Not A Pretty Girl:Alchemy Dream

Important!

I kinda changed the story to suit myself mainly, so I'm reposting this. It's better than before in my opinion. And more readable. If you're wondering why, read the new intro in Chapter One. Thanks!

Summary: Spike has betrayed everything Emma knows and loves to save her from trouble at Degrassi. Now a Grade 11 All Girls' School-bound girl, every inch of stable ground under Emma's feet is crumbling. What are her Degrassi friends thinking?

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At approximately 6:15 a.m., Emma came to the conclusion that her life was officially over. Her eyes were heavy and red, from sleeplessness and desperation. It occurred to her around 4:30 a.m. to climb through the hatch window in her basement bedroom, but her will to get up out of bed was not present.

Her mom and Snake had not spoken to her since she dropped the horrendous bomb of her bundle of joy at dinner last night. Her greatest fear was what awaited her on the other side of her bedroom door. How would they react? How did they react?

She knew that Snake would be extremely angry, as he usually was at her. Her and Snake had never really been on perfectly cool terms, and she never quite figured out why. He was a perfect father to Jack, but somehow his fathering talents were lost on her.

Her mom she wasn't quite sure about. Her mom was cool...but not that cool. How should a mom react to her daughter's pregnancy at 16? Negatively of course. She felt ashamed of herself, of the thing growing in her body and how it got there. It was a gross adult thing she never really discussed. As far as Emma was concerned, pregnancy was just something that happened to people who wanted their lives to end, or weren't careful enough.

Right now, she felt like both.

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She heard footsteps outside her door, and stopped breathing.

"Emma." The voice was quiet.

Just pretend to be dead.

"Emma, it's 6:30, come on. We've got to get going. I've got to get to the salon."

"I thought you said it was in walking distance, Mom."

Great. Way to be dead, Em.

"It is, Em. But I've got to turn in these forms and pay for your uniform. I don't have cash, I've gotta write a check."

"Uniform!"

"Yeah, Em. It's standard. Come on." The footsteps faded down the hall. She heard Snake come from the bedroom, walk to the kitchen, pick up his keys, mutter a few words to Spike, and then shut the door. Relieved, she slid out of bed, and put on an orange corduroy jacket over her clothes she wore yesterday that she slept in. She slid on her flip-flops, gave herself the once over in the mirror, and walked out the door, picking up her bag on the way.

Emma looked out the kitchen window at Snake backing out. She felt insanely depressed and jealous. He was going to Degrassi Community School, the place she'd give anything to go. The place that would hold her best friend, Manny Santos, dressed to kill, no doubt, for the first day. James Tiberius Yorke, her oldest friend, would be lounging on the steps, telling joke after joke, idly fidgeting with his skateboard, reveling in the eager stares from underclassman girls admiring his summer tan and shaggy hair. Toby Issacs, finally admitted in the front doors, one step closer to the new iMacs, dressed in a pressed polo shirt, finally embracing some fashionable style to counter his geeky persona. Sean Ca...no, wait. Sean hadn't returned for this term after the shooting. But still, his existence somewhere in Canada, and the fact that he was still a fresh memory gave steam to her imaginary pity party.

You know who you really want to see, Em.

She saw him in her mind, leaning cool back into the plush tan leather seats of his red Honda Civic, with 16 speakers, the loud music of his favourite band, Sparta, blaring into the atmosphere.

You want him to know.

It shook her bones, zooming in closer into the car in the parking lot, to see his short chestnut coloured hair, the 2 day old stubble on his face, and then...

No, please. Please.

...then, the smoke that crawled from his lips, the ruddy cheeks, the clear eyes that shifted in her direction.

Jay Hogart.

A tear formed in her eye.

On the table, sat the test, unmoved from the night before, looking very curious on the crochet table cloth. She tore her eyes away and followed her mother out the door.

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"Here, Emma, hold these. We need to give these to the lady at the desk when we get there." Emma took the stack of papers, and sifted through them. Proof of address, Degrassi transcript, just in case Hatzilakos forgot to fax it. It all seemed so easy, so effortless. End all joys of her Junior year with a swift thoughtless signature on the dotted line.

"Mom, you realize how unfair this is. I don't see what going to an all girl's school will do for me anyways. Last year was harmless. I'm fine now. I cant DO this!"

"Maybe, but Volta Redonda is the best school in the entire Toronto area, with a great reputation. It boasts a ton of kinda avant garde classes."

"Mom..."

"You could even take Portugese, Em! They have an Environmental Club just like DCS, and it's pretty well known. It'll be perfect."

"Mom, in case you were brain dead during dinner last night, I'm pregnant."

"I don't want you to even mention that right now." Spike kept her eyes on the road, running a nervous hand through her shoulder length brown hair.

Well, that's that.

Emma was rather surprised that the homely matron behind the counter in the office of VRGAcademy was exactly what she had expected. She flipped through a pile of stapled forms, instructing them both to sign where she x-ed, photocopied the documents the Nelsons' had brought from home, stamped them, looked over her large wire rimmed glasses, double checking each paper, until finally she was satisfied and handed Emma a 3 piece uniform, all in size smalls. The uniform was a black, cream and pale blue-grey plaid knee length tartan, pleated in all it's school girl glory, a white buttondown long sleeved shirt with the embroidered school logo, a shield with 'VRGA' in script in black, and black cardigan with the school shield. Emma sighed noticeably, and went into the washroom to change.

The hallways were marble floored and wood paneled, large doors and trophy cases lining the walls. Emma felt very small, and very alone. It still had not seeped into her that this was her new daily reality. She felt pangs in her arms and sides, as her brain tried to match the school's features to Degrassi's, finding no similarities, and giving up. She looked to her left and found the washroom, took a breath, and pushed the door open. She had a feeling she'd be spending a lot of time in here this term.

But to her dismay, she did not see emptiness, but three girls, sitting up against the wall smoking cigarettes, their legs wide open in a rather unladylike stance. They did not look too happy to see her either, but they said nothing, dismissing her. Emma quickly ducked into a stall, and changed into her new costume. Instead of the new cardigan, she pulled on her orange corduroy jacket again, and slid on her pink flip flops. Stepping out, she looked into the full length mirror.

What a dork.
Glancing at the other girls, she noticed they wore long white socks and black loafers. She looked at her feet in the mirror, noticing the chipping green nail polish on her wiggling toes, and how awfully the flip flops clashed with the tartan. A burst of laughter came from the girl on the left, confirming her fears. She was now the dorky new girl.

"Nice ensemble, babe. You the proud recipient of a 'fresh start' at VR too?" The other girls laughed, the one on the left taking a drag from the cigarette.

"Are you new here?" the girl to the right said, getting up to her feet, clicking her shiny black heel.

"Yes, unfortunately I am." Emma continued to avoid their gaze, and pulled her long blonde hair back in a mock ponytail.

"Well, you better learn to dress right. They put a zero-tolerance uniform policy in the handbook last year." Emma sighed, and picked up her bag. "My name's Lindsey." Suddenly, there was a perfectly manicured tan hand in front of Emma. She turned to look at what it was attached to. Lindsey was around 5'9, taller than she was! She had dark skin, thickly lined green eyes, and black hair. She had an exotic beauty emphasized by the combination of spicy perfume and cigarette smoke. "Who are you?"

"I'm Emma."

"Where did you come from?"

"As of yesterday, I went to Degrassi Community School."

"Mmm, a public school girl." said the girl from the center. "Just stick with us and you'll get the hang of it." She had short, boy cut brown hair, and a very slender frame. "I'm Irene."

"Hey," Emma said, suddenly surrounded by these model images of beauty and rebellion. They were the ones that knew how to do it right. They reminded her of Alex.

"We aren't friends." The first girl with the cigarette stuck her firm hand out, charm bracelets jangling around her wrist. "Rowan."

"Ladies, 6:57." Irene took one last look in the mirror, touching a smudge of lipstick.

The girls followed Lindsey out into the now crowded hall. She took Emma's hand with her cold smooth one.

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Upon stepping out into the traffic, Emma noticed the electric estrogen that flowed through the hall. Never before had she experienced so many girls in one place before. Emma passed the office, watching her mother fill out forms. It pained her to think that her mom was so different from all the other moms here. These moms were college graduates, they married at 24, brought their sons and daughters into a world with a mom AND a dad. These moms were lawyers, shop owners, nurses, teachers. These moms had B.A.s in Christian science, and law, M.F.A.s in history and language, and P.h.D.s in medicine. She looked at her mom, with the wrinkled brow, the mocha hair with the obvious red highlights, in her cropped jeans and hooded sweatshirt, her mom that worked 2 jobs, one at a salon and the other as a receptionist at the T.I.E.S. (Toronto Institute of Environmental Science). She suddenly felt very alone and inadequate.

As Emma sat in homeroom, fidgeting her toes, worrying that she wouldn't fit in, 3 blocks away, 16 speakers lustily massaged an anxious young man's ears, 4 minutes before the bell.

As Emma flawlessly concocted a dialog without a partner in French 11, the young man made eye contact with his ex-girlfriend Alex in the hallway, while finding excuses to pass Emma's old locker.

As Emma grimaced at the board in Algebra II, which spelled out that her evening was about to be full of fun-filled polynomial exercises, the young man discussed the results of his summer school courses with Hatzilakos, in secret hopes that this would not be his last glance at Degrassi.

As Emma negotiated in the main office the obvious face that she had already taken Physical Education and its replacement with a Writer's Craft class, the young man caught sight of Mr. Simpson in the hallway by the Media Immersion room and ducked around the corner, an obscure fear gripping his heart.

As Emma daydreamed of her future as a lawyer in Law I, the young man wondered how his best friend was in Wasaga, and daydreamed of just leaving Armstrong's class to pick him and Emma up, and driving as far away as a tank of gas would take them.

As Emma became enraptured with the purity of Asian mythology in Spiritual Studies, the young man sat in his car at the far end of the parking lot feeling enlightened in the grips of the joint he smoked, the first one in months.

As Emma sat in the bathroom stall, in tears over her overwhelming confusion over Chemistry II, the young man glared vehemently at the year 11 shaggy haired guy he knew hung around with Emma as he, the geek and the slut congregated by his locker. Idiots.

As Emma laid back in her chair, waiting for the last bell in Canadian Lit, the young man wrote down an urgent napkin poem for his eyes only.

And as Emma climbed the hill, barefoot to her house, she felt empty and lost, knowing if not for the auto pilot her feet were on, who knows where she would end up.

And as the exact memory of freckles and eye color faded, Emma vowed to forget him.

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Let me know what you think! And thanks for your patience! XOXO