Chapter Four: Nightmares, Memories, and Chocolate Cake

"Paige, where are we going?" As she spoke while I tugged her along, she squeezed my hand, and pulled me into her. We were incredibly close: our noses touched, my chest pressed gently against hers. Honestly, we weren't caught in this position often, let alone while roaming the halls of Degrassi C.S., when she should be attending class – gym class – but she left her books with me, on purpose, so I would have an excuse to see her during the day.

"I thought you wanted to go back to gym," I whispered back. I was defenseless: my knees were already growing weak beneath my weight. Alex's palm spread over my lower back wasn't helping my vulnerable situation any.

"And miss being with you? Never," She replied, her steps going backwards, mine forwards. She was wearing her signature smirk, while I chose a simple grin.
"Now I feel like a dumb blonde."
"If you were dumb, you wouldn't have been accepted to Banting, Paige."

"Then maybe I wouldn't have set my dorm room on fire and dr-" My words were silenced, by the press of Alex's lips against mine. Moments later, I pulled away, with a wider smile and flushed cheeks. "What was I saying?"

"That you're going to meet me at the Dot when I get out of school."

"I'm sure I wasn't abo-" Again, she trapped me in a lip lock. Though, when we heard someone clearing their throat, both of us retracted from the kiss. I looked over Alex's shoulder, nervously smiling.

"Hi, Mrs. Hatzilakos…"

Alex grimaced to me, before forcing a smile. "I'm going back to gym, Mrs. H, I swear…"

"Good for you, Alex. But I'm afraid this meeting with Miss Michalchuk is over." With that, Alex moved her hand from my lower back, flashing me a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry, Paige."

Being escorted away from Alex, who sulked back to gym, I looked back at her three times: the first, she had two heads; second, a tail; third, three heads, and "I hate Paige" written on the back of her shirt…

I drifted into a nightmare; of course. Sure, I've had nightmares where Alex left me, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating. Normally, she would wake up from my shifting, and comfort me back to sleep: Alex could be the sweetest person when she wanted to be. But, this time, she's not here, and she'll never be here again. All I have is my memories of her.

Walking to the kitchen, my arms seemed permanently crossed over my chest, I noticed, and it made me realize exactly how dependent I had become. Alex kept me from the occasional panic attacks, she made heart-shaped pancakes whenever I needed cheering up; on those few mornings, she would make me a cup of coffee, and bring it to me in bed. I never took these choice moments for granted, and I tried to treat her to the same royalties, but she never accepted them from me. She just set aside whatever I was offering and pulled me back into bed with her; if she wasn't in a good mood or we were fighting, she accepted the offer in silence.

There had to be something I could do, at one in the morning, to keep my mind off of Alex, for the time being. So, I searched the cabinets: luckily, I found a box of chocolate cake mix, which made me inwardly smile. Baking a cake would distract me from my worries, and my thoughts on Alex.

Marco was right: I need to move on.