A/N: Here it is, the Jay chapter! Anyway, Jay was being difficult, but after I threatened to just kill him off in the story or to make him so hopelessly OOC to get this chapter done– Jay decided he was going to cooperate (I don't think he wants to be OOC, because I think that scared him worse than me killing him off, just kidding). That's just my little "Jay is a hard character to write" rant for this chapter. Thanks for reading! (and thanks to everyone who helped me see I had to threaten Jay to get him to behave – you know who you are!).

Chapter 15

Life in the Fast Lane

"Do you even know what it's like to want to be someone – anyone else other than yourself for just a moment?" she had said, looking at him with tears in her brown eyes.

Jay remembered Emma's words and her tears. They were words that he couldn't get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. Why did he care that Emma was upset? He didn't care – not one bit.

He felt the familiar anger build up inside him – an anger that demanded release. Why was he angry? Was he angry because Emma Nelson had just treated him like used gum that was stuck on the sole of her shoe? Of course not. He was angry because he was Jay Hogart, and that's how he was supposed to be. Jay Hogart was expected to be angry. He was supposed to be angry. It didn't matter what people like Emma Nelson thought about him – he wasn't angry because of her.

He needed an outlet for his anger. Alcohol wouldn't do it – it would barely even touch the surface of the anger he was feeling right now. So he did the only thing that ever seemed to work when he was this angry – he headed for the highway.

Speed – he loved it. Windows down, speeding down the highway – that was the only time he even remotely felt like he was free. He sometimes thought that if he drove fast enough – that if he hit the gas pedal hard enough – he could outrun his thoughts and his memories.

He hit the gas pedal harder, as he passed a tractor trailer. He loved weaving in and out traffic, waiting for that straight stretch – that opening in the traffic where he could really let her loose. Where he could make his civic go as fast as it could, with it's souped up engine that Sean had helped him with.

Sean… he hadn't thought of Sean in a while, but he did now, and didn't question why just the thought of Sean caused his foot to press down harder on the gas pedal. Sean was his best friend – the only person who even half-way understood him. And now Sean was gone. He had gone crying back to mommy and daddy, all because Rick was a psycho.

Just thinking Rick's name caused Jay's foot to press the gas pedal to the floor. Faster and faster he went – maybe if he went fast enough, he could forget about Rick. Maybe he could forget what had happened. Maybe he could forget that it was… it wasn't his fault. He felt the speed of the car climbing, but he made no move to slow the car down. Why should he bother? He didn't care if he died. Nobody would care if he died.

He saw the flashing lights in his rear view mirror. "Ah… shit!" Jay exclaimed. He couldn't afford to get caught. He was already walking a tightrope with his grandparents after his expulsion. He remembered the day he was expelled, as he starting swerving among the lanes of traffic, trying to lose the police car that was tailing him.

Jay remembered that he had sat in the chair, secretly wishing he was anywhere else but where he was, waiting for Ms. Hot Sauce to give her final decree. He gave her his best "I don't care" smirk, enjoying the flash of anger in her eyes as she stared him down. He remembered thinking of various sorts of torture to punish Spinner for ratting him out. He remembered his feeling of relief to find out that Spinner hadn't ratted Alex out also. He remembered the look on his grandma's face, as she sat there beside him, listening to Ms. Hazilakos' punishment.

"But… what about suspending him?" Grandma had asked, with a worried look on her face. "If you expel him, he won't be able to graduate – we can't afford to send him to a private school."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Michaels, but we have a 'zero tolerance' policy here. Your son was indirectly responsible for one student's death. Another boy was paralyzed, and Jay's friend Sean was shot in the arm when trying to stop the shooter from killing another student. That paint and feathers stunt that Jason and Gavin pulled – that was over the line. I have to expel Jason." Ms. Hazilkos had said.

"But please… he needs to go to school." Grandma had protested.

"I'm sorry." Ms. Hazilakos said, with a sympathetic look on her face as she looked at his grandmother, sitting there, crying.

He had walked out of the school that day, with the security guard escorting him out. He had went home, to face his grandparents.

"Why did you do that, Jay?" his grandma had asked, with tears running down her cheeks.

"Because he's just like his junkie dad. He's gonna end up in prison, just like his father." His grandfather had said, without looking at him. "Bad blood, Anna – you can't get around it. He's gonna be just like his father."

Jay had said nothing, just went up to his room, with the words "just like his father" burned into his memory. That's what he always heard – that's what they always said to him. He had heard it often enough – every note home from a teacher, every suspension, every time the police had given him a warning - -he had heard it so many times. He had heard it so often, that he was actually starting to believe it was true. He was going to be like his dad.

He looked in his rearview mirror again, and saw the flashing lights were still behind him. He pressed down harder on the gas pedal, and swerved around a mini-van that was in front of him.

Why didn't he just pull over? Because he was just like his father. He was destined for prison, just like his dad. Why fight the inevitable?

Jay looked over at the car he was passing, and saw a girl sitting in the back seat, with long blonde hair. He kept passing the car, but then slowed down, as he pulled his car over to the side of the road. He didn't want to ask himself why he had done that. He really didn't know why he had pulled over. All he knew was that he had.

He sat there, and waited for the officer to come to the side of his car. The man looked at him like he knew his type, and didn't like him one bit.

"Bad blood, Ana, you can't get around it. He's gonna be just like his father." Jay remembered his grandfather say, again and again, as he sat in the car, facing the same exact look from a stranger.

"Do you even know what it's like to want to be someone – anyone else other than yourself for just a moment?" Jay thought about Emma's words, as he sat there, waiting.

"Every goddamn day." Jay Hogart mumbled in response to those remembered words, as he handed his license to the waiting police officer. "Every goddamn day."