Authors Note: I know that on the show, Ellie and Sean are already together, but I haven't seen the show lately so I don't know the details. So I'm going to do this the way I would if I were the director of Degrassi. ) As always, I don't own the show, the characters, the places...blah blah blah. Another thing I forgot to mention in the first chapter is that this does take place around whisper to a scream. Maybe a week or two later, give or take a few days. And lets see...I don't know the details of Ellie's dad leaving, I don't think they ever specified. If they did, please let me know, that information will be useful later. With that said, here's the next chapter.
Chapter 2:
Nobody's Home
I couldn't sleep that night. I hadn't even changed out of my clothes. I just lay there, on my bed, running the events of the evening through my mind. What had given Sean the right to just jump in like that? Did he think I couldn't have handled Jay? I reminded myself that I probably couldn't have handled him, and Sean was just doing what he thought was...well, best. I pushed up the sleeve of my shirt and held my arm up in the light streaming in my window. The cuts were a reminder of my mom, of my dad, of this hell that I'm living in. I knew people had it worse. But I couldn't think about those people right now. I heard Mom get up and stumble to the kitchen, probably getting a bottle of beer or vodka. That was the last straw.
I sat up and turned my bedside lamp on and opened the drawer to my nightstand. I pulled out a razor that was hidden underneath my journal. I brought the razor to my skin, ready to press into it, to tear my arm to shreds. At that very moment, the telephone next to me rang. I let it ring once, twice, three times...four. I answered it finally, wondering who would be calling at two in the morning.
"Hello?" I said, my voice unsteady. I needed to cut so badly...if I could just do it without interruption I would be okay.
"Ellie, did I wake you? This is Sean," the voice on the other end said.
"No, its okay. I was awake."
"You left your jacket at the dot," he said.
"So you call me at two in the morning to tell me?" I asked, aggravated that he had interrupted my release...my only way to let go of pain, for that.
"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I was going to wait until tomorrow but—"
"Its okay, don't worry about it. Sorry for snapping at you, I just...have a lot on my mind right now. When do you want me to pick it up?" I asked, resting my elbow on my knee and my forehead on the palm of my hand.
"You could come pick it up right now if you want to."
"Wont your parents mind?"
There was silence. "I live alone," he said after a moment or two.
"Oh." I heard heavy footsteps as my moms' door slammed shut. Eager to get off the phone, afraid Sean would here my mother, I said, "Yeah, I could pick it up now."
"Okay," he gave me directions to his place and I hung up the phone.
"Great, Ell, what are you going to do now?" I muttered to myself. "Obviously I'll be going to Sean's."
I tiptoed down the stares and out the door. The street was dark, scary even. But I walked to Sean's as quickly as I could. I knocked on the door and Sean answered it a few seconds later.
"Hey," I said. "My jacket?"
"Yeah, its right here. Come on in for a minute."
"I should get home before Mom notices I'm gone," I said, lingering in the doorway.
"Five minutes? I really need someone to talk to. Nights are hard."
Surprised by the sudden show of his vulnerable side, I stepped in and shut the door behind me. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch tonight."
"Its okay."
"No its not." I sat down on the couch next to him.
He nodded. "So, what's going on? Why do you cut?"
"Is that was this is about?" I asked, standing up. "We went over this, I don't cut myself. That's just demented."
"No it isn't." He reached out and grabbed my hand firmly. He pushed up my sleeve. "I told you."
I jerked it away from him. "Its not what you think. I'm not one of those...people who do it because they have nothing better to do."
"I know." He pulled me down next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay."
"Is that why you asked me over here?"
"I was concerned."
"You were nosey," I snapped.
"No, I was concerned," he said, his tone matching mine.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "You look so sad all the time, and you shouldn't. You're really pretty when you smile."
"You don't always look happy either. Always having your headphones on, even if you're not listening to music. Shutting out the world."
"Maybe I have a reason."
"Maybe I do, too."
"My parents are alcoholics," he blurted out. "That led to...a lot of tension, when I was younger. I fell in with the wrong crowd, made some mistakes and got into a fight one night. I had to move here to get out of doing time."
"My moms an alcoholic," I said quietly. "It started when my dad left."
"That's rough." He was silent for a minute. "How does your mom act when she's drunk?" He asked after a moment.
"She sleeps all the time. Doesn't eat, stuff like that."
"Mine fought constantly, always trying to beat each other up. It's kind of pathetic. They didn't really have a reason to drink, your mom does."
"That doesn't make it right," I told him.
"I know, but that makes it understandable."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Doesn't make it easier to cope with, though."
I could feel his eyes on me, as if he could see right through me, as if he knew me. It made me furious. "Do you think you know me or something?"
"What? Of course not...but I'd—"
"Exactly. You don't know me. No one at this freaking school knows me but they still pass judgments as if they do! Do you think I don't hear what they say about me? Vampire. Goth. Whore. Queer lover. Do you think that's easy?" I felt hot tears run down my cheeks, I tried to stop them but I couldn't.
"It isn't easy, Ellie. I know all about that. Do you think I don't hear what they say about me? Troublemaker. Delinquent. Criminal. That's not any easier than being called a vampire or a goth, now is it?"
"No, I guess it isn't."
"Stop thinking that I'm trying to judge you or make fun of you. I just want to know you."
"Why?" I asked, stepping away from him.
"Because, you're not what you appear to be. That's obvious. I think...we'd have a lot in common."
"You don't want to know me. Trust me. I don't even want to know me."
"Let me be the judge of that."
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," I told him.
"I know," he looked me in the eyes as he twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "That's what makes it so interesting."