I actually got an idea for the plot of this story! It's kinda weird, and I'm slightly nervous, but I'm also happy, are you happy for me? Well, at least I think it's really exciting, because I was terrified that inspiration would never strike me and this fic would just drone without any real purpose. Who knows though, that still could be the case...but let's hope not. I've got some plans that I hope you will like, which will build up throughout the chapters. I hope this turns out how I want it to!
Disclaimer: The characters and the title and Degrassi and all that stuff isn't mine.
Set in the summer before Ellie's senior year.
Here we go folks, read and review!
It took every ounce of restraint I had in me not to leap out of my chair and sprint all the way to the pool after group finished up this evening. Oh, how I longed to push through my fellow teenage sicko's and scramble through the door, not stopping until I had reached my glorious destination for a bit of breaking and entering. I hadn't gone in almost two weeks, hadn't been back since...
Somehow (and let me assure you it wasn't at all easy) I managed to control myself.
The seat I had chosen today had been by a window (not an accident on my part) and I had spent most of the session with my gaze riveted on the outdoors for the onset of nightfall, fingers drumming out anxious rhythms against my thighs as I waited for the decree of conclusion to be made. I can't discount how much group has helped me get through my "stuff" but today, all I wanted was for everyone to quit yammering on about their own problems and let us get the hell out of there. At the moment I coudln't care less that Cora's father never once made the time to attend her soccer games when she was in grade two, and now she can't allow herself to be emotionally available to men. Hmmm, yeah, so sad. Getting kinda dusky out there...
When at last I heard those marvelous words of dismissal, I painted on a tight smile and squeezed my way to the front of the procession as it headed out into the parking lot. Hands were placed gently on my shoulders, but I slid away from the friendly touch. Voices attempted to call me back, but determined feet kept me straight on my path as I sang out cheerful excuses over my shoulder. "Sorry, can't stay and chat!" "Gotta go, mom needs me home to help out with dinner!" "Maybe next week! See you soon!" Grin, shrug, wave. Repeat as often as necessary while walking away. Whatever you do, don't stop walking.
Striding forward with a purpose, I increased the distance between the familiar crowd and me as quickly as I calculated to be possible without looking suspicious. When I came to the fork in my path that would lead me either to where I was supposed to be or where I wanted to be, I quickly detoured into the neighborhood I had no business being in. Soon the maze of similarly named street signs swallowed me up, and my pace quickened. My pulse quickened with it.
I kept on track by using the houses (oh lets not be coy, mansions really) I had grown accustomed to as markers, checking each one off mentally once I passed. As they all in turn fell behind me, the nervous anticipation grew ever stronger in the pit of my stomach.
The monstrous Mediterranean-style villa. Getting closer.
The behemoth brick abode. Not much further.
The colossal colonial. Just one more...so close... almost there...
And then I was running.
Madly I dashed across the emerald green grass, zigzagging around the impeccable hedges leading towards the back, and flinging open the heavy gate to let myself in. Screw stealth, it was late and half the neighborhood was away in the Caribbean, so I threw caution into the wind. Bursting over the threshold, I hopped on each foot clumsily in turn while I pulled off my shoes and socks and threw them haphazardly to the side. Jeans were kicked behind me in a hurry as I advanced towards the water, still moving forward while I shimmied the denim down around my hips. Once I neared the edge, my hands gripped the edge of my tee-shirt, swiftly pulling it over my head and leaving my arms extended after the flinging the garment away to form a hasty dive as I plunged myself greedily into the depths.
The water was cold, the little warmth it absorbed from the summer sun long since vanished now that the rays were gone. The change was a welcome one though, the nighttime air clinging to me heavily during my spring with an almost palatable humidity, and the sudden contrast of the chilly depths raced through my body with a deliciously sharp tingle. I know some people prefer to adjust gradually to the water, starting off standing on the shallow-end steps and slowly working their way in deeper until they are used to the feel of the water around them. Not me though. I've always plunged headfirst into the depths, even back when I was doing my plunging in a ruffled little swuimsuit.
If only I had enough confidence to take on life in the same way I do the water.
I skimmed across the bottom of the pool skillfully while my body grew accustomed to the change in temperature and drank up the moisture it had so mournfully been deprived of. Determined not to come up for breath until I had reached the opposite end, it was with an audible gasp that I broke the surface in the shallows, chest heaving as oxygen rushed into my deflated lungs, filling them with the life-sustaining force I had so willingly denied them. And I would continue to deny them, over and over, until I was so exhausted I could barely make my way back home, but at that moment the prospect of leaving seemed hours away. Kneeling in the water, I closed my eyes. I took each breath deeply, trying to savor the moment...and then almost instantly my silent reverie evaporated.
I felt it, that unmistakable, chilling feeling on the back of your neck that someone is watching you. The water was cold, but my blood suddenly ran colder.
Slowly I turned. My heartbeat began to race wildly with the terrible fear of what I might find upon completing my rotation, the sickening sense of deja vou building in me as my movement stilled. I had kept my eyes low, but now as I raised them slowly, I found myself locked into stare with...
Craig?
Manning?
What the hell?
Instantaneously, my whole attitude changed. With an uninhibited feeling of rage, I drew myself up to full height, eyes smoldering and holding his gaze while defiantly placing my hands on my hips.
My bare, wet, practically naked hips, I suddenly remembered upon making contact with the region.
Of course, my first instinct was to collapse down onto my knees and submerse my underwear-clad body into the dark water, attempting with a pathetic futility to cover the expanse of exposed skin with quivering arms while blushing madly under the moonlight. But of course, being Ellie Fucking Nash, I couldn't.
So instead, I jutted out my chin as though I always encountered my long-gone best friend's on-again, off-again boyfriend in my sopping wet unmentionables. Nope, nothing out of the ordinary for me her, no siree. I narrowed my eyes and straightened my spine, challenging him wordlessly to poke fun at the situation. 'Come on, you fucking charmer,' I tried to convey telepathically, 'just you come on and try me.' Opening my mouth in disgust, I spat out icily,
"What the HELL are you doing here Manning?"
SOOO, what do you think now?
