Geez, summer school has been kicking my ass! Well, has been and is proceeding to so at the moment. I should be reading right now, and I should be studying, but most of all I guessI should be sleepingsince it's past three in the morning and I have to go to work and to school tomorrow...which I guess is really today. Arg! Anyways, I have been itching to get this epilogue out of my head and down into words for forever now, so if its rushed please forgive me, but this whole thing was kind of a now or never thing. Or maybe not never...more of a now or in September thing. Yeah, I'm thinking I should shut up with the forward and get on with the story.

Disclaimer: it's not mine

Here we go, my first ever epilogue!


"Oh God Nash, I'm really going to have to keep my eye on you, aren't I?"

He said it teasingly, and nestled his chin against the top of my head while his lean body twitched against mine with stifled laughter. I pressed myself into him, daring to let our bare, wet skin touch, and after a bit of this his laughter subsided. He tensed noticeably, the friendly embrace he held me in loosening as he pulled away slowly, dark eyes searching my questioning ones to ask permission for what he was about to do. Finding nothing but approval in my gaze, he lowered his lips to mine and delivered the single sweetest, most meaningful kiss that two people have ever shared in all of Degrassi, Toronto, or hell, probably even Canada. When finally we broke apart to gasp for breath, his cheek found its way against my forehead, our faces resting together perfectly as though their meeting had been preordained. Softly, he whispered his undying love and devotion to me, forsaking Ashley and all other brunette sluts in the hopes of finding true happiness with the redhead everyone else had overlooked. I, of course, returned the sentiment, and from that night forward the two of us were never separated. With steadfast fidelity and unwavering passion, we persevering through all that our senior year could throw at us, standing together hand in hand at graduation and looking ahead eagerly to what the future would hold for us. We went on to marry, making tons and tons of pale little curly headed babies, some with locks of amber and some with tresses of chocolate, but all of them beautiful. And we lived happily ever after. The end.

And Kendra Mason won Miss Universe.

I mean, come on! Did you honestly think anything romantic would transpire between the two of us? You already knew how the school year played out, and it definitely wasn't in my favor.

But in case you didn't, or if you have selective amnesia, let me refresh your memory. Ashley stayed in England and voila, suddenly Craig was unattached and not so forbidden. We had a minor falling out over the subject, but came back from it better friends than ever. Key word here, friends. Then, on the advice of my gay little matchmaker Marco, I stupidly decided to do something about this troublesome crush of mine on said guitar-player. Fast-forward to our wedding gig and my hideous crash and burn at any chance of a non-platonic relationship, involving a ridiculously expensive dress and childish drumstick-throwing antics. Nevertheless, the evening provided romance for some, as the object of my affection rediscovered the love he held for his dead baby's mama. The two of them then swiftly engaged in a rigorous competition to see who could suck each other's face off the fastest in the weeks that followed. I, on the other hand, continued to be viewed as just another "one of the guys." Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but not many "guy friends" pin one another to the ground in tickle fights, do they? Didn't think so, but obviously that little hint didn't matter to the densest boy on earth.

So yadda, yadda, he goes away to pursue his dream and I pull the "I'm happy with whatever makes you happy" bullshit, though I cried furiously for days once he was gone over the shattered million little pieces that once made up my battered heart. I scraped hard at the remaining shards to find feelings other than friendship for Jimmy, but unfortunately I still came up empty-handed. For a second, I though that this might have been how Craig felt about the two of us, but that notion hurt too much, so I pushed it away. Months passed, and we glimpsed each other at graduation, and shared a few words at Paige's party following the ceremony, but then he was off and again we went our separate ways.

So imagine my surprise when Marco showed up at my door early one summer morning, whooping loudly and jumping up and down like a little boy on Christmas morning. Groggily, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and almost dropped the cell phone that de Rossi eagerly thrust it into my hands. I heard a familiar voice issuing from it, and after lifting the small device to my ear I felt wide awake at once.

"So whaddya think Nash?" Craig asked me tauntingly, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. I knew exactly the type of face he must be making at that moment, the crinkle that would be forming at the corners of his eyes, the direction his shaggy head would be tilting, the rhythm his fingers would be drumming. It scares me how vividly I can still see him.

"What the hell are you talking about Manning? This little homo messenger of yours woke me up from a lovely deep sleep, and I am in no mood for guessing games. Explain yourself." I replied gruffly, trying hard to maintain a tone of indifference while my heart performed an intricate routine of flip-flops.

"He didn't tell you, eh? Well its really a long story..."

"Manning..."

"Nash..."

"I'm warning you..."

We could have gone on like this for hours, both of us stubborn as hell and unwilling to give in. God, how I had missed this, our sarcastic banter and good-humored malice. We knew exactly how to push each other's buttons, and were carefully skirting our way around the question at hand just to piss the other the hell off. How could he not see the thinly-veiled flirting that was going on here?

Thankfully though, Marco did, and interrupted.

"Tickets Elle, tickets! Craig got us tickets out to Vancouver to go see him! We leave next week!" He had clutched his flawlessly manicured hands over his heart, and his wide-eyed enthusiasm fit the bill for your basic stereotype of blissful gay exuberance. Oh, my silly Marco, how differently we conveyed ourselves, yet still managed to understand each another perfectly.

A huge smile broke out over my face, but I spoke sullenly into the phone. "Next week? Thinking a little highly of yourself, aren't you sir? That's awfully short notice to demand such a visit you know. Why makes you think I don't have pressing prior engagements?"

Marco rolled his eyes at me and made fish-faced kissy gestures. In return I stomped on his foot and stuck out my tongue. All three of us knew that I was definitely going.

"Break 'em." He drawled, "No one in Degrassi means as much to you as me."

Oh God, if only he knew how right he was...

The week went by in no time, and soon we were on our way to Vancouver. Marco almost hyperventilated when the plane hit turbulence, and to be totally honest with you, I was scared as well, but laughing at him took some of the edge off my nerves. Though I wasn't completely put at ease by the "fasten seatbelt" sign, the nervous jumble in my stomach was really due more in part to the boy who was waiting for us than the ups and downs of our transportation.

Marco spotted him first across the pandemonium in the airport, and the second I saw him I knew I had made the right choice in coming here. He was smiling that same old smile, the one that radiated his easy confidence and sly charm, telling me in an instant that Vancouver hadn't taken the boy I was in love with out of him. I was the first one he greeted, and he hugged me tightly and set his chin on the top of my head just like that night at the pool had been yesterday, and not over a year ago. I wanted to get lost in that moment, to stop time and make everyone else besides us disappear, but before I knew it he had released me and moved on to Marco. Just like old times...just us guys.

Vancouver was fun, Craig had a good time showing us around the city, and we had a good time playing tourists, but I am not going to bore you with our itinerary. We saw some cool places, met some intriguing people, and ate some awesome food, but nothing that would really be interesting to anyone besides the three of us. Besides, the daytime was fine, but it's what happened at night that made that trip so memorable.

He was trying his best to be quiet when he came into our hotel room that first night, but I could tell he was there from the second he opened the door. I had been sleeping, but the soft click of the lock jolted me awake in an instant, and a flicker of fear shot through me. Then I saw the lanky form and knew it had to be him, because he had taken Marco's key to the room the two of us shared at dinner, tucking the card inside his back pocket until we had forgotten all about it. Looking quite comical on tiptoe, Craig snuck past the boy who was snoring softly on the double bed beside mine and my heartbeat quickened. What did he want?

My lids were closed but somehow he knew I was faking. Kneeling beside my bed, he flicked my shoulder hard and hissed for me to wake up. I tried to feign sleepiness, but I could tell in the way that he was squinting at me he didn't buy it for one second. I dropped the act and sat up, looking inquiringly at him as the mattress beside me sank under the weight of his elbows, which he was leaning on.

"What do you want Craig? Can't you tell I need my beauty rest?"

"Why bother Elle? Looks like to me like you would have to be asleep for years to get any use out of if."

"You know, I didn't come all this way to be insulted. Good night." With that I slumped back down onto my pillow, pulling the covers up protectively to my chin, only to have them ripped away almost immediately.

"Craig!" I sat up once again. "What the-"

He grabbed me, throwing me gracelessly over his shoulder as though I were nothing more than his guitar case, and was already beginning to make his way out of the room before I could come to my senses and protest.

"Craig!" I dumbly repeated, attempting to flail my arms and legs against him.

"Shh!" he ordered, and for some reason I shut up and listened to him. "The hotel has a great pool, but it's locked after hours so we have to be quiet. Feel like a swim, Nash?"


So I lied. Well, only sorta, this started out as an epilogue, but I had too many ideas to fit into one installment. Can an epilogue be written in chapters? Or should I stop here?