Pool Shark Chapter 1, a degrassi fanfic

Chapter One

Lyin' in my plastic bed,
Thinkin' how things weren't so cool to me.
My baby likes to shoot pool,
I like lyin' naked in my bedroom.
Tyin' on the dinosaur tonight,
It used to be so cool too.

Now I've got the needle,
And I can shake,
But I can't breath.
I take it away, but I want more and more.
One day I'm gonna lose the war.

It started out as a tiny little line, a half an inch in length. But no, this was not enough for me. It had to be larger like everything else in my life: my mom, my dad…Sean. And it had to be just as precious and hurt just as much.

After what seemed like a lifetime, crimson finally appeared from beneath the surface of my colorless skin. I sighed in relief as a long bubble of blood slowly chased the hardware razor I was sliding across the pale underside of my left arm. The line was now two inches long, satisfying my desire. Sighing, with a steady hand, I carefully cut two more incisions to connect it to. The end result was a dripping, zigzag wound that closely resembled an uncanny capital 'N'. How beautiful.

I glanced at my watch halfheartedly as I padded out of the bathroom in my Happy Bunny slippers and into the kitchen in the house Sean and I used to share. 11:30 AM and I was still wearing my pajamas. Great job, Nash. It's Saturday afternoon and you're still sitting in this dump. What a life. Thank God I was going to Jay's later to watch movies.

With little effort, I hit the switch on my ancient, sorry excuse for a coffee maker and began to pour cereal into the biggest cereal bowl I could find. Plink! A fat mealworm landed at the bottom of my bowl, writhing amongst the colorful marshmallows, clearly stirred by the fall. I tilted my head back and sighed in frustration. The house seemed to be teeming with insects for those past few weeks: in the bathroom, under the sofa and now in my food. That was just what I needed on a day like this. Frustrated, I gingerly scanned through the number list tacked onto the kitchen's wood paneled wall, searching for Andrew "The Insect Annihilator" Keene's phone number. I thought the exterminator had come by months ago. Sean—

"Ahh! Kill it, Sean! Kill it!"

Sean lazily poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

He began to giggle when he saw me standing on the ottoman in the living room. I was clutching onto the ceiling fan for dear life, a humongous cockroach directly below me on the carpet. I suppose I was making a spectacle of myself. The giggles graduated to spastic laughter; very un-Sean-like.

I, on the other hand, was infuriated. My only concern was the creep crawly on the floor and whether or not he was going to stomp on it. "It's not funny!"

"If…you…could…see…yourself!" he half-panted, half-laughed, red in the face.

And that's when I started laughing too.

That was right. Sean was supposed to call the Mr. Keene the day he left for Wasaga and I had completely forgotten about it amongst all of the frustration. Great.

I stared down at my injured arm. The red mess had trailed itself down towards my hand and I was still bleeding a great deal. I quickly wet an old dishcloth and pressed it to the cut, only stopping a moment to look at the deep scar tissue surrounding it. Three of them resembled letters that spelled out a rather jagged SEA, the newest cut completing it.

Sean's name was carved into my left wrist.

RRRRRING!

I opened my eyes, startled by the noise. Still groggy from my short nap on the couch, I forced myself to sit upright and look down at the phone in its charger. The name on the caller ID made my stomach turn apprehensively. Nevertheless, I pressed it against my hot cheek and offered her a miserable hello.

"Ellie? Hi, baby, it's Mom," the voice on the other end chirped in a briskly cheerful voice. God, Mom, you can kill the superficial act, because it's not working.

"Hey. What's going on?" I asked innocently.

That's when my mother returned from Planet Pretend-Everything-is-Okay. "Nothing's 'going on', Eleanor. What, I can't call my only daughter to see how she's doing?" she asked in a rather boisterous way. There was the Grace Nash I knew.

Irritated, I twirled one of my long auburn braids around my pointer finger and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just surprised you called; I thought you were at work."

"Work? Work shmerk! That's why I called, to tell you I quit."

I was taken aback. "You did what?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but with all of these group therapy sessions and remodeling the house, I have no time."

That wasn't the point. "How are you gonna live, Mom? You need to pay for groceries and gas for the car and–" And my rent.

"Do you think we're completely broke? You know your father has us taken care of, sweetheart. We are going to be fine," she said.

"Mom, what do you mean by 'we'?"

And then she brought out the big guns, slowly enunciating every word as if she were lecturing a small child: "Ellie, I've been doing very well. I've been sober for months. I haven't missed any AA meetings. There's not even a single wine cooler in this house. You've been making wonderful progress on your own, but I think it's about time that you came home, honey. I miss you."

I almost dropped the phone. "Come home? I-I don't think I can do that, Mom. Not yet."

"Why not?" She was cross.

"I'm not just not ready to. I'm not ready for–" I couldn't get the words out. "Sean just left, Mom, and things haven't been going too great. I need more time. We both do."

I could hear her sighing on the other line. I imagined her sitting at the wooden coffee table, a bottle of opened vodka in front of her. Still I could not see her as anything but a drunk. She suggested that we should make a deal.

"What do you mean?"

"If you move back in," she said. "I'll buy you that guitar you want. That Gibson–"

My greedy inner-child wanted to scream, "A Gibson Les Paul Supreme! Okay, okay, I'll come home!" But big girl Ellie wasn't buying it.

"So now you're…bribing me, Mom? You really think getting me a guitar can just–just make everything okay?" I asked. Tears had begun to slide down my face.

Despite my pain, my mother maintained her pseudo-happy state. "No. Just consider it a welcome home present."

I sighed, debating whether or not I should trust her. I knew I couldn't. I knew if I came home, nothing would change. Dad would still be on his peacekeeping mission, Sean would still be down in Wasaga and Mom would be nursing a Smirnoff by Sunday. Change didn't know Ellie Nash.

"You took your time," I said firmly, "and now I need mine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get ready. Some friends are expecting me over later."

"Eleanor, you are not going to avoid this. You can't live in that shithole forever, you know. You need me. I am your mother for god's sake!"

"I love you, Mom, but you can't help me right now," I said flatly before placing the phone back in the charger.

"If you don't give me some of those cookies, Jay, I will kill you," Alex said from her seat on the pool table in Jay's smoke filled basement. They had both shared a dime bag of pot earlier and she had what she called "the major munchies".

I lounged contently in front of the crappy TV set, a bowl of freshly buttered popcorn sitting between my crossed legs. Child's Play's theme song boomed through the stolen Bose speakers Jay had hooked up to the shitty old Sony and I couldn't help but giggle when I saw the face of the redheaded killer doll. I, Ellie Nash, a girl who appreciated fine arts, was watching a cheesy movie about a possessed children's toy.

Smirking, Jay hid the package of Doublestuf Oreos behind his back, a vicious Alex swatting him playfully and laughing hysterically at the same time. I heard the bag of cookies drop to the ground. Jay gently swung his girlfriend on top of the pool table. A few stray billiard balls began rolling away as the two kissed passionately.

I looked up from my spot on the stained overstuffed loveseat and huffed. Yes, that's right, get all worked up on what was supposed to be our movie night.

"Uh, Jay, if you haven't noticed, you have company." Alex told him in a singsong voice, still lying with him on the green table. Jay pretended he didn't hear and continued to kiss Alex up and down her neck.

"I'm fine," I hissed. Annoyed, I changed the channel to an old episode of Full House.

Alex pushed Jay away and yanked the popcorn bowl away from my, shoving some of the popped kernels into her mouth. "Talk to me, kid," she said mid-crunch.

"It's nothing," I said. "Really."

Jay threw a throw pillow in my face. "Bullshit, Nash. No one goes 'Oh, it's nothing really' unless it's something. So spill it. You miss Cameron, eh?"

I sighed. "It's not just that."

"What is it then?" Alex asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Whatever, I get it. I've gotta piss." Jay trudged up the creaking wooden stairs to the bathroom.

Alex rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's typical mannerisms. "He went through a lot of shit, Ellie. He saw someone die. Hell, he might even be responsible for it. I mean, that's more traumatizing than when I first walked into Jay's room and found his centerfold collection hanging on the ceiling."

"I know. But it's not just all Sean, you know. My mom called me this afternoon." I admitted.

"Oh boy," Alex said, feigning joy.

"Yeah. She says she's been sober a long time and wants me to move back in. Actually, she more or less tried to buy me off; she offered to get me a Les Paul if I came back."

Alex shook her head and said sadly, "Never trust an alcoholic, Nash. My real dad was one for years until he beat the shit out of my mom and got locked up for it. Hasn't been the same since. I haven't talked to the bastard since I was nine."

Not knowing what else to do, I pulled Alex into an embrace and laughed when I heard her pretend to gag.

"You tell anyone I just did that, I'll cut you into deli slices, Nash!" Alex kidded. She gave me a playful punch on the shoulder to emphasize her point. When I hit her back with my left fist, my fishnet sleeve fell down, revealing my scarred wrist.

Alex seemed concerned in some weird way. "W-what did you do, Ellie?"

No response.

"Did you do this to yourself?" Alex asked in a whisper, pulling down the rest of my sleeve. Alex traced with her fingertips the pink and white scar tissue that decorated my arm and wrist. I winced in pain as she touched the newest incision. "Is this supposed to say 'SEAN'?"

I nodded, tears falling down my cheeks as she looked down at my exposed arm. The secret was out.

"This is really bad," she said calmly, pointing at the 'N' cut. "Look how deep they are. I think this one is infected, Ellie. It's all red and swollen."

Still embarrassed and shocked, I continued to cry and put my sleeve back in place. Why did Alex, of all people, have to find out that I relapsed, let alone know I did this to myself to begin with? I felt as if her whole world was spiraling, crushing me beneath the weight of my problems. And now Alex knew.

"When I said I'd cut you into deli slices, I would have never though you'd beat me to it." When she saw her little attempt to cheer me up hadn't worked she said, "I'm sorry, that was a fucked up thing to say."

"I'm not crazy, Alex," I dried my eyes on my shirt. "Things have just been really hard lately with my dad being away, my mom being in rehab and…well, Sean. I'm falling apart—"

"So you though you'd help it along by butchering your arms?"

"It's not like that!" I fell back on Jay's moldy couch and pressed the throw pillow against my face in frustration.

Alex sighed, lifted up a corner of the pillow and looked down at me. "You know you don't have to put up with the bullshit in your life. Do something about it. Write Sean a letter, get a job, and tell your mom she's a bitch. I don't know, do whatever it takes but don't do this shit."

"Don't do what shit?" Jay's voice and the heavy sound of footsteps on the stairs silenced Alex. He carried a six-pack and a giant bag of Lays.

"None of your damn business." Alex smirked.

I tossed the pillow aside and tried to smile, play it up so my friends wouldn't have a crummy time. Maybe Alex was right. I could make amends with the people who hurt me and get on with my life.

This is independence, right, El? Then you've got to do just that.

Jay put down the beers and stared at the TV screen for a long time. He seemed entranced by Full House, especially when one of the characters cracked a joke at Jesse's obsession with his hair. Jay finally asked, "What the hell is this?"

"We weren't watching TV," I said with a grin. "We were talking about my oh-so-important problems, remember?"

"Ha-ha. You're a comedian," Jay said. He opened one of the beers and took a long gulp.

"Oh, Jay, sweetheart?"

"What, babe?"

Alex told him dully, "If you don't give me some of those chips, I will kill you."

Next chapter: Alex brings Ellie a present; Ellie's mom tries to further convince her to come home. I accept constructive criticism very well, but I don't accept flat-out impoliteness. Thanks for reading!