Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi. This story idea belongs to marieloveseclare. Thanks to arctic_grey for writing The Black Rose Season and being a writing inspiration.
Author's note: Thank you SO much for the response! I'm pretty excited about writing this. Remember, the prologue was set in the future of this fic, and this is the official start. Also, this is Eclare all the way, but the Cake in this is necessary. Sorry.
Set four months before the prologue.
"I know who you are, don't know who you're not. I don't dare ask."
Cryptomnesia | Cold War Kids
Someone is following her, swiftly, effortlessly.
Someone grabs her by the wrist and pulls her in. Lips clash, hungry and eager.
They pull away from each other, the night surrounding them both.
Clare holds her breath as she pulls the man closer to her.
"Claaaaaaaaaaaaaaare!"
Clare opens her eyes quickly, and screams at the sight of one of her best friends. Jake Martin is leaning in, all smiles, and he starts chuckling at Clare's reaction.
"What are you doing here?" she squeals, grabbing the covers and covering herself with them. She knows that she's blushing, but hey, that's how Jake makes her feel. Yes, they have been best friends for years, and she sortofkindof has a crush on him. A tiny crush. Nothing major. Right.
"Doing my job," shrugs Jake smugly. "New semester, Clare-darling! I promised your dad I would make sure you got to school safely, now that you have your own apartment and everything."
"I have Alli, thank you very much," says Clare, thinking of her cheerful roommate. "Wait... Alli was the one who let you in. Ugh!"
"She was on her way out when I got here," says Jake. "She had to go meet Drew before class, I think."
Jake laughs merrily, his smile reaching his eyes, and Clare feels lost.
"And my dad really needs to start minding his own business," huffs Clare, crossing her arms. "I'm 20 years old!"
"Well, after what happened to Sadie Rowland, I don't blame your dad," sighs Jake.
Clare says nothing as she remembers the gruesome on-campus murder that shook the university, at the end of last semester. Freshman Sadie Rowland was found stabbed, beaten up, with a bullet lodged in the back of her neck. A lot of conspiracy theories were muttered, but the police didn't get any leads and the case got stuck.
Jake wrote several pieces about it for the school newspaper, but after finals, people just lost interest in it. The only reminder of the tragic event is the reinforcement of security around campus, and a slight drop in applications. Other than that, people seem to have erased the incident from their minds. At least that's what Clare got from looking at Facerange and Twitter updates from fellow classmates and friends during the break.
Sadie who?
"I wonder if the murderer is a student," mumbles Clare absentmindedly for the thousandth time.
"Whoever it was, he or she is on the loose," says Jake darkly. "Hey, you know I would love to discuss this yet again, but you're going to be late for your first class."
Clare glances at her alarm clock and raises an eyebrow at Jake. "My first class starts in three hours!" she protests, and Jake presses a finger against Clare's lips. Well, hello, this is quite nice.
"I thought we could have breakfast first, and I kind of wanted to introduce you to the new editor," winks Jake. "Maybe she'll convince you to write something for us. You're so talented."
Clare just can't say no to Jake, it's not in her system. She feels like her insides are turning into mush, and she caves in. "You're so nice," she says sarcastically.
"Of course," says Jake, standing up. "I'll always be nice to you because you're my favorite girl."
"Get out," giggles Clare, throwing a pillow at him, and Jake holds his hands in the air as he backs away, moving closer to the door.
"This aggressiveness, I can't stand it!" he says mockingly, and leaves the room. Clare keeps smiling, but all of a sudden, the thoughts of Sadie Rowland and her interrupted dream haunt her, and she has no idea why.
xxxxxx
"You have sugar on your lips," says Jake softly as they exit the cafe, and Clare wipes it away with her sleeve quickly, embarrassed.
"I like the new headband," comments Jake casually as he toys with the buttons of his jacket. Red and brown leaves are on the ground, which makes Clare happy. She loves this season, she loves the cold weather, and most of all, she loves spending time with Jake.
It's the first day of the semester, and maybe this will be the semester when Jake will finally make a move. Maybe he will see that those girls he has been chasing are nothing compared to Clare, that she's the only one for him.
"Hey, Jake!" calls a pretty blonde, and Jake waves back.
Or not, Clare thinks bitterly.
"Come on, Clare," says Jake, offering his arm to her. Clare blushes as they link their arms and they walk around campus before heading to the newsroom. They talk about their winter break, and Jake smiles and laughs every time Clare says something mildly interesting.
Their friendship is simple and not complicated at all, and Clare likes that. Okay, maybe the fact that she is crushing on him complicates it a little, but the only one who knows about that is Alli. As long as Jake doesn't find out, everything will be okay.
"Martin!" barks a pretty redhead as soon as they walk into the newsroom.
"Holly J, ma'am," says Jake sheepishly, letting go of Clare's arm.
"You're late! We're having our first meeting and as managing editor you should be here on time!" Holly J says angrily, and then stops to look at Clare.
Clare has seen Holly J before, she used to be the news editor, and Jake would make fun of her behavior all the time, amusing Clare with his perfect impression.
"She's the new editor-in-chief," says Jake from the corner of his lips.
"Oh," muses Clare.
"I just wanted you to meet Clare Edwards," says Jake coquettishly, and some of Holly J's defenses seem to fall apart. "She's a brilliant writer."
"So she's not the flavor of the month?" says Holly J scathingly, her expression cold again.
"She's my best friend," says Jake happily, putting his arm around Clare.
"That is beautiful and all, but you're wasting my freaking time!" snaps Holly J. "Your point?"
"Do we have any openings?" asks Jake.
"Jake, no-" interjects Clare, but Jake ignores her.
"Not at the moment, no, and- Anya! What the hell do you think you're doing?" bellows Holly J, her eyes directed at the back of the room. She turns to look at Clare and Jake, both of them taking a few steps back. "Be right back."
Holly J stomps away, still yelling at the top of her lungs, and Jake starts laughing. "It will be a fun semester," he grins, and then points at a minuscule desk in a corner. "I get my own desk now!"
"You're managing editor," says Clare in awe. "I didn't know that."
"After writing all those stories about Sadie, I got offered the position," says Jake, not able to hide his smugness. "Who knew writing about a dead chick would help promote me? Plus, I wanted to surprise you. Come and look at my desk."
They walk over to the desk and Jake makes jokes about the size of it, which Clare promptly ignores. She looks at the mail tray and she grabs an envelope sitting on top of it.
"You have mail already," she says, waving the envelope in front of Jake.
"Give me that," teases Jake, snatching the envelope from her. "Oh, it is for me. First day back and I'm already important."
Jake opens the envelope lazily as Clare looks around the newsroom, and she can't help but think that the room is too small for a staff of twenty. She could see herself writing for them, but not in this environment. Everyone is running around, yelling at each other, and it's just the beginning of the semester. No, thank you.
"Fuck," mutters Jake, and Clare turns to look at him, surprised. Jake rarely curses, and he's staring at the papers in his hand in complete shock.
"What's-" starts Clare, but Jake holds a hand up to silence her.
"It's about Sadie... wow." Jake hands the papers to Clare, who looks at them in interest, reading the messy writing. There's a circle sketched on top of the page and words such as Aeon, Charmer and others scribbled around it.
Sadie Rowland belonged to Acuity.
Acuity was the end of Sadie.
Aeon knows something.
Foxy knows everything.
But Quicksilver is everything.
And the one who knows everything is El-
Jake takes the papers away from Clare, shaking with excitement. "I wonder who left this," whispers Jake, his eyes eagerly rereading the page.
"Jake, you have to hand this in," says Clare cautiously. "You have to give this to the police."
"Please, two months have passed since Sadie was killed and they're not any closer to the truth," snorts Jake. "Someone wants me to write this. Someone wants me to find Sadie's killer."
"You're not a detective, you're a journalist," says Clare sternly.
"Don't be a killjoy," says Jake, rolling his eyes. "I wonder what this means. I wonder if it has a anything to do with the rumored secret society."
"Secret society?" asks Clare quizzically.
"Those rumors have always been around," says Jake, waving his hand around impatiently. "But after Sadie's death, when I started doing my research, they became stronger. So, I don't know."
"Jake, you're going to get hurt," protests Clare. "In case you forgot, Sadie got killed. Just hand it in, please."
Jake stares at her blankly, not saying a word. Why must he be so stubborn?
"Martin!"
Jake looks away, and Holly J glaring at them, the writers surrounding her almost shaking with fear. "Meeting is about to start!" she says impatiently.
"Can't walk you to class, but I'll meet you after it," says Jake, his smile reappearing. "I have to take care of you, Clare."
"Take care of yourself first," says Clare crossly; she holds on to her bag as she walks away, cursing Jake Martin and his penchant for adventure.
xxxxxxx
She shouldn't have left the newsroom like that, but Jake was getting on her nerves. Clare glances at her watch as she waits in the hallway, students already lining up outside the classroom. Although English is just her minor, she still needs to take several English-related classes. She's actually excited about her World Literature class, and wonders what kind of books they will read.
A boy with bright green eyes and messy black hair is standing across the hall from Clare, his back resting against the wall. He's reading Fight Club and seems deeply concentrated in the book, not blinking at all. Clare has seen him around campus, and they had a class together during her freshman year. He's always withdrawn, usually doodling on his fingernails with a marker or reading some obscure Palahniuk novel. She has also heard some rumors about him, but Clare's not the gossiping type.
He seems like the kind of guy you should be afraid of, for some reason.
Clare feels intrigued by him, wondering if he's hiding any secrets behind his green eyes. Not that Clare has stared at him before, no, no way. She's just curious by nature, and there's something about him that makes Clare want to figure him out. SHe tries to remember his name, but her memory fails her miserably, so she just gives up.
The (presumably) older boy sighs and looks up, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He gnaws on his lower lip impatiently, and Clare is mesmerized by the sight. And then he glances at her.
His eyes are filled with some sort of recognition but he looks away quickly, not giving Clare the time to offer him a smile. His mouth is twitching as he looks away, and Clare wonders what's so funny about what's going on. If there's something going on. Whatever, he seems like one of those pretentious art majors she dislikes so much, she has no time for this.
And suddenly, hell breaks loose.
"Eli Goldsworthy!" Clare jumps as an enraged guy comes out of nowhere, lunging himself at Eli. A scuffle ensues, and students rush over to see the fight, feeling like high school all over again.
"You… fucking… asshole…" the other boy breathes, and Zane Park reaches out for the back of the guy's jacket. Zane is the president of one of the fraternities on campus, and Clare is surprised to see him getting involved in this.
"Dave, Dave, let go of him," says Zane peacefully, holding Dave back. Dave looks familiar to Clare, and she frowns as she tries to remember if she has seen him before, and where.
Eli stands up, his expression tired, and he brushes dust off his clothes. His lower lip is bleeding profusely but Eli doesn't attempt to brush off the blood. He just stares at Dave blankly, as if waiting for Dave to continue yelling.
It doesn't take Clare long to remember that Dave was Sadie's boyfriend at the time of her death. She remembers the picture in the newspaper; she remembers when Jake had to interview him for comment. Dave looks distraught, his eyes filled with resentment, and he spits at Eli's feet.
"What is going on in here?" yells one of the campus' security guards.
"Nothing… nothing," says Eli spitefully, licking his lower lip. "Absolutely nothing."
The guard doesn't look convinced, and glares at Eli, who seems eerily calm.
"I'm going to kill you!" cries Dave, trying to get out of Zane's grasp, but the officer intervenes.
"You're coming with me," the guard says, pulling a struggling Dave away. Dave keeps yelling things, his voice heavy with anger, and his voice fades away eventually.
Eli grabs his backpack and looks away as the rest of the students mumble and mutter, their whispers heavy with curiosity. Eli glances around and his eyes fix on Clare, and there's surprise and annoyance in his expression.
The previous class erupts from the classroom, and Eli suddenly disappears. Clare feels light-headed with everything that has happened so far, but she can't wait to tell Jake and Alli about the fight that broke out before classes even started.
Clare walks into the classroom and takes her seat, realizing with a jolt that she's sitting next to Eli. He keeps wiping his bruised lip with the sleeve of his leather jacket, muttering to himself.
"Maybe you need to go to the nurse," suggests Clare quietly, and Eli gives her a cold side-glance. He doesn't say a word, but turns to look at the teacher instead. Fine, Clare was just trying to be nice, and maybe Eli deserved to get punched in the mouth.
Clare doesn't know why she's feeling so irritated with a complete stranger.
"I feel sorry for those of you who bought the textbook," announces the professor as she waves her hands around dramatically. "You won't need it."
The class groans and Clare stares at the book in front of her. Of course, this happens all the time. She buys an absurdly expensive book just to find out that she won't need it. Awesome.
"My name is Miss Dawes and you shall address me this way," the teacher continues, scribbling something on the board. "We're not friends, we're all grown ups, and I expect nothing but adult essays from all of you."
Clare shuffles uncomfortably on her seat, wondering what Miss Dawes means by "adult essays."
"She needs to get laid," someone mutters behind her, and Clare's cheeks redden at the comment.
Miss Dawes goes on and on about the future projects in her class, mentioning something about working with partners, and Clare can't help but glance at Eli again.
"Now, the project with a partner will have a word count of 30,000 or more," drawls Miss Dawes. "You have a semester to write it, so I don't expect anything less than that. But Mr. Goldsworthy, don't go over 100,000. I still have nightmares over the essay you wrote for my Composition II class. English majors, seriously."
Eli is smirking, and Clare wants to snort at his smugness. Some people in the class chuckle, and Goldsworthy looks pleased with himself before the bored expression takes over his face again.
"Now, the first book assigned to read in this class is Slapstick by Kurt Vonnegut," says Miss Dawes and Clare feels excited. She has actually read this book, and although it was a bit disturbing at times, she loved it.
"Science with incestuous undertones," drawls Eli, and the class stares at him. "Seems appropriate."
Miss Dawes glares at Eli a little, but a smile threatens to appear on her lips. "You will write a 500 word essay and…" Miss Dawes trails off, but Clare can't keep her eyes away from Eli, and this puzzles her.
xxxxxx
The class ends and the students try to hurry out of the classroom, and Clare finds herself bumping into Eli, who shoots an irritated look at her.
"Watch where you're going," he says hastily, walking away as fast as he can. Clare glares after him, already annoyed by his mere presence, but the sight of Jake waiting for her outside the classroom makes her forget about the entire incident.
"Hi, Ja-"
"Clare, oh, Clare, he is in your class!" says Jake excitedly.
"Huh?" asks Clare, confused. Students are bumping into them as they rush to their next lecture, and Jake grabs Clare hand and pulls her aside.
"Eli Goldsworthy is in your class," explains Jake in a low tone. "That is perfect!"
"How so?" asks Clare, raising an eyebrow. The last thing she wants to do is to talk about the pretentious idiot in her class.
"Remember the envelope I received this morning? With the hints and clues about Sadie's death?" chirps Jake, brushing his hair away from his forehead hastily.
"The one you were supposed to hand over to the police?" says Clare sternly, her hand on her hip. "Jake, this is no time to play detective, this is ser-"
"You need to get close to him," deadpans Jake, a broad smile on his lips. "His name was in that envelope, underneath the circle and the list with the weird words. He's the one who knows everything; it said so in the paper. I looked up his name and information and I've had a few classes with him before. I know that he only talks to a selective number of people. Maybe that's the secret society! I need you to become his friend."
"I will do just that," says Clare sardonically and she starts walking away. She has no time for this, she knows how Jake gets overtly excited every time he gets a good news story, how he wants to do everything at once. They've been friends for years, and Clare knows him perfectly well. She knows that the excitement will subside eventually.
Jake grabs her by the wrist gently and flashes a charming smile at her, and Clare feels her knees go weak.
"What am I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say 'hey, we should be best friends!'" mocks Clare. "He got into a fight before class and he's a jerk and-"
"He got into a fight?" blurts Jake. "With whom?"
"Sadie's boyfriend, Dave," says Clare, her voice whisper-like.
"See? It all makes sense! Please," pleads Jake, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "This is probably the biggest story I will ever write. Please… please…"
"Jake, I don't know," shrugs Clare, holding on to her book. "He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would like to be my friend."
"But you're the nicest, prettiest, funniest girl in the world," winks Jake, and Clare feels herself blushing. "Come on. Just… help me out. He's an English major, you're an English minor, and it's perfect! He won't talk to me because everybody knows I work for the paper. But you… Clare Edwards, you will get under his skin, I just know it."
Jake moves closer to her and Clare stops breathing for a second. This is the guy she's been crushing on for the past year, the guy who has been her friend since they were in kindergarten, the guy she would do anything for.
"Okay… I… I will try," says Clare hoarsely, and Jake hugs her.
"You're the best," says Jake as he kisses her on the forehead. "Thank you. Wait until I tell Holly J!" Jake lets go of her and smiles as he starts walking away, and Clare feels her heart beat erratically with every step he takes. He finally disappears from her view and she smiles at herself, feeling content.
She turns around and notices the elusive English major standing at the end of the hallway, talking to a girl who is wearing a funny hat. Eli looks up and his eyes lock with Clare's, giving away nothing. Eli blinks and his attention goes back to the dark-haired girl in front of him, and Clare wonders if Eli actually knows something about Sadie's death.
How difficult can it be to become Eli Goldsworthy's friend?