I doubt Emma would be more likely to forgive me if I ratted her out to her dad. 'Now who's worried about tattle-telling. Maybe this is one of those times you should go to an adult?' an inner voice reasoned.
For some reason, though, I didn't go tell Mr. Simpson that Emma had ditched. After the past weekend, I trusted Sean and knew that wherever they were going was probably most where Emma needed to be.
I turned the corner to walk home and suddenly found myself in the hallway. The one where Jimmy had been shot. Right in front of his own locker. A mini shrine of sorts had been erected. Signs were taped on his locker door while cards, flowers and even a stuffed bear holding a basketball crowded the floor in front of it. I started to turn, to leave another way, but the sight of Toby crouching in front of it, made me hesitate.
Emma was gone for the day, but she wasn't the only friend I had nearly lost. I flashed back to moments of the Fab Four in Grade 7: JT, Emma, Toby and I. Playing on tire swings or just staring at the sky we were inseparable. What had happened to us?
I approached behind me, wringing my hands, trying to think of the right thing to say. 'Don't repeat this morning with Emma; Say something,' my inner voice commanded.
"I didn't know Jimmy had so many friends," I heard my voice like someone else was speaking. It wasn't the best opening line, but staring at the multitude of cards below, it was true at least. A start.
Toby seemed to sigh in defeat. "Jody Matenko, Heather Sinclair . . ." he gestured with the card he was holding and I pushed my hair from my face trying not to think about how sincere I thought their cards were. "A lot of these are from strangers."
"Really?" I said crouching down. Mostly to keep from saying something I would regret about the two individuals he had named. My anger had no place if I was trying to comfort Tobes.
"People that don't even know Jimmy care about him. My own friends won't talk to me," Toby said, sounding not as if he was sorry for himself, but matter of fact. It made it that much more heartbreaking.
I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to show that I understood. Emma wasn't exactly talking to me right now, either.
He looked at my hand as if surprised anyone was willing to touch him. As if he was contagious for some social disease. "I have to go to Rick's visitation tonight but I can't face his mom."
I smiled. This was exactly the time it paid to have a practical joker as a best friend. JT may not be mature enough to handle a serious relationship, but he had always helped make difficult situations bearable. "What about JT?"
"What about him?" Toby asked looking at me.
I stared ahead. There was no way JT was letting Toby go through this alone. No one could be intentionally that cruel when their best friend was suffering. Although JT had tried to ditch Toby for popularity before, this situation was about more than stupid social status. Or at least, should be. Toby must have misunderstood. I hoped at least.
"JT will come around," I reassured Toby. "But even if he doesn't, I'll go with you tonight."
"Really?" the look on Toby's face was so incredulous it reminded me that maybe I wasn't much better than JT when it came to keeping up old friendships. 'But I will be,' I resolved.
"Really," I repeated firmly. "What time?"
"7 p.m. Kate's driving me at quarter till," he was staring at me as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Are you sure?"
"Toby, this is what friends are for. I'll be at your house at quarter to seven," I stood up and grabbed my bag.
To my surprise, he jumped up and hugged me. I hugged him back briefly, before excusing myself from the awkward situation. Toby shouldn't have to doubt that someone would be there for him. It was time I had a little talk with my ex.
I planned on calling him as soon as I got home, but as luck would have it I glimpsed his lanky figure and Danny's 'fro as they exited the school.
"JT!" I called, ducking through the doorway they had just left through.
He turned his head ever so slightly, feigning that he couldn't recognize my voice, before he responded overly politely. "Manny how are you?"
So that's how you want to play it? "I'm alright." I responded in the same cheerful tone, before I descended into lecture. "Better than a certain best friend of yours."
JT stared at me as if his and Toby's friendship was a forbidden secret. "Ex best friend. That was before he joined forces with Hellboy, who I know is a superhero but whatever." I tuned out his ramblings about superheroes and focused on the animosity with which he spit out the prefix "ex." Apparently the shooting hadn't affected JT with the same levels of guilt about friendship.
I tuned back in time to hear Danny's 'oh, so brilliant' analysis. "Toby's a geek. He always has been."
"Okay, you out-geek them all James Tiberius York, but Toby was always there for you." 'And he never references obscure superheroes when I talk to him,' I mentally added.
JT turned to face me as I stopped walking. "Tiberius is a family name alright?"
I ignored that gem of a comeback. "If you hadn't ditched him for Webster here he would have never hooked up with Rick," I couldn't conceal a little of my earlier anger from coming out. Did he not see how all of us were responsible for Rick? Punishing Toby wasn't going to help anyone.
"And you're lecturing me on ditching people. Hmm." JT appeared to contemplate this with a smug look. I didn't regret ditching him; in that moment I regretted we had ever hooked up to be ditched.
I was sorely tempted to slug him as well, but instead I took a long breath. "Now I remember why we broke up. You just can't be the bigger man." I stared at JT trying to will him to grow up by sheer force of my mind, but it was a lost cause. I turned slightly to walk past the geek twins. Maybe Toby was better off finding new friends. It was scary to think that JT was worse at friendship than an attempted murderer. Scarier to think I had ever thought that I could be with someone like that.
I took the long way home, past the old tire swing that we had sat on eating popsicles and playing with squirt guns the summer before Degrassi. The playground I would take Angela to with Emma, hoping her big brother would stop by and I could catch a glimpse of Degrassi's newest hunk. Back then, everything had seemed possible. Now, everything just seemed wasted.
In reality I was just working up the nerve to face my mother again. She wouldn't give up so easily on me leaving Degrassi. I had to have solid reasons if I was going to withstand her. One, Emma needs me. So she had screamed at me and left with Sean, but I was sure once I apologized she would see the need to have her best friend around. Two, I would miss Spinner and boys in general. While Spinner had made me feel better about being myself than any guy had in a while, any chances of a second date, or even an official first date were probably blown by seeing me with Craig. And, thinking back to Craig in general, maybe a school without boys wasn't such a bad thing. Three, Toby needs me.
There. That was the silver bullet. The one thing that I had managed to do right today. Toby was counting on me to be there for him tonight and if JT managed to keep the title of world's biggest jackass perhaps even longer than he would need me at Degrassi to be in his corner.
I glanced at my watch and realized I had dawdled away enough time. I had time now to eat, shower, change and make it to Mrs. Kerwin's. And exactly not enough time to argue with my mother.
As I approached my door, however, the house was strangely quiet. A note was left on the kitchen table. Benito had a basketball game tonight and my family had all gone to cheer him on. There was leftover pancit in the fridge. I heated up the noodles quickly, feeling slightly guilty for being relieved I was the only one home. I ate before going upstairs and trying to find 'funeral suitable' attire. I suppose I should feel grateful that there hasn't been much need for a black wardrobe, but I was mostly annoyed that the only clean black top I could find was zip-up with racing stripes on the sides. At least it wasn't low cut, I reminded myself.
Within an hour I had showered, blow dried my hair and dressed. I scribbled a note on the back of the one my parents' had left earlier, explaining where I had been. They would be angry, but they had my cell number. After last year they had made sure they could find me at all times. I turned the cell phone off thinking of how awkward it would be to have my phone ring during the visitation. It wouldn't help the situation with my parents, but right now was about Toby, not them. I just hoped I would see daylight again after tonight.
It was a short walk to the Kerwins. I stood nervously on the step after ringing the door bell. I tended to avoid coming over to Toby's for reasons that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with . . .
"Ashley!" I gasped as she opened the door. I hadn't seen her at school today and her pajamas indicated that maybe she hadn't been there at all. She looked like she hadn't slept or showered since last Friday.
"What are you doing here?" her voice was filled with venom and surprise.
"I'm here – to see your uh - ," I lost my nerve something about Ashley was always intimidating. Despite how horrible she had been last year it was easy to slip into guilt over the whole thing with Craig. I had been so obsessed with him I hadn't cared who had gotten hurt in the process.
"She's here to see me," Toby appeared over Ashley's shoulder wearing a button down shirt. "Kate's taking us to Rick's visitation."
Ashley opened her mouth as if she was going to insult me and then closed it hard. "You're wearing that?" she finally said.
"Umm." If I felt uncomfortable before with my lack of funeral attire, now I felt positively naked.
"KATE! Manny's here," Toby yelled back into the house. "Let's go wait by the car."
I could hear Ashley muttering about Toby's continuing poor choice in friends, but I let it pass. If this was the type of support Toby was receiving at home and JT was ignoring him at school, then he needed to have something that was drama-free. I laughed softly at me, Manuella Santos being the drama free part of anything.
It seemed to remind Toby of my presence as we walked to his almost-step-mother's car. "I didn't think you'd come," he admitted sheepishly.
I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it slightly. "I said I would."
"Thanks." Toby smiled at me, as Mrs. Kerwin came bustling down the drive.
"Okay, ready, kids?" She unlocked the door and we clambered inside. "Seatbelts!"
I liked Kate Kerwin in spite of her daughter. She was so down to earth and supportive. She was the perfect in between of Spike who was cool to the point of major embarrassment and my mom, strict and guilt-trippy.
We drove to the funeral home in silence, well, other than the classical music that dominated Kate's radio station in the car. Mozart and Mrs. Kerwin made sense. Very classy.
"Call when you want to be picked up!" Mrs. Kerwin shouted at us as we climbed out of the car.
I fingered my cell phone in my pocket guiltily. It remained off.
"Sure," Toby agreed, not really paying attention. He was staring at the door of the funeral parlor, looking terrified.
I stood next to him for a moment, letting him collect himself. "So? Are you ready?" I asked, searching his face for confirmation.
"Ready." He repeated sounding anything but.
I led the way into the building without looking back, hoping my feigned confidence would rub off on him.
Signs and a steady stream of people pointed us to a door. Outside was an easel of pictures. In some it was easy to recognize Rick's familiar frame. In others he was a baby. It was easy to feel sorry for him. Easy to forget why we were here. Until you spied the picture of him and Terri. You wouldn't notice the bruise on her cheek if you weren't looking. I recognized the picture as one Paige and Hazel had been passing around at practice one day last year. There was also a picture of Jimmy, Emma, Toby and Rick taken right before 'Whack Your Brain.'
I nudged Toby's elbow to signal I was going inside the room and felt him follow right behind. Mrs. Murray was leaning on her son's casket, staring at a recent photo of him, and I scanned the room, purposefully avoiding looking at the heartbreaking sight.
No matter what Rick had done, it was hard not to sympathize with a mother in pain. The mix of guilt and grief in this particular situation was not something I envied or wanted to discuss.
"I can't do this," Toby said suddenly, stopping.
"It's, it's okay. We can just leave," I told him, turning. The sooner I got out of the somber room, the better.
"Toby!" Mrs. Murray's voice was hoarse from tears and I tried to ignore, to keep Toby moving towards the door by sheer force of will alone. I know I said I would be here for him, but meeting Rick's mother was just too much.
Toby, however, had stopped and I was forced to wait for him, awkward as the situation was. "You came!" Rick's mother said, embracing him, seemingly oblivious to his awkward feelings and how close he had been to not coming. "You were always such a good friend. Such a good friend."
I stood back to give them privacy, my arms crossed waiting, when a voice surprised me to my left.
"Mrs. Murray," JT started. Toby smiled this grateful little smile. "I just wanted to say I'm very sorry for what happened."
"You were a friend of Rick's?" Mrs. Murray clung to his words like a safety blanket. I could see her hoping that maybe, just maybe there was more to her son's life than the tragic way he had left it.
JT shot me a glare, as if to say 'you see what you did,' but was diplomatic in his reply. "It was a tragedy. I'm very sorry."
Mrs. Murray approached him, unable to contain her tears and hugged him. "Thank you." She left without looking at any of us again repeating, "Thank you."
I let out a sigh I didn't know I had been holding. I was unsure which was worse, lying to a grieving woman or admitting her worst fears. Both had an element of cruelty about them and I was just grateful the whole situation was over with.
Toby looked at JT as if unsure what to do next. He was there, but by his tone and his words it wasn't clear why.
"It doesn't matter what I thought of Rick. It still shouldn't have happened," JT attempted to explain.
I wanted to scream at him to apologize, add a corny 'I'm here for you line' or do something more than that. But that isn't the male way.
Toby gave a half-hearted smile, before turning to take a seat for the service.
JT looked at me before making a 'ladies-first' motion with his arms.
I shook my head. "You go. Toby needs you. I was just filling in."
"Manny, about earlier . . ." JT started to explain, but I cut him off.
"This isn't really the place, JT." Nor will there ever be a time and a place where I will feel comfortable explaining where we went wrong. How do you tell your best friend that you never really loved him the way he loved you?
He must have read the resolve in my eyes; we had, after all, known each other since we were four, because he just said, "Right," and went to join Toby in one of the front chairs.
I slipped out the back. My good deed for the day had been accomplished; I had reconciled Toby and JT. Now I needed to try and orchestrate my own best friend reconciliation.
I took out my phone and turned it on. I blanched when I saw there were five messages. Going home would undoubtedly be . . . fun. I pressed and held number two on my cell phone. Emma was still the first speed dial number on my phone even after everything. It just didn't seem right to give away her number.
Now if only I knew what I was going to say. 'Hi, Em, let's be friends again?'
It rang only once before I heard Emma's cheery voice telling me to leave a message. I hung up without doing so. She was avoiding me. She had sent me straight to voice mail. Well, she couldn't avoid me if I apologized in person.
With new resolve I turned so I was walking towards Emma's and not home. My phone rang, but I ignored it. It was either my parents or Benito, yelling at me to come home. Add it to the voice mail collection.
I took several deep breaths as I reached Emma's walk. I was reminded briefly of a time I had jogged over to beg for help, but I pushed those thoughts aside. Some things it was easier not to remember.
I rang the doorbell and it was yanked open before my finger even left the buzzer.
"EM- Manny," Spike's voice had started out frantic, but dropped quickly into worried confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see Emma. Is she home?" I asked feeling like a guy come to pick up a girl on her first date and also slightly stupid.
Spike looked up at Mr. Simpson who appeared in the doorframe behind her. "Manny, Emma's not home. She's not answering her phone. You don't happen to know where she might be, do you?" he asked, trying to act nonchalant. I could tell both of them were terrified. And I was afraid my parents would never let me out of the house again. How much worse would it be for Emma's parents who had come so close to losing her?
I looked into Spike's face and once again was struck with how lying to mothers is so much worse than regular lies. Took off in his best friend's car in a squeal of tires. "I have no idea, Ms. Nelson, I'm sorry."
Spike slumped back into Mr. S. only slightly, but it made her look smaller than normal if that was possible. "I'm going to go make some tea," she murmured disappearing into the house.
Mr. Simpson moved to follow her than turned back to me. "Manny, its dark. Do you need a ride home?"
It was much easier to lie to Mr. Simpson. "No, someone's coming to pick me up. Do you mind if I wait on your porch for him?"
Mr. Simpson smiled and I remembered for a while that it wasn't all that long ago that he was a teenager himself. "Not at all, Manny. I'll see you at school."
He disappeared into the house as well, although not before turning on the porch light.
Now what? I asked myself.
I took my trusty phone out of my pocket and once again dialed a set of familiar numbers. This time the phone was picked up immediately.
"Manny," his voice was gruff, but sent tingles up and down my spine. There were definitely a lot of things to be said for having someone who you could be yourself around without guilt.
"Spinner, I need your help. I'm at Emma's. Could you come give me a ride home?" I tried not to inject too much pleading into my voice, but I was scared at how much I suddenly needed him to be here. "I've had the worst day – I just need to see you."
He laughed, a harsh laugh that didn't suit him. "You've had a bad day."
I suddenly felt selfish and small. "I forgot about Jimmy. Did you get a chance to visit him after school?"
"No!" He rejected the idea forcefully and I put the phone away from my ear for a second.
"Well, we can go tomorrow. I'll go with you. Be your security blanket," I smiled into the phone, imagining cozy scenarios in spite of the horrible situation.
"That's not a good idea, either," Spinner's voice cracked and for a moment I thought he was going to cry. "In fact, I don't think you and me is such a good idea right now at all."
"What?" I whispered, trying to find words. I remembered him catching me in the hall earlier with . . . "If this is about Craig, I'm over him. I want to be with you. I want to help you get over this."
I wasn't sure but it sounded like Spinner snorted at this comment. "It's not about Craig. And this? Is not something you can help me get over. I don't want that. I've got to go."
Click.
And just like that, he was gone. I don't think you and me is such a good idea right now at all. I don't want that. The words were stuck on repeat in my head. I don't want you, he might has well have said. It wasn't something I was familiar with. I had ended it with Sully for Craig. I had ended it with Craig when he lied to me about breaking up with Ashley. I had ended it with JT. To be rejected and just when I had thought I had found someone I could have fun with – no strings or drama attached. It hurt. More than I thought it could after such a small amount of time.
I stood up from the Nelson's porch step brushing off my pants. It was cold and if I wanted to get home before curfew I had to move it. As I stood I saw an orange civic, streak in front of the house. Only one person drove an orange car.
Sure enough Emma, stumbled out of the car, quickly. "Emma!" I heard Jay's voice call after her, but he gave up when he saw me standing there and sped down the street. Heather was right in saying his tires squealed.
Emma was on top of me, tears flowing before she noticed I was standing in her walk.
"What are you doing here? Didn't get enough gawking at school?" She demanded.
"Emma, I came to apologize," I said keeping my voice calm.
"Why?" Emma asked, drying her tears with the backs of her palms.
Whatever response I had expected, that one wasn't it. "Excuse me?" I asked, bewildered.
"Why are you apologizing?" She continued matter of factly.
"Emma, when I realized how close we all came to losing you . . . well, the whole Chris thing was a pretty dumb reason to lose your best friend," I explained nervously.
"Oh, I see. Someone tried to shoot me and you feel sorry for me," Emma's voice was still curiously without emotion. "I don't need your pity, Manny. And I don't need your apologies. Especially when they're only motivated by guilt. I don't need you. I have to go." And with that she pushed by me and into her house.
I stood on her walk speechless. I wasn't hurt so much by what she said, but how true it was. How much of my apologizing was what Emma needed to hear right now and how much of it was what I needed to do to assuage my guilt and fear? Maybe she was right. Maybe what she needed was to be left alone.
I walked back home, my head crammed with thoughts about needs, ignoring the cold spreading through my body from both the night air and my dark thoughts. Toby had JT back, he didn't need the pale substitute. Emma didn't want or need my help. Liberty, Ashley, Paige, none of them needed me to be at Degrassi.
So what did I need? I needed to stay far away from Craig and the oh-so-sweet temptation of romance that he offered. I needed Spin, although he, too, went in the 'didn't want or need me' column. I needed to stop unintentionally hurting Emma and others I cared about. I needed to be somewhere where I wasn't known as the school slut for sleeping with one boy once. I needed to go somewhere where each hallway and classroom didn't contain a nasty memory. I needed for my parents to trust me again.
Most of all I needed to trust myself again. To trust my decisions and instincts, to trust that I could be loved as I was.
I turned the key in the lock of my house and wasn't surprised to see my parents waiting for me on the couch, neither expression warm.
"Manuella, we need to talk," Daddy said, his voice stern.
"I know." I walked over to the arm chair and sunk down into it. I knew what I needed to do. "I don't want to go back to Degrassi."