(no subject)
Off I go to college! But I have a fanfic for all of you to tide you over. :) Okay, so it's Degrassi and therefore not everyone can equally enjoy it. But read anyway?
Title: My Life in Four Walls
Fandoms: Degrassi
Summary: Sometimes the most dangerous words can be "I'll prove it," but they can also spark the most wonderful occurrences. [Eli/Clare, Misfits friendship, slight future fic, vague spoilers]
Author’s Notes: Keeping it brief -- this is to be set towards the middle/end of the second semester (aka, toward the end of season 10). We’re going into the future, people. Also, this is my first story with a BETA (and it’s helped), helloeinstein . Thank you so much, dear! Link to review at fanfiction.net is coming soon, if you prefer, but don't hesitate to leave a line here!
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It started out innocently enough, and that, of course was how it would finish.
Still, Clare could barely comprehend how she had agreed to let Eli come over to her house -- and actually come into her house, not stand outside and talk, not pick her up so they could drive somewhere to edit papers, not anything like that at all.
It started out innocently enough, with a few playful jokes about a poster in her locker (Robert Pattinson, because good girl she was, she could fully appreciate his acting skills - and gorgeous smile, hair, body, et cetera) and a question of if her room was covered in similar decoration.
“I can see it now,” he stated as they (Eli, Adam, and herself) walked out of the school. “The color of your walls are forever forgotten because pictures of half-naked vampires--”
“Eli!” Face red and hot, Clare cut him off before he could say anything else completely and totally indecent.
He glanced over at her, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh, his eyes sparkling while his mouth curved into a smirk. Adam, walking on Eli’s other side, wasn’t at all trying to conceal his laughter. Traitor, she thought, wondering if she could direct her thoughts right to his mind.
Because staying silent would mean he was right, Clare gathered up her voice and replied, “For your information, there’s one poster, nothing more. And the walls are beige.” How bland, she realized.
Eli studied her, and for a moment she thought he was going to let it drop. That was a very stupid moment, because his lips quirked and he stated, “Not buying it,” before continuing his walk.
While Clare enjoyed walking home with her two best friends at Degrassi (ever since Alli left, but she didn’t think about that), especially after Morty had decided to take a long trip to the shop, coughing and complaining of needing an oil change, there were some times when she wanted nothing more than to scream at both of them. But no, this required precision and planning and something foolproof. No sense in being childish about this.
Catching up with them, for she had, for a moment, stopped walking to weigh her situation, she proposed, “Well, how about I show you?”
Now it was Eli’s turn to be blindsided, because he turned his head, mouth open slightly in a way that made him resemble a fish. “Huh?”
“My room. You don’t believe me, so I’ll show you guys.” They were approaching her house. “Go change out of your uniforms, come back, and I’ll prove it.”
Clare seemed quite proud of this idea - it was the simple solution, for one, and it seemed to catch Eli by surprise. She looked at both of them. Adam was, in contrast, not really looking at her, but she could tell he was smiling, just a little. Not unlike Eli’s smirk, actually.
“Well? What do you say?” She pressed. “Afraid to take me up on it?”
Adam suddenly clapped Eli on the shoulder and said, “Just remembered, promised to help out Drew with some studying. You report back to me, okay?”
Now Eli’s gaze turned to Adam, and Clare could have sworn the two were having a whole conversation with their eyes. She was slightly in front of them now, so she could see Eli’s slight surprise, Adam’s insistent stare, and then Eli’s sudden realization. Then they both looked at her and suddenly Clare felt like she’d made a horrible mistake.
“Sure, Edwards. It’s a deal.”
That look, there was that look, and Adam was grinning.
“Well. Good then,” she replied, trying to keep her air of confidence and turning back around, continuing the rest of their walk in silence. When they reached her house, she said goodbye to the two, told Adam she’d see him tomorrow, and Eli to call her when he was on his way back.
The two boys walked off together and it was only when Clare was inside that she then realized what Eli Goldsworthy seeing her room would entail. Any one moment, any one slip up, could lead to him finding things -- embarrassing things. Old photos. Childhood treasures (guilty childhood treasures). Fortnight fanfiction she’d printed off to revise. Fortnight fanfiction she’d printed off to read. Anything.
And she realized she’d just given the boys enough potential ammunition to tease her until graduation.
So for that reason, Clare spent the next half hour hiding anything that was -- or could be -- embarrassing and hid it away in drawers. She closed up her laptop and slid it under the bed, mentally planning out how to steer Eli away from the computer so he had no chance to turn it on or look through her files.
Of course, she realized at minute thirty-one that not only would he have no chance to do such a thing, but he wouldn’t, as that would be a blatant invasion of her privacy. Eli may have been sneaky, but he wouldn’t go looking through her private things. It was, of course, after this, when she decided moving pictures to the drawers may have been a better use of her time, that the doorbell rang.
And as she peered out the door, spying Eli with his trademark black attire and signature smirk, she wondered if he’d planned this out from the start.
“Keeping me waiting, Edwards?” He asked when she opened the door and she considered closing it, just to spite him. Of course then he walked right in.
“No I’m not,” she replied, entirely too fast. An eyebrow raised in question, but she pretended not to see it. When he opened his mouth to say something (or ask something, maybe), she didn’t give him the chance, closing the door and grabbing his arm. “So, let’s go, better I prove you wrong sooner rather than later.”
She all but dragged him up the stairs and to her room (and he had a bemused but interested look on his face, though she didn’t know that), opening the door and stepping inside. Really, it was as she described -- simple. Beige-walled, one poster from the infamous vampire series (and just an enlarged book cover, even then it was small), a small bed, a night-stand overflowing with pictures and trinkets, a closet, a dresser, a desk, a rug (flower-print, a lot of flower-print). Eli looked like he was studying it, taking it all in -- and then Clare’s arm, still wrapped tightly around his, started to pull him out the open door.
“Okay, and you’ve seen it. I win, you lose, better call Adam--” But Eli just walked into it, turning to face her with a thinly-concealed smile.
“What’s the rush, Clare? Want me out of here that badly?” Her pulling was doing nothing, so she dropped his arm.
She responded, “I only thought you were going to- to go and talk to Adam right after this, hey, isn’t it supposed to be guy’s night?” That was a horrible segue and attempt at a cover up. Clare inwardly berated herself for not doing better.
“That,” Eli corrected, “is tomorrow. And Adam’s got to help Drew with studying, remember?” Of course she remembered. After she said it. Before she could try and think of anything else to get Eli out of her room, he pulled his backpack, which she just realized he’d brought with him, off his back and said, “And since we’ve got that assignment due Monday, I thought we could get a head-start. I mean, since we’re both here, after all.”
Oh, he’s good. Because Clare couldn’t think of a single thing that she would usually say against this, as she was always up for getting a head-start on homework. She’d applaud his genius later, when she wasn’t so busy wondering why she didn’t see this coming. “Well. Then we should go downstairs, shouldn’t we?”
But it seemed Eli had that figured out too, as he said, “The assignment’s supposed to be on something that shaped you growing up. No better place to work than your room.”
She realized he and Adam probably run through everything. The whole situation worked out in their favor entirely. From the moment she’d suggested visiting, she’d been trapped. With nothing more to say to avoid it, she grabbed her own bag and sat down on the rug, since the desk didn’t have enough room for two people and the bed was an automatic no. Rustling through papers to retrieve the rough draft she’d written, she noticed Eli hadn’t followed her lead. In fact, he was starting to walk past her, around her bed, and toward--
Clare leapt up and scrambled over to her nightstand, standing in front of it and, hands behind her back, snatching a familiar frame off it. A nervous smile on her face, she said, “Eli. What are you doing?”
Surprisingly, he seemed to have a confused face on. No, she wouldn’t buy that. “Moving to sit next to you,” he answered, an eyebrow raised. Oh dear. He hadn’t been trying to look at the picture on her nightstand? Was she overreacting? “Whatcha got there, Clare?”
Eli started to move a hand around to her back, so she took one hand to block him, walking backward quickly and turning so she was against the dresser instead, the framed photo firmly between her back and the furniture. “It’s nothing.”
She could tell he couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. “And that’s why you’re playing keep-away.”
“You’ll laugh,” she said, confirming his suspicions.
“Will not.” He almost sounded insulted. Almost, if she hadn’t been able to pick out that mock-surprise.
“Will too. Let’s just get to work.”
He studied her, peered at her, as if pondering, one side of his mouth pointed up in a slant, and she thought for a moment he was going to comply with her.
And the next moment, his lips were on hers, and she was so surprised that she opened her mouth and, well, there he was. The arm that previously had turned into her shield against his advance now went slack, as did the one that was behind her back, because really he was far too good at this and was it a crime if she got wrapped up in the moment? His left hand gently rested on her shoulder, and she was just about to reach up and place her own on his neck, give in completely to the moment when she felt his other hand on her right one, slipping something out of her fingers--
And just like that, it was over. He pulled back and she was leaning against the dresser, eyes opening (they’d closed a moment after he’d swooped in) and blinking rapidly. She caught, for a second, how he looked equally pleased, but then she realized that her right hand was empty, devoid of the photo she’d been hiding.
“Eli!” She shrieked as he turned around, his cheer taking on a much more accomplished appearance. “Stop doing that! And give that back!”
“Can’t help it if I know your weakness!” Oh, he was positively giddy. Clare tried now to reach around his back, to steal the photo away, but it was too late. Defeated, her shoulder slumped and she scratched at her wrist. Her teeth now sunk into her lip, gnawing nervously (and still feeling the after effects of that kiss) as she awaited a reaction.
She got it a moment later when Eli turned back and asked, “This you?”
Indeed it was, Clare from the start of freshman year, long and pony-tailed hair, glasses, Catholic School uniform, standing in stark comparison next to Darcy, senior, shoulder-length smooth, jewelry, colorful comfortable. They were direct opposites, and in that photo was dorky little Clare with her cool older sister.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, now twirling her purity ring around and around and around. She expected him to laugh or tease her or say something along that train of thought.
Instead, he only said, “It’s different. Much more used to you now.” He gestured to her hair, her eyes, everything. (And that was true, because the girl in the photo even gave off a different feel, one much more meek and almost awkward, even though her fiery spirit was there, buried beneath a stricter discipline, a more rigid look at life, the lack of real experience.)
Still, a small sheepish smile slipped on to her face. “Yeah, me too.”
Eli looked back at the photo again, tilting his head. “Looks old.”
Clare felt remarkably small when she corrected, “It was taken the start of freshman year.”
This elicited an eyebrow raise and a smile. “Really? Well, wow, Edwards. A lot can change in a year.”
Now instead of her purity ring, she was running a few fingers through the ends of her hair at a very fast rate. “Well, first year in public school, new things, new experiences, a need for a change, you know, that stuff--”
“You weren’t in public school before last year?”
Clare blinked. “No. I never...mentioned that?”
It was amazing just how little they knew about each other’s lives before this year, and Clare realized this when Eli shook his head.
With that, Clare went back over to her discarded bag on the rug and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. “I wanted to go to school with Darcy, and that would be the only chance I got. She helped me convince our parents, and I was enrolled in Degrassi.” She made a face. “Of course, then Darcy got involved in a program in Kenya, but it was too late to transfer out by then. ...And I’d already made a few friends.”
Eli listened quietly. He seemed quite enraptured when she spoke, but Clare had no idea why -- it wasn’t like she was sharing anything profound, after all. “And the uniform?” He asked. She knew what he meant; Degrassi hadn’t implemented uniforms until just earlier this year, and it was obvious the Clare Edwards in the photo wasn’t wearing a normal school outfit.
With a little smile, she replied, “I wanted to just go to school to learn. I didn’t really want to worry about what to wear every day. It was simple.”
An almost studying look on his face, Eli commented, “Glad you decided to mix it up a little. Catholic school girl isn’t bad or anything, but it’s not--”
“If you value our relationship you will stop that sentence right now,” Clare deadpanned, eyes narrowed.
He flashed a grin. She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, Clare,” he said, leaning back a little (almost against her bed, they were sitting right across from each other), “why’d you freak out when you thought I was gonna see this?” He waved the photo back and forth.
“I told you, I thought you’d laugh.” It seemed silly now.
“Why?” His question was so honest that she had to give one to match.
“Because that’s dorky school-Clare. The girl who cared too much about her grades and sang a hymn in the school cafeteria to try and prove she didn’t care what people thought about her.” (Eli’s eyebrows raised again, she made him do this a lot.) “When I think about how...different I’ve become,” (Confident. Stronger. More individual. Slightly less awkward.) “I don’t really like her as much. I thought you wouldn’t either.”
Looking from Clare to the photo and back again, Eli shook his head and said, “Well, she’s still Clare. I couldn’t tell any of that from just a picture, anyway. She looks a little cute, too,” he added. “Not as cute as a certain girl I know, but she’s hard to measure up to.”
Fighting back the smile on her face, she chided, “Don’t try and butter me up, Goldsworthy. I’m still mad at you for the way you got the picture.”
“No you’re not.”
No I’m not. But he didn’t have to know that. Pushing past that subject, she said, “So I guess you didn’t really want to stick around to work on English, huh?”
“I thought that was implied from the start,” he stated.
Now she mimicked his movements, leaning back on her hands. “Excuse me for thinking you’d finally started to show more interest to your schoolwork.”
“Ouch, Clare, calling me a slacker?” Eli put a hand to his chest in mock pain, wincing loudly. “You wound me. Forget who got an A on their last paper?”
Now the smile from before broke through. “Besides me?”
“Now who’s got the big ego?”
Now the smile was a grin. “Besides you?”
Eli smirked in reply. “You can’t use the same kind of retort twice in a row. It takes away from the first time.”
“I guess I should take notes from the master.” She was on her knees now, not leaning back. They were closer. A small silence, which surprised her. She’d expected him to capitalize on the fact that she’d just called him “the master,” but nothing.
When he did respond, it was like before, with no smirk. “Why’d you think I wanted to stay here, Clare?”
Again, she felt embarrassed by the thought of it now, since he hadn’t laughed at the picture. “Well... I thought you were going to look for things to tease me with,” she admitted. “Especially since you were going to ‘report’ back to Adam...”
Eli frowned. “That’s stupid, Clare. First, why would I want to tease you about your past? It made you who you are, if we’re judging by this English paper. And I like who you are.” More than embarrassed, Clare felt extremely dizzy and warm as she was sure her cheeks flushed red. It was a good kind of dizzy, though, because now her hands were in her lap, wrapped around each other while the little smile on her face threatened to expand. Of course, then a sparkle lit up Eli’s eyes and she could see where he was headed: “Second, I don’t need to use anything else to tease you. I’ve got enough material already.” But he was smiling too so it was impossible to do anything but chuckle and narrow her eyes playfully.
“Fine, then. My turn for a question. Why did you want to stay?”
“I wanted to learn more about you,” he said honestly.
That caught her by surprise. “...Huh?”
“Well, both me and Adam,” he amended. “Think about it, Clare. Besides what you’ve told us about your folks, we really don’t know much about Clare Edwards before last fall.” That was true. Adam and Eli both transferred into the school. “You’ve mentioned Darcy, and we’ve seen pictures, but even she’s not much of a person. With everything that’s happened, we just wanted to...get to know you more. Find out what makes Clare Edwards tick.”
It was an extremely flattering reason, she had to admit. She didn’t give the boys enough credit. A moment passed and she said, “The same could go for you. I don’t know all that much about Elijah Goldsworthy either before he ran over my glasses.”
“Stick with Eli,” he said first, grimacing. Then he continued, “We could fix that. And if Adam wants to share too, it can be a party.” Both knew that Adam was a little more hesitant about opening up for a good reason. Both respected that. “The only reason he didn’t come along was because he thought I could...persuade you better.” The smirk returned and his eyes drifted to her lips. She stuck out her tongue, causing him to say, “Hey, you never argued against that.”
Again, he was right. So again, she sidestepped. “You know, if we’d just waited until we had to work on each other’s papers, this whole thing could’ve been avoided.” She finally pulled her rough draft from her folder, which had been discarded on the floor for the entirety of the conversation, and held it up.
Indeed, in it was written quite a bit of personal information, information that she was almost nervous about sharing, information about her insecurities and always having to be the good child, especially after Darcy. Information about Darcy. But she remembered encouragements to take a risk, and the fact that no one would read this except for Ms. Dawes and, well, Eli, and that didn’t seem so scary.
“Yes, but that wouldn’t have been nearly half as fun.” He looked like a little kid when he said that, so innocent and happy, and it was moments like this when she could forget all their drama and history and the dark side inside of him that she really couldn’t change, that she had to live with, but they were getting slowly better every day, and getting through those things really made the moments like these, so innocent and happy, so absolutely special and unforgettable.
They ended up spending the rest of the day at her house (at least as late as he could stay, when she thought her parents were coming home he hurried out), reading through her draft -- because he didn’t have his yet, of course -- and rarely doing any work because Clare needed to clarify a few things every now and then. At the end, she promised to tell him all about Darcy, her early awkward days at Degrassi, the Shep, Alli and Johnny, KC, Jenna, and, after some prodding, yes, some of her vampire fiction (though of course she wouldn’t let him read any of it, and he wouldn’t hear a single word about her obsession with Declan, not at all).
With a goodbye kiss (short, chaste, unlike most of them, but that made it special and right), Eli was off, to “report to Adam,” as he’d said. She didn’t mind. The three of them had all met only several months earlier, back at the start of the school year, but they barely knew anything about each other. She wouldn’t have been able to get past this year’s trials -- and she wouldn’t be able to get past the coming trials -- without them, so her life was -- and should be -- an open book. To both of them.
The realization that this newfound agreement was a two-way (three-way?) street didn’t come until the following day before school, when Eli caught up with her in the hallway and fished something out of his pocket. A photograph, edges slightly crumpled, middle folded, but still good. A boy with shaggy brown hair looked back, black clothes but a white jacket, a Dead Hands t-shirt adorning his figure. He resembled Eli, but with a younger face. Something slightly lighter. Something softer. Still a darkness, but not as advanced. What clued her in was the little half-smile on his face, one that she’d come to know very intimately.
“Me in ninth,” he explained unnecessarily. “You’re not the only one who can go through a lot of changes.”
She snatched the picture from his hand to look at it more closely. He really didn’t look that different, except--
“You’re wearing color.” She stifled a laugh. Indeed, though she thought it was all black at first glance, she could see his shirt was the faintest shade of green.
When she looked up, his frowning face met hers. “I wear color now too,” he retorted. “Look at this.” He gestured to his red polo.
“Mm-hmm. That’s a uniform. You have to wear it.” She started walking to class, shutting her locker before she did. Eli trotted alongside her.
“What about that scarf, huh?”
“You mean the scarf I gave you?”
“Yeah, that’s color.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“What, why?”
“Because I gave it to you, you had to wear it.”
“But I liked wearing it!”
“Still doesn’t count.”
“That’s not fair-- Adam! Tell Clare I wear color sometimes.”
“Dude, I would, but I’m against lying.”
“Oh, you traitor.”
“Thank you, Adam.”
“It’s not being a traitor, it’s following rule number one.”
“I thought the Bro Code was rule number one.”
“Pshaw, rule number one is ‘Always Side With Clare or She’ll Break Your Comics.’”
And when they all met up the following day, on the weekend, Eli would have another copy of the photo he gave Clare, and Clare would have two copies of a picture of herself (just herself) from her first day at Degrassi, and Adam would have two copies of a photo as well, and they would all exchange. A moment captured in time, traded away. A window to the past, and by extension, to the future.
Title: My Life in Four Walls
Fandoms: Degrassi
Summary: Sometimes the most dangerous words can be "I'll prove it," but they can also spark the most wonderful occurrences. [Eli/Clare, Misfits friendship, slight future fic, vague spoilers]
Author’s Notes: Keeping it brief -- this is to be set towards the middle/end of the second semester (aka, toward the end of season 10). We’re going into the future, people. Also, this is my first story with a BETA (and it’s helped), helloeinstein . Thank you so much, dear! Link to review at fanfiction.net is coming soon, if you prefer, but don't hesitate to leave a line here!
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It started out innocently enough, and that, of course was how it would finish.
Still, Clare could barely comprehend how she had agreed to let Eli come over to her house -- and actually come into her house, not stand outside and talk, not pick her up so they could drive somewhere to edit papers, not anything like that at all.
It started out innocently enough, with a few playful jokes about a poster in her locker (Robert Pattinson, because good girl she was, she could fully appreciate his acting skills - and gorgeous smile, hair, body, et cetera) and a question of if her room was covered in similar decoration.
“I can see it now,” he stated as they (Eli, Adam, and herself) walked out of the school. “The color of your walls are forever forgotten because pictures of half-naked vampires--”
“Eli!” Face red and hot, Clare cut him off before he could say anything else completely and totally indecent.
He glanced over at her, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh, his eyes sparkling while his mouth curved into a smirk. Adam, walking on Eli’s other side, wasn’t at all trying to conceal his laughter. Traitor, she thought, wondering if she could direct her thoughts right to his mind.
Because staying silent would mean he was right, Clare gathered up her voice and replied, “For your information, there’s one poster, nothing more. And the walls are beige.” How bland, she realized.
Eli studied her, and for a moment she thought he was going to let it drop. That was a very stupid moment, because his lips quirked and he stated, “Not buying it,” before continuing his walk.
While Clare enjoyed walking home with her two best friends at Degrassi (ever since Alli left, but she didn’t think about that), especially after Morty had decided to take a long trip to the shop, coughing and complaining of needing an oil change, there were some times when she wanted nothing more than to scream at both of them. But no, this required precision and planning and something foolproof. No sense in being childish about this.
Catching up with them, for she had, for a moment, stopped walking to weigh her situation, she proposed, “Well, how about I show you?”
Now it was Eli’s turn to be blindsided, because he turned his head, mouth open slightly in a way that made him resemble a fish. “Huh?”
“My room. You don’t believe me, so I’ll show you guys.” They were approaching her house. “Go change out of your uniforms, come back, and I’ll prove it.”
Clare seemed quite proud of this idea - it was the simple solution, for one, and it seemed to catch Eli by surprise. She looked at both of them. Adam was, in contrast, not really looking at her, but she could tell he was smiling, just a little. Not unlike Eli’s smirk, actually.
“Well? What do you say?” She pressed. “Afraid to take me up on it?”
Adam suddenly clapped Eli on the shoulder and said, “Just remembered, promised to help out Drew with some studying. You report back to me, okay?”
Now Eli’s gaze turned to Adam, and Clare could have sworn the two were having a whole conversation with their eyes. She was slightly in front of them now, so she could see Eli’s slight surprise, Adam’s insistent stare, and then Eli’s sudden realization. Then they both looked at her and suddenly Clare felt like she’d made a horrible mistake.
“Sure, Edwards. It’s a deal.”
That look, there was that look, and Adam was grinning.
“Well. Good then,” she replied, trying to keep her air of confidence and turning back around, continuing the rest of their walk in silence. When they reached her house, she said goodbye to the two, told Adam she’d see him tomorrow, and Eli to call her when he was on his way back.
The two boys walked off together and it was only when Clare was inside that she then realized what Eli Goldsworthy seeing her room would entail. Any one moment, any one slip up, could lead to him finding things -- embarrassing things. Old photos. Childhood treasures (guilty childhood treasures). Fortnight fanfiction she’d printed off to revise. Fortnight fanfiction she’d printed off to read. Anything.
And she realized she’d just given the boys enough potential ammunition to tease her until graduation.
So for that reason, Clare spent the next half hour hiding anything that was -- or could be -- embarrassing and hid it away in drawers. She closed up her laptop and slid it under the bed, mentally planning out how to steer Eli away from the computer so he had no chance to turn it on or look through her files.
Of course, she realized at minute thirty-one that not only would he have no chance to do such a thing, but he wouldn’t, as that would be a blatant invasion of her privacy. Eli may have been sneaky, but he wouldn’t go looking through her private things. It was, of course, after this, when she decided moving pictures to the drawers may have been a better use of her time, that the doorbell rang.
And as she peered out the door, spying Eli with his trademark black attire and signature smirk, she wondered if he’d planned this out from the start.
“Keeping me waiting, Edwards?” He asked when she opened the door and she considered closing it, just to spite him. Of course then he walked right in.
“No I’m not,” she replied, entirely too fast. An eyebrow raised in question, but she pretended not to see it. When he opened his mouth to say something (or ask something, maybe), she didn’t give him the chance, closing the door and grabbing his arm. “So, let’s go, better I prove you wrong sooner rather than later.”
She all but dragged him up the stairs and to her room (and he had a bemused but interested look on his face, though she didn’t know that), opening the door and stepping inside. Really, it was as she described -- simple. Beige-walled, one poster from the infamous vampire series (and just an enlarged book cover, even then it was small), a small bed, a night-stand overflowing with pictures and trinkets, a closet, a dresser, a desk, a rug (flower-print, a lot of flower-print). Eli looked like he was studying it, taking it all in -- and then Clare’s arm, still wrapped tightly around his, started to pull him out the open door.
“Okay, and you’ve seen it. I win, you lose, better call Adam--” But Eli just walked into it, turning to face her with a thinly-concealed smile.
“What’s the rush, Clare? Want me out of here that badly?” Her pulling was doing nothing, so she dropped his arm.
She responded, “I only thought you were going to- to go and talk to Adam right after this, hey, isn’t it supposed to be guy’s night?” That was a horrible segue and attempt at a cover up. Clare inwardly berated herself for not doing better.
“That,” Eli corrected, “is tomorrow. And Adam’s got to help Drew with studying, remember?” Of course she remembered. After she said it. Before she could try and think of anything else to get Eli out of her room, he pulled his backpack, which she just realized he’d brought with him, off his back and said, “And since we’ve got that assignment due Monday, I thought we could get a head-start. I mean, since we’re both here, after all.”
Oh, he’s good. Because Clare couldn’t think of a single thing that she would usually say against this, as she was always up for getting a head-start on homework. She’d applaud his genius later, when she wasn’t so busy wondering why she didn’t see this coming. “Well. Then we should go downstairs, shouldn’t we?”
But it seemed Eli had that figured out too, as he said, “The assignment’s supposed to be on something that shaped you growing up. No better place to work than your room.”
She realized he and Adam probably run through everything. The whole situation worked out in their favor entirely. From the moment she’d suggested visiting, she’d been trapped. With nothing more to say to avoid it, she grabbed her own bag and sat down on the rug, since the desk didn’t have enough room for two people and the bed was an automatic no. Rustling through papers to retrieve the rough draft she’d written, she noticed Eli hadn’t followed her lead. In fact, he was starting to walk past her, around her bed, and toward--
Clare leapt up and scrambled over to her nightstand, standing in front of it and, hands behind her back, snatching a familiar frame off it. A nervous smile on her face, she said, “Eli. What are you doing?”
Surprisingly, he seemed to have a confused face on. No, she wouldn’t buy that. “Moving to sit next to you,” he answered, an eyebrow raised. Oh dear. He hadn’t been trying to look at the picture on her nightstand? Was she overreacting? “Whatcha got there, Clare?”
Eli started to move a hand around to her back, so she took one hand to block him, walking backward quickly and turning so she was against the dresser instead, the framed photo firmly between her back and the furniture. “It’s nothing.”
She could tell he couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. “And that’s why you’re playing keep-away.”
“You’ll laugh,” she said, confirming his suspicions.
“Will not.” He almost sounded insulted. Almost, if she hadn’t been able to pick out that mock-surprise.
“Will too. Let’s just get to work.”
He studied her, peered at her, as if pondering, one side of his mouth pointed up in a slant, and she thought for a moment he was going to comply with her.
And the next moment, his lips were on hers, and she was so surprised that she opened her mouth and, well, there he was. The arm that previously had turned into her shield against his advance now went slack, as did the one that was behind her back, because really he was far too good at this and was it a crime if she got wrapped up in the moment? His left hand gently rested on her shoulder, and she was just about to reach up and place her own on his neck, give in completely to the moment when she felt his other hand on her right one, slipping something out of her fingers--
And just like that, it was over. He pulled back and she was leaning against the dresser, eyes opening (they’d closed a moment after he’d swooped in) and blinking rapidly. She caught, for a second, how he looked equally pleased, but then she realized that her right hand was empty, devoid of the photo she’d been hiding.
“Eli!” She shrieked as he turned around, his cheer taking on a much more accomplished appearance. “Stop doing that! And give that back!”
“Can’t help it if I know your weakness!” Oh, he was positively giddy. Clare tried now to reach around his back, to steal the photo away, but it was too late. Defeated, her shoulder slumped and she scratched at her wrist. Her teeth now sunk into her lip, gnawing nervously (and still feeling the after effects of that kiss) as she awaited a reaction.
She got it a moment later when Eli turned back and asked, “This you?”
Indeed it was, Clare from the start of freshman year, long and pony-tailed hair, glasses, Catholic School uniform, standing in stark comparison next to Darcy, senior, shoulder-length smooth, jewelry, colorful comfortable. They were direct opposites, and in that photo was dorky little Clare with her cool older sister.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, now twirling her purity ring around and around and around. She expected him to laugh or tease her or say something along that train of thought.
Instead, he only said, “It’s different. Much more used to you now.” He gestured to her hair, her eyes, everything. (And that was true, because the girl in the photo even gave off a different feel, one much more meek and almost awkward, even though her fiery spirit was there, buried beneath a stricter discipline, a more rigid look at life, the lack of real experience.)
Still, a small sheepish smile slipped on to her face. “Yeah, me too.”
Eli looked back at the photo again, tilting his head. “Looks old.”
Clare felt remarkably small when she corrected, “It was taken the start of freshman year.”
This elicited an eyebrow raise and a smile. “Really? Well, wow, Edwards. A lot can change in a year.”
Now instead of her purity ring, she was running a few fingers through the ends of her hair at a very fast rate. “Well, first year in public school, new things, new experiences, a need for a change, you know, that stuff--”
“You weren’t in public school before last year?”
Clare blinked. “No. I never...mentioned that?”
It was amazing just how little they knew about each other’s lives before this year, and Clare realized this when Eli shook his head.
With that, Clare went back over to her discarded bag on the rug and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. “I wanted to go to school with Darcy, and that would be the only chance I got. She helped me convince our parents, and I was enrolled in Degrassi.” She made a face. “Of course, then Darcy got involved in a program in Kenya, but it was too late to transfer out by then. ...And I’d already made a few friends.”
Eli listened quietly. He seemed quite enraptured when she spoke, but Clare had no idea why -- it wasn’t like she was sharing anything profound, after all. “And the uniform?” He asked. She knew what he meant; Degrassi hadn’t implemented uniforms until just earlier this year, and it was obvious the Clare Edwards in the photo wasn’t wearing a normal school outfit.
With a little smile, she replied, “I wanted to just go to school to learn. I didn’t really want to worry about what to wear every day. It was simple.”
An almost studying look on his face, Eli commented, “Glad you decided to mix it up a little. Catholic school girl isn’t bad or anything, but it’s not--”
“If you value our relationship you will stop that sentence right now,” Clare deadpanned, eyes narrowed.
He flashed a grin. She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, Clare,” he said, leaning back a little (almost against her bed, they were sitting right across from each other), “why’d you freak out when you thought I was gonna see this?” He waved the photo back and forth.
“I told you, I thought you’d laugh.” It seemed silly now.
“Why?” His question was so honest that she had to give one to match.
“Because that’s dorky school-Clare. The girl who cared too much about her grades and sang a hymn in the school cafeteria to try and prove she didn’t care what people thought about her.” (Eli’s eyebrows raised again, she made him do this a lot.) “When I think about how...different I’ve become,” (Confident. Stronger. More individual. Slightly less awkward.) “I don’t really like her as much. I thought you wouldn’t either.”
Looking from Clare to the photo and back again, Eli shook his head and said, “Well, she’s still Clare. I couldn’t tell any of that from just a picture, anyway. She looks a little cute, too,” he added. “Not as cute as a certain girl I know, but she’s hard to measure up to.”
Fighting back the smile on her face, she chided, “Don’t try and butter me up, Goldsworthy. I’m still mad at you for the way you got the picture.”
“No you’re not.”
No I’m not. But he didn’t have to know that. Pushing past that subject, she said, “So I guess you didn’t really want to stick around to work on English, huh?”
“I thought that was implied from the start,” he stated.
Now she mimicked his movements, leaning back on her hands. “Excuse me for thinking you’d finally started to show more interest to your schoolwork.”
“Ouch, Clare, calling me a slacker?” Eli put a hand to his chest in mock pain, wincing loudly. “You wound me. Forget who got an A on their last paper?”
Now the smile from before broke through. “Besides me?”
“Now who’s got the big ego?”
Now the smile was a grin. “Besides you?”
Eli smirked in reply. “You can’t use the same kind of retort twice in a row. It takes away from the first time.”
“I guess I should take notes from the master.” She was on her knees now, not leaning back. They were closer. A small silence, which surprised her. She’d expected him to capitalize on the fact that she’d just called him “the master,” but nothing.
When he did respond, it was like before, with no smirk. “Why’d you think I wanted to stay here, Clare?”
Again, she felt embarrassed by the thought of it now, since he hadn’t laughed at the picture. “Well... I thought you were going to look for things to tease me with,” she admitted. “Especially since you were going to ‘report’ back to Adam...”
Eli frowned. “That’s stupid, Clare. First, why would I want to tease you about your past? It made you who you are, if we’re judging by this English paper. And I like who you are.” More than embarrassed, Clare felt extremely dizzy and warm as she was sure her cheeks flushed red. It was a good kind of dizzy, though, because now her hands were in her lap, wrapped around each other while the little smile on her face threatened to expand. Of course, then a sparkle lit up Eli’s eyes and she could see where he was headed: “Second, I don’t need to use anything else to tease you. I’ve got enough material already.” But he was smiling too so it was impossible to do anything but chuckle and narrow her eyes playfully.
“Fine, then. My turn for a question. Why did you want to stay?”
“I wanted to learn more about you,” he said honestly.
That caught her by surprise. “...Huh?”
“Well, both me and Adam,” he amended. “Think about it, Clare. Besides what you’ve told us about your folks, we really don’t know much about Clare Edwards before last fall.” That was true. Adam and Eli both transferred into the school. “You’ve mentioned Darcy, and we’ve seen pictures, but even she’s not much of a person. With everything that’s happened, we just wanted to...get to know you more. Find out what makes Clare Edwards tick.”
It was an extremely flattering reason, she had to admit. She didn’t give the boys enough credit. A moment passed and she said, “The same could go for you. I don’t know all that much about Elijah Goldsworthy either before he ran over my glasses.”
“Stick with Eli,” he said first, grimacing. Then he continued, “We could fix that. And if Adam wants to share too, it can be a party.” Both knew that Adam was a little more hesitant about opening up for a good reason. Both respected that. “The only reason he didn’t come along was because he thought I could...persuade you better.” The smirk returned and his eyes drifted to her lips. She stuck out her tongue, causing him to say, “Hey, you never argued against that.”
Again, he was right. So again, she sidestepped. “You know, if we’d just waited until we had to work on each other’s papers, this whole thing could’ve been avoided.” She finally pulled her rough draft from her folder, which had been discarded on the floor for the entirety of the conversation, and held it up.
Indeed, in it was written quite a bit of personal information, information that she was almost nervous about sharing, information about her insecurities and always having to be the good child, especially after Darcy. Information about Darcy. But she remembered encouragements to take a risk, and the fact that no one would read this except for Ms. Dawes and, well, Eli, and that didn’t seem so scary.
“Yes, but that wouldn’t have been nearly half as fun.” He looked like a little kid when he said that, so innocent and happy, and it was moments like this when she could forget all their drama and history and the dark side inside of him that she really couldn’t change, that she had to live with, but they were getting slowly better every day, and getting through those things really made the moments like these, so innocent and happy, so absolutely special and unforgettable.
They ended up spending the rest of the day at her house (at least as late as he could stay, when she thought her parents were coming home he hurried out), reading through her draft -- because he didn’t have his yet, of course -- and rarely doing any work because Clare needed to clarify a few things every now and then. At the end, she promised to tell him all about Darcy, her early awkward days at Degrassi, the Shep, Alli and Johnny, KC, Jenna, and, after some prodding, yes, some of her vampire fiction (though of course she wouldn’t let him read any of it, and he wouldn’t hear a single word about her obsession with Declan, not at all).
With a goodbye kiss (short, chaste, unlike most of them, but that made it special and right), Eli was off, to “report to Adam,” as he’d said. She didn’t mind. The three of them had all met only several months earlier, back at the start of the school year, but they barely knew anything about each other. She wouldn’t have been able to get past this year’s trials -- and she wouldn’t be able to get past the coming trials -- without them, so her life was -- and should be -- an open book. To both of them.
The realization that this newfound agreement was a two-way (three-way?) street didn’t come until the following day before school, when Eli caught up with her in the hallway and fished something out of his pocket. A photograph, edges slightly crumpled, middle folded, but still good. A boy with shaggy brown hair looked back, black clothes but a white jacket, a Dead Hands t-shirt adorning his figure. He resembled Eli, but with a younger face. Something slightly lighter. Something softer. Still a darkness, but not as advanced. What clued her in was the little half-smile on his face, one that she’d come to know very intimately.
“Me in ninth,” he explained unnecessarily. “You’re not the only one who can go through a lot of changes.”
She snatched the picture from his hand to look at it more closely. He really didn’t look that different, except--
“You’re wearing color.” She stifled a laugh. Indeed, though she thought it was all black at first glance, she could see his shirt was the faintest shade of green.
When she looked up, his frowning face met hers. “I wear color now too,” he retorted. “Look at this.” He gestured to his red polo.
“Mm-hmm. That’s a uniform. You have to wear it.” She started walking to class, shutting her locker before she did. Eli trotted alongside her.
“What about that scarf, huh?”
“You mean the scarf I gave you?”
“Yeah, that’s color.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“What, why?”
“Because I gave it to you, you had to wear it.”
“But I liked wearing it!”
“Still doesn’t count.”
“That’s not fair-- Adam! Tell Clare I wear color sometimes.”
“Dude, I would, but I’m against lying.”
“Oh, you traitor.”
“Thank you, Adam.”
“It’s not being a traitor, it’s following rule number one.”
“I thought the Bro Code was rule number one.”
“Pshaw, rule number one is ‘Always Side With Clare or She’ll Break Your Comics.’”
And when they all met up the following day, on the weekend, Eli would have another copy of the photo he gave Clare, and Clare would have two copies of a picture of herself (just herself) from her first day at Degrassi, and Adam would have two copies of a photo as well, and they would all exchange. A moment captured in time, traded away. A window to the past, and by extension, to the future.