This next chapter still contains dialogue from Degrassi's "Time Stands Still" episode, and I'm still a disclaimer. Thanks for continuing to read this story!

XXXI. Unexpected, Understatement

Thursday

1 day until Whack-Your-Brain

Vivian Graham

"Well hot dog." Emma tells me about the news. "I guess he was desperate for a replacement."

"Well...considering that the finals are tomorrow", Emma brushes up her bangs, "you could say that he's on the brink of panicking. You should have seen him last night. When he found out Heather Sinclair was getting sick, he began juggling stress balls and talking to himself."

When Marco told us about the news this morning, he was worried that Degrassi would have to forfeit because four members are needed exactly to compete in Whack-Your-Brain. No more, no less. I was worried for the same reasons he was: all of student council's work going down the drain. As we stand next to Raditch's office, Emma just told me that Snake was able to find another student to take Heather's place, though neither of us know who it is.

"Do you think this new kid will hold you guys back? Or keep you from winning?" I ask.

"No more than Heather did." Replies Emma. She runs her fingers through a bundle of index cards. "Whoever we have now will be way more committed to the team than she ever was, especially since they only have today to study."

"Like waiting until the day before to study for a test." I chuckle.

"Exactly." Emma smirks. "Gotta find the people I do know. Wanna come?"

I smile. "No thanks. I'm meeting up with Marco. We ordered some t-shirts that should have been here two days ago, but they just came today."

"A shameful day for the t-shirt business." Emma fakes a tsk-tsk. "Later."

"Bye." I watch as Emma walks past me, her hair flying in all directions.

Emma is unaware with what happened between Rick and I Tuesday afternoon. I'm grateful that the finals are keeping both of us busy, and in different ways. We don't have to awkwardly stumble across each other in class because neither of us will hardly be in class. I know I'll have to confront him at some point, but that day is NOT today.

"You're always so early!" Marco appears, hurrying over to my side. "You don't have to wait for me all the time."

I smile. "I know, but I'd much rather have someone with me when it comes to Mr. Raditch."

"Even with something as easy as picking up a box of t-shirts. Well," He looks at me, "maybe not easy for you specifically, but…" He laughs at himself. "Okay. You got me."

"Thank you." I say. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Although the door is open, Marco knocks on the principal's door for common courtesy. "Good morning, Mr. Raditch. We're here to pick up our t-shirts." He greets cheerily.

Raditch is on his feet scrambling about, in his usual graphite-colored suit, stuffing papers into file cabinets. "Marco. Vivian." He says in the midst of this, not looking up at us. "Help yourself. The box is on the other side of my desk."

"Thank you, sir." I say, moving towards the brown, cardboard box that's sealed shut by packaging tape. Marco follows me over.

"This is definitely it." Marco grabs a short end, and I grab the opposite end. "Okay. We're taking the box to the library. Alex should be coming with the the wagon to help us move the box. Let's just get it outside."

"I wish I could help you all out, but I have my hands full at the moment." Mr. Raditch says from his desk. He makes eye contact with me (Marco's back is facing him).

I smile. "I think we're good." I say to him. "But thanks for offering."

"Anytime." Raditch replies. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"We will." Marco grunts as we lift up the box at the same time. "Have a good day, sir."

"And you." Our principal replies as we slowly walk out of the office.

Once we make it out into the waiting area, we rotate ourselves so that I'm walking backwards. Marco can see over me better than I can see over him. (I guess I really am a midget).

"Wait!" Marco exclaims. "I think I see...Liberty? What's she doing with the wagon?"

I cast my head over my shoulder to the best of my ability. Because she's so tall, I can only see Liberty's blue and pink striped t-shirt.

"Greetings, friends." Liberty belts in her strong, heavy voice. "Since I was in the middle of using this wagon for my own supplies, I'll assist you in moving your box."

"Uhhh...hey," Marco smiles awkwardly. "Sooo as long as it gets to the library."

"Right." I say. Liberty, you're my new favorite person. I'm just glad that she's not Alex. Or Rick.

Rick Murray

"Toby, I can't be on the same team as Jimmy. He'll sabotage me in some way or another."

My friend and I are walking through the student-filled hallways. I just informed him about the jolly good news about our brand-new teammate.

"C'mon, man, out of the three of them, Jimmy's the least threatening." He tells me. "And Snake will be around most of the time. He won't mess with you half of the time. More than half of the time."

"Toby, I've just about had it with Jimmy and his friends; that quarter of the time he may have to harass me is more than enough." I reply. "Whack-Your-Brain is supposed to be the one place where I'm not treated like a piece of trash."

"So? Jimmy doesn't like me either." Toby says. "He used give me a hard time too."

"Used to, Toby?" I say. "He's moved on to an easier target now, hasn't he?"

"Hey, guys!" An exclamation from Emma catches my attention, and Toby and I look back to see her running toward us. She appears excited, a rare sight. "I made flashcards!" She shows us her white stack of index cards. "Do you want me to quiz by category or should I shuffle?"

"I'm quitting." I say immediately, turning away from her.

"Rick," she says, "the finals are tomorrow."

"We have a new teammate: Jimmy Brooks, a.k.a., my daily tormentor." I reply.

"I told you man: just go to Simpson." Toby reminds me of what he said in our previous class. "Just…ask him for a rethink on his decision."

"If Jimmy's booted now, he'll know it was me." I argue.

Now Emma sides with Toby. "Jimmy and them? They don't like you because they don't know you." She says.

"So?" Jimmy liking me is the least of my worries. I just want them all to mind their own.

"So…" Emma continues, "you came back to Degrassi to show you've changed, right?"

I look back at Emma.

"So work with Jimmy on the team. Show him you're not the guy he thinks you are."

Does she think she's telling me something I don't already know? As if any of them are on the same maturity level as I am to do such a thing.

My point is proven as I catch sight of my locker. There are two, crinkled pieces of notebook paper attached vertically against the door. They both read "Go home freak" in graffiti-like print. This has to be the twentieth time this has happened since I've been here.

"You think they wanna know who I am?" I indicate my locker. "They wanna torture me."

Emma and Toby both look at the sight. Then Emma silently walks over to my locker and rips off both papers, wading them up and tossing them on the floor. "Rick," her voice is a shade softer, "we need you on the team. So you need to do something." She slowly forms a smile on her face, holding it for several seconds, before she walks away.

My heart freezes in my chest. Her gesture, Emma's smile, is so out of place with the state of my life right now that I feel at ease for once in these past twenty-four hours. These past twenty-four hours of misery. It's unusual for Emma, Miss let's conserve the environment, save the animals Emma Nelson, to litter anything on the floor. But she did because she cared about me...No. she only cares about her team. The shallow side of Emma doesn't want to look bad in front of her peers.

While deep down I know that Emma is thinking of herself, someone in this school cares enough about my well-being to guide me in the right direction. Her smile...she's never smiled at me before. I can replay the scene in my mind over and over again. This in turn causes me to smile...you're a wise soul, Emma.

Motivated by her compassion, I turn to go to Principal Raditch's office—again.

"Uh...see you, man." Toby says.

I change directions and head towards the hallway where the main offices are located. On the way there I swerve past Liberty who's pulling a large wagon behind her with an equally large box inside. Flanking her on either side are Marco and—

Vivian. My heart crashes in my chest.

"Make sure you watch out for any gum that might be on the floor." She says to her friends. She's so busy looking down at the wagon that she didn't see me walk by.

Seeing Vivian throws off my attention. I want to turn back the clock and erase any intimate moment I ever had with her. She's slowly becoming popular since she transferred to Degrassi. I can't be with someone as perfect as she. Who was I to think that I was even remotely in the same league as her? That I could be with a creature as beautiful and kind and pure as she? That she would want to be with an ugly psycho like me? We're beginning to live in two different worlds. She'll find someone more fit for her, who won't harm her the way I did. Whose lack of psycho reputation won't stress her out.

I'm able to snap myself out of it as I approach the doorway to the principal's lobby area. As I walk up to the doorway I discover that the door to his office is wide open. This should be fun. Watch him do nothing at all.

I think of Emma's smile again and knock on the open door. Raditch is standing at his desk organizing an assortment of papers.

I speak immediately, "Mr. Raditch, sir, I require a kind of a favor." Not bad. "Uh...it's concerning a member of the Whack-Your-Brain Team."

His response: "Do I look like I have time for a chat, Richard? Your point?" He moves to an open drawer to file away some papers.

Just say it, you wuss. "Um...he's harassing me, sir."

"Harassing how?"

"Well...he, uh, doesn't like me," I explain, "and he has no problems expressing it." It's the best way I can word it without sounding like a pathetic fool.

"So are you asking me to order this student to like you? Do you really think that will resolve matters?" Raditch pulls a theory out of his ass that I never even suggested. "Richard, I've told you time and time again: it takes two to tango." He affirms in his deep voice.

"Sir—"

"You don't like him: he doesn't like you, so I suggest you try harder to get along. Come back if anything serious happens. That is all."

And so it is. Raditch continues to arrange papers on his desk and doesn't look up at me again. Feeling yet again a sense of defeat, I slowly leave the office. I wasted my time, again, coming to him for help. How in the hell can anyone even call him a principal?

Fairly well, Raditch. From now on I'll take matters into my own hands.

Vivian Graham

"Not bad. I really like these!" I hold up the t-shirt that I ordered to my chest. It'll be a little baggy, but a generic small size isn't made to fit petite girls like me.

Marco and I are at a group of study tables in the library, making sure everyone in student council has a chance to stop by and pick up their t-shirts. They're all a shade of light blue with white text written on the front and back. "Degrassi Student Council 2004-2005" is on the front; on the back reads "Need anything? Ask us!"

"You do? Good!" Marco sighs in relief. "I was worried that the saying was too cheesy or unoriginal."

"It's appropriate for our job tomorrow." I remind him. "And besides: I'd like to see anyone else run the student body and design a cool t-shirt!"

Marco smiles at me. "Your moral support means a lot, Vivian." He leans against the table and crosses his arms. "You know...I was thinking of who would take that vice president position after Alex resigns and...honestly I think you're the best person for the spot."

I fold my shirt neatly to the side. "Really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, we get along SO well. You're a lot easier to consult than Alex by far." He chuckles at this. "For another, you're a friendly, sweet person. Students shouldn't be intimidated by the student council exec. members. So as longs as you don't butt heads as often as you do with Alex."

"Yeah, I know." I smirk. "Most times it's—"

"—it's her. I get it." Marco says gently. "I'm not blaming you. But you realize all of the responsibilities that come with being in a slightly higher spot." He grins playfully. "Don't you?"

"Of course!" I gleefully slap his arm.

"Good. Now can I exit dad mode now?"

"Sure thing, Papa Marco." I laugh after saying this.

"Ah, but you haven't seen Papa Delrossi yet." Marco pulls out his Italian accent, inspired by his own father, and I laugh harder.

"Well, it's always fun to work with you." I say. "And I feel like I can come to you for anything as well." Almost anything. "And you also encourage me to do my best, so…"

"Will you at least think about it?" Marco asks in a gentler voice. "I know that you're new here, but you willingly took up Heather Sinclair's old responsibilities, and you're awesome at it. I...can honestly see you as president of student council in the future."

I'm moved by Marco's faith in me. "That means a lot to me, Marco. Thanks a lot! I'll...I'll definitely think about it."

"Good." He pats my shoulder. "Now let's get these shirts out to the rest of our members."

"Sounds good! " I fish into my red backpack, also sitting on the table, and pull out my pager from one of the smaller pockets. "The best thing about being secretary is that I can use this, and no one can take it away from me!" I fake an evil witch cackle. I begin paging members to remind them to pick up their shirts. We're all required to wear them tomorrow as we volunteer to help out the Whack-Your-Brain crew. Most of it is just moving in and out equipment that will be set up tomorrow morning, which means another early morning for the Stuco kids. At least the weekend's around the corner. Then all of this madness will be over.

"Hey, guys!" I look up from my pager to see Donna walking toward us. "Are those our shirts?" She looks at my folded one on the table. "They look great, guys! Can I get mine's?"

I smile at her. "Of course!." I grab my clipboard that currently holds the names of members along with their size orders. "You ordered a...medium?"

"That's right." She smiles back.

"Just a sec." Marco, now standing, reaches into the box and pulls out another tee. "Here you go!" He hands the brown-haired girl her shirt.

"Thanks, guys." Donna hugs the shirt with both arms. "I'll be happily wearing this tomorrow."

"Ooooh, good." Marco's exhale of excitement is genuine. "See you tomorrow morning if I don't see you again today."

"Yeah, see you guys!" Donna waves at both of us in turn before leaving the library. At the same moment I notice two other people are entering the library and walking toward us.

Both Marco and I stand attentively, but as the two get closer, I discover that neither of them are in student council. Heck, the first person to reach our table isn't even a student! It's Miss Sauvé.

"Hi, Vivian." She greets me with a small smile. "I know you're busy here, but when you get a moment, can you meet me in the back room of the library? I have some news for you."

I'm probably squinting in confusion right now. "Umm...okay."

"Good. I'll be standing outside the door so you can find me." She walks away as quickly as she approaches.

I look at Marco. He shrugs. "I wouldn't worry about it. I'll be fine, especially now that Elle's here." He nods over at the second person to reach us, a ginger with long hair wearing a black vest with a matching skirt. Her arms and legs are both covered in black fishnets. "Elle, meet Vivian. She's the student council secretary, and you'll be replacing her with handing out t-shirts!"

The girl named Elle playfully rolls her eyes. "Leave it to Marco to enslave me with his work." She looks at me while saying this.

Haven't I seen her before…? I ponder her face, but smile at her remark.

"By the way, I go by Ellie even though my official name is Eleanor Nash, but please: Ellie's fine."

I chuckle. "I understand. Nice to meet you, Ellie." I extend my hand to her.

"You too." Ellie takes my hand, and we shake. "So...are you...new this year? I've never seen you at Degrassi in the past." A small smile grows on her face.

"I am." I reply. "I'm from the U.S. originally."

"Wow. Big move. Been there before." Ellie says. "So…" she faces Marco. "There's something I need to talk to you about. I'm sorry it couldn't wait." She says "sorry" with her Canadian accent.

"Elle, you're talking to me, remember?" Marco points at himself. "I'm here for you anytime. And Vivian has to see Miss Sauvé, so you're timing is beautiful."

Ellie smiles bigger.

"Well I'll leave you guys to chat." I say. "See you later Marco, and nice meeting you Ellie!"

"Same." She replies.

"Later, Vivi-G!" Marco waves at me.

I quickly head towards the back right section of the library where there are two rooms at the corner wall. Miss Sauve is standing outside of the one to the left.

"Well that was fast."

I chuckle. "Marco has help from one of his friends." say.

"Good." Miss Sauvé knocks on the door two times.

The door opens halfway, and a black man with a two-piece suit (white blouse and black pants) stands before me. He's about average height, head cleanly-shaven, though his ebony facial hair that starts from his upper lip and goes down to his chin, frames his face. He's pretty young, a few years younger than my dad. "Vivian Graham?" He says in a very familiar accent.

"That's me." I say.

The man extends his hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Detective Sean Morris. I'm here from the Chicago Police Department. Would you mind stepping in? Me and some of my team members have something to inform you on."

Did the air conditioner suddenly come on full blast? Goosebumps begin to cover my arms. I look at Miss Sauvé. "Just you guys? Can...can Miss Sauvé come in with us?" It's like I'm seven years old and want my mom to accompany me wherever I go.

"I'm sorry, Vivian, but this information is strictly confidential. We only need you. We won't bite I promise." He smiles for the first time, warm and full, the way my dad smiles at me.

I look at Sauvé one last time. She smiles at me. "I'll be right here when you come out." She says warmly.

I nod quietly before following Detective Morris into the conference room. He holds the door open before closing it behind us.

At the table are two more detectives, both white, another man and a woman. The woman is a tall brunette, her long hair almost as dark as mine's. Her pale blue eyes give her face a striking contrast.

The white man looks a lot younger, barely out of college. He's tall and gangly with curly, mouse brown hair and matching, light brown eyes.

"Vivian," Detective Morris stands beside me, "these are detectives Robin Cadence", the woman waves her hand, "and Jordan Wallace." The man gives a small smile. "You might recognize them."

My body runs cold. Very vaguely I recognize the woman more so than the man. My heart freezes in my throat. The flashback of that terrible afternoon comes to me, back when we lived in Chicago…

"You-you were at my mom's crime scene." Maybe it was her dark hair against her icy-blue eyes, but she was the one strange face that stood out to me that traumatic night.

The lady smiles at me. "Yes I was."

I look at the curly-haired man, then back at the man who brought me in. "So I'm assuming what you have to say is also about my mom."

"Vivian," Detective Cadence takes a seat across from me, "we would like for you to tell us about your mom in her years before her death. Her behavior...how she interacted with you—"

"What is this? Law and Order!?" I blurt out. "I can't do this now. I'm preparing for—"

I stop talking. No one interrupts me: I just pause to think. "Why-why do you ask?"

"There's some information we've uncovered about your mom."

I think about the mug shots that I discovered in our trunk in the attic. "What...information?"

"We've...attained some new information regarding her death." I notice Detective Cadence choosing her words carefully.

"I don't follow. What could be new? She committed suicide, so how—"

Again, I cut myself off. The flashbacks of walking in on my mom's remains as she sat in her favorite chair come back to me. Then the year after, coping with the grief, and now dealing with the gory nightmares…

Deep down I know what these detectives are going to tell me, but I don't want to be the first to say it. Maybe if I don't say anything, it won't be true. My body, however, is prepared for the news: my hands are trembling, my forehead and armpits begin to sweat, and as I look at these detectives' glaring eyes, I can spell despair.

"My mom committed suicide." I repeat. "She killed herself."

"That's why we came to see you, Vivian." Detective Wallace leans in towards me, speaking in a gentle voice. "Your mom didn't kill herself." There's a brief pause. "She was murdered."