Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, or What Are You Looking For? by Sick Puppies, but I own a pair of beautiful purple and gray Vans.

Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit, you throw your arms up, you're so damn sick of it. What are you hurting for? What are you searching for? Love.

Clare

"Can anyone hear themselves speak?" I heard Adam yell. I laughed in the direction of his lanky figure in the dim lighting. The only real lighting in this whole place was the center of the dance floor, which was illuminated by strobe lights. But here in the back of the gymnasium by the creaky bleachers, it was only lighted by our colored glow sticks around our necks. Each of us got a specific color of our own: Adam got blue, Fiona got pink, Eli got red, and I got purple. We were the misfits of the dance. I lost Alli a little while ago, who I can only assume is in the direct center of the dance floor with Drew, grinding like every other couple in this dance.

Eli and I had become really close friends since when I met him after the whole egg yolk-purple-silly-string-and-water incident in the theatre. From day one, I knew there was something between Eli and I…but I couldn't quite understand what it was. It was something that clicked on in my brain that said "Hold onto this one, and don't let go." That thought alone scared me, because I had never met someone and instantly had a connection with them. It was like a fire lit inside me, and I was scared of the feelings I was getting. I was falling; fast at that, and I was terrified.

Whenever Eli was around, my heart started screaming. I had to admit that I was a little disappointed that he didn't ask me out that first day we spied on Imogen in his car. It's been almost two weeks and still nothing. Imogen seems to have the perfect life and it kills me that we haven't found anything to socially destroy her. But we keep looking. We keep following her and we keep watching her. I really hope she doesn't see Eli's noticeable car following her almost every day. Because then I would really be depressed.

"Now, pretty ladies and handsome gentlemen, I present to you the one slow song I will be playing this evening. Enjoy," the DJ's voice rang through the gym, a little muffled from the loud music and I had to pay attention to catch what he was saying to make sure I heard him correctly. I glanced over at Eli, who was talking with someone I didn't know; probably another junior. I was about to make my way over to him when suddenly –

"Clare! I need you!" Adam said, clinging to my arm and dragging me out onto the dance floor.

"Adam! What are you doing?!" I said confused.

"Fiona ditched me to hang with Holly J! I need to get her attention somehow!" He said.

"And making her mad at me by dancing with the guy she may like is the only way? How do you know she even likes you?" I answered.

"Just, please!" He begged.

I sighed, "Fine."

Adam put his hands on either side of my waist, and I put my hands on his shoulders. We didn't look into each other's eyes, and it grew increasingly awkward.

Half way through the song, he said, "Well, this is sufficiently awkward."

"Couldn't agree more." I said.

"No offence, but I could never date you. That would be even more awkward."

"You should be a fucking priest. Cause you're preaching to the choir here." I said sarcastically.

"Har har. Go find your Prince Charming before the song's over." Adam said.

"Thanks to you, it may be over before I find him, asshole," I said while walking away.

I ran around looking for Eli, and the song was ending and I started to panic. I finally spotted him and right as I made my way towards him, the song ended. I felt like I wanted to cry. I could have told Eli how I really felt, but I missed my chance.

Eli

Not only was I stupid for not asking Clare to homecoming as my date, I was even stupider for not asking her to dance. I was jumpy with anticipation because I was hoping that the DJ would play a few slow songs so I had a couple chances at asking Clare to dance. Not one song. That was one chance, and I blew it, once again.

Adam dragged her onto the dance floor. He has been pining after Fiona lately. He thinks that he has a chance with her. But honestly, I don't think Fiona sees him as anything but a friend. She seems like the type of girl who has a rich, perfect boyfriend back home in New York City just waiting for her to come home from lame-o public school in Canada.

I didn't wait to watch Clare finish the slow dance with Adam. I faded into the corner of the gymnasium in hopes that I would become invisible. I looked away from Clare, pinching the bridge of my nose, yelling at myself for being so stupid. My mind was worse than a jostled schizophrenic's mind on a bad day. Okay, bad metaphor, but still. I needed a release. My heart was pounding hard and I started to go into one of those bad places where I felt like I needed a beer, or two, or three, or four too many.

The slow song ended, and I turned around to see Clare looking at me with a hurt expression, stopped in the middle of the dance floor, walking away from Adam, and looking in my general direction. Our eyes connected, and I felt the sparks; the electricity; the nuclear fireworks erupting in my heart. Her eyes were a beautiful blue tonight, and the more I looked at her, the more I wanted her. She wore a sad smile, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to kiss that sad smile into a happy one. But I had already hurt her enough. I didn't want to be the reason that she was upset.

That night, I went to an after-party. The music was very loud, and there were many girls who had discarded their dresses a long time ago. The air smelled of marijuana and booze, along with the scent of many sweaty teenagers in a sea of mixed perfumes. I wrinkled my nose and found myself at the punch bowl. I grabbed a cup and filled it to the top, before chugging it down immediately to drink away my depression. The alcohol stung my throat on the way down – fire in its wake, burning all the way down to my stomach before dissolving into a dull warming sensation.

I was filling my second cup, when a very drunk girl with blonde hair came stumbling over. She was laughing manically and almost tipped the whole table as she ran into it. I jumped out of the way at the last minute. Filling a cup sloppily, she turned her bottle-blonde head towards me; her face covered with way too much foundation. "Oh my god, I am soooooooo sorry," she slurred. I shook my head, and she gave me the once over. I smirked to myself because I knew where this was going. I downed my second cup.

The world was foggy now, and the blonde was leading me up the stairs by my belt buckle. I didn't complain. She led me to an abandoned bedroom and pushed me up against the closed door. I didn't complain. She kissed me with way too much tongue and I could taste the foundation. I didn't complain.

We were both drunk, well, she was, and in need of a play toy.

I will spare you the details, but to use mediocre middle school terms, we did the dirty. It was quick, and afterwards, we parted like nothing ever happened. Honestly, I felt good. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster that only went up from there; an elevator that reached the sky and kept going.

It was a long lasting high, and I woke up the next morning in the same position as I was when you first met me. I stumbled home and came to an empty house. It was the usual; a horrible headache that lasted all day, but the only difference was, I felt even worse than I ever had in my entire life. My anchor let me sink. The alcohol didn't help me anymore. Because I found a new anchor:

It was Clare.

She was the only thing keeping me afloat now. If she let go, I will drown, and I will be lost in the depths of life forever.

I am really hoping that she will never let go.

End of Chapter