<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5029317903400403324</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:17:19.734-07:00</updated><category term='snake/wheels'/><category term='snake/emma'/><category term='snake/darcy'/><category term='steph/liz'/><category term='degrassi: the next generation'/><category term='anti-snake/spike'/><category term='melanie/kathleen'/><category term='degrassi junior high'/><category term='degrassi high'/><title type='text'>Objects and Dramatics - My Fanfiction</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06307123236346081644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5029317903400403324.post-1131188818647566860</id><published>2008-12-19T04:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T04:28:55.682-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snake/wheels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='degrassi: the next generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snake/emma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snake/darcy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anti-snake/spike'/><title type='text'>PG-13 - Coloured Lines - Degrassi: The Next Generation - Snake/Darcy, Snake/Emma, Snake/Wheels, Anti-Snake/Spike</title><content type='html'>   	&lt;/title&gt; 	&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.0  (Linux)"&gt; 	&lt;meta name="AUTHOR" content="Emma Smith"&gt; 	&lt;meta name="CREATED" content="20081218;17330100"&gt; 	&lt;meta name="CHANGEDBY" content="Emma Smith"&gt; 	&lt;meta name="CHANGED" content="20081219;23092500"&gt; 	&lt;style&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { size: 8.5in 11in; margin: 0.79in } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman,serif;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: bold;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Coloured Lines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;RED . Blood . Anger . Wrath . Passion . RED&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He knows why she's doing this. Darcy Edwards is broken beyond belief, looking for the person she can turn to – him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's fairly sure she has some genuine feelings for him, but that's not why she's really acting like this, it merely helps. If the normal Darcy Edwards fell for her teacher, she would keep it covered up and he'd never be any the wiser, but he is not dealing with the normal Darcy Edwards. He hasn't been for a long time, and the new Darcy Edwards is many things; crazy, haunted, fragile, and above all, broken. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He feels things for her too, to understate. He's growing obsessed with the girl and he knows it, he's been brought back to Earth from some daydream about god knows how many times, and he wants to kill himself over it. Sometimes he gets so caught up with self-hatred he smashes his hand against something just to see himself bleed and feel the pain – he's mad at himself. She is a 17-year-old rape victim who's barely sane and you are meant to be teaching her, you &lt;i&gt;can't&lt;/i&gt; fall for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But he can not stop his passion for that girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(220, 35, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(&lt;i&gt;He crossed a line, he knows that all too well)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0in 0in 0.03in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;YELLOW . Sunshine . Childish . Greed . Joy . YELLOW&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There are people you are not meant to fall for and your teenage step-daughter? Is one of those people. He's been close to her and so often she just calls him 'Dad' and that makes it so much worse. He's meant to be her father (who he &lt;i&gt;knew&lt;/i&gt; and if Shane found out what he's thinking and could understand, Shane would kill him) and he's not doing it right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She glows in sunlight. It sounds stupid but she does, she truly glows. Not that he'll admit it to himself. He can't face up to what he's feeling, so he's just being parental, if he's looking for her attention a lot, he doesn't want her to think about him more, he's just trying to take an interest in her. If he doesn't like her boyfriends, he isn't trying to keep her for himself, he's just trying to protect her. If the things she does blow him away, he's not infatuated, he's just proud of her. Etcetera, etcetera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It childish to not face up to how he feels about her, but he wasn't ever very good at the whole morality thing. Things don't get better over time, and Darcy Edwards is a distraction that's barely better than what he was distracted from in the first place. He recalls his first crush, &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; a younger girl, and all the teasing he got... If only they knew. Sometimes he wonders whatever happened to Melanie, but he never tries to find her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's fairly happy in his denial. He doesn't have to face what he's feeling for ages, even when he finds himself alone in the house with her – it's hard to keep control, but his denial remains intact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's only when she walks into college and a new life, that the facade slips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(179, 179, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(draw the line again, don't want to have crossed it)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0in 0in 0.03in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;GREEN . Cats eyes . Liar . Envy . Safety . GREEN&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's known her since he was 13, the nice girl with crazy hair that managed to get pregnant at age 14. but he knows her better now, and he loves her. He's sure he does. He's going to all these lengths, trying to keep in her daughter's good graces, because he loves this woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's only takes a few months for him to decide he wants to marry her. Emma's now okay with it and he's glad, and the wedding it planned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But he wonders if he really does love her. He has this tendency of falling for the worst person he could possibly choose to fall for, and maybe he's just running away from that and wanting to be with someone safe and normal –  But he just shakes his head. He wouldn't marry a woman he didn't love. He's smarter than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, she has some flaws. Not telling him about the pregnancy was bad, planning on having an abortion without telling him was worse – it makes him so thankful for Emma (just thankful), but everyone has problems. He's never been perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The night of their wedding, he sees a cat staring at him with eyes of accusation. &lt;i&gt;Liar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 174, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(No-where near the line, but just as messed up)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); border-width: medium medium 1px; padding: 0in 0in 0.03in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;BLUE . Tears . Sadness . Sloth . Calm . BLUE&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's scared. No-one seems to understand just how terrified he really is, how could they? Most of the people he's known haven't had cancer, haven't wondered if they'd live to their next birthday... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He hates chemo. He's nauseous and tired, he sometimes the cancer would just kill him already. He's sick of fighting and trying to stay strong; has he ever really been strong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes he cries over what's going on. He knows it won't help anything, but he can't help it. He's depressed and could be dying and he wants it all to go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;People try to cheer him up, drag him out to go bowling. Normally, Snake liked bowling. And was good at it. But when you could die, bowling really is not what you feel like. But he gets dragged out to the bowling alley and knocks over pins and wants to die anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then, things change. He has to blink, check again, because &lt;i&gt;he's&lt;/i&gt; there. He hasn't talked to Wheels for 12 years... Wheels was something he didn't need back. Even when dying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But like always, Snake can't keep himself from Wheels, who keeps talking and still cares about him... and Snake realizes. He could be dying, Wheels is there, and honestly who cares what he feels anymore? He spent most of his teenagerhood alternately running away from and chasing after Wheels – he does not care anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's still scared. But he tells Wheels how scared he is and there are smiles and laughs and bowling and suddenly Snake finds himself &lt;i&gt;happy&lt;/i&gt; – He doesn't want to stop feeling happy, so screw whatever has affected him all these years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There are more smiles and laughs and Wheels puts an arm around him and asks if he's okay. And he is. And he stops being scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 71, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(The first line you crossed is the one that matters.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5029317903400403324-1131188818647566860?l=objectsdramatics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/feeds/1131188818647566860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5029317903400403324&amp;postID=1131188818647566860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/1131188818647566860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/1131188818647566860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/2008/12/pg-13-coloured-lines-degrassi-next.html' title='PG-13 - Coloured Lines - Degrassi: The Next Generation - Snake/Darcy, Snake/Emma, Snake/Wheels, Anti-Snake/Spike'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06307123236346081644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5029317903400403324.post-6071897470931635357</id><published>2008-12-04T02:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T03:41:43.493-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='degrassi junior high'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='steph/liz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='degrassi high'/><title type='text'>PG 13 - Trouble - Degrassi Junior High/Degrassi High - Steph/Liz</title><content type='html'>Stephanie Kaye charged up to the office desk, “Doris, I need to make an announcement,” she said to the secretary, who dismissed her with a wave of the hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?” Doris asked, indicating to the right of who she was talking to... and then Steph saw her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was easily the most amazing looking girl Steph had ever seen. Maybe not the &lt;i&gt;prettiest&lt;/i&gt; per se, but she had an intense, vicious look in her eye, accentuated by dark eye make-up and red lipstick; she was beautiful in a dangerous way. Her red and white tank tops covered up her torso, but revealed her pale, creamy skin on the arms and neck... Steph couldn't look away. She kept looking up and down at this new girl, and she had a &lt;i&gt;very &lt;/i&gt; good figure. In Steph's opinion anyway. She simply could not look away from this girl, she just kept looking up and down, up and down... No wonder Doris was paying attention to her, not Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph heard the door of the principal's office creak open, and tore her eyes away from Liz, embarrassed. What had she been &lt;i&gt;doing&lt;/i&gt;? She saw Joey Jeremiah leave the principal's office, muttering under his breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Joey!" Doris cried, commanding Steph's attention along with everyone else's. “This is Liz O'Rourke, she's a new student to the school. I was wondering if you would mind showing her around for a couple of days?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey stared at Liz, obviously finding her appearance as captivating as Steph did... who found herself having pangs of anger as Joey smiled. “Joey Jeremiah, chairman of the welcoming committee. At your service,” he said, making Liz grin, which made Steph feel an overwhelming urge to reach out and strangle him. Why did &lt;i&gt;Joey&lt;/i&gt; get to show Luz around? Steph had seen Liz first, hadn't she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey and Liz left the room, and Steph stared after Liz... Urgh, thanks a fucking lot Joey! Steph a surprised even herself with her jealousy, but she couldn't help it. Her stomach was a trainwreck, and she &lt;i&gt;help&lt;/i&gt; but stare at Liz... &lt;i&gt;Shit.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ahem?” coughed Doris, turning Steph's attention back to why she came there in the first place. “Oh. Um, right. That announcement,” she spluttered out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made her announcement and went on her way to the bathroom to change into her school clothes... Simon was &lt;i&gt;going&lt;/i&gt; to notice her. He was &lt;i&gt;going &lt;/i&gt;to chose her over Alexa. It would happen. Stephanie Kaye gets what she wants, with the exception of a stable home life, the last boy she liked, the self confidence to act like herself and still think she would be liked... the list went on. Honestly, despite what you would say, Stephanie Kaye never really got what she wanted. But she was &lt;i&gt;going&lt;/i&gt; to get Simon Dexter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She entered the bathroom, where Spike was examining herself in the mirror. “Hey Spike,” she greeted. “What are you doing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I'm getting fat,” Spike replied. Steph blinked at Spike a few times. She wasn't really showing yet, what was she talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can't see it.” Steph said as she unbuttoned her dorky blouse, revealing the tight blue strapless top underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can,” Spike said as Steph shrugged and pulled down her blue skirt, revealing her tight black pants. “I thought you weren't going to dress like that anymore?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph smirked. “I'm going to make Simon notice me if it kills me,” this hyperbolic statement was interrupted by the opening a cubicle, and out walked Liz O'Rourke, immediately drawing all Steph's attention. Liz walked over to the sinks and briskly washed her hands, God, she was so... beautiful. Angry-looking, but so pretty it just made Steph...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liz went to open the bathroom door, and Steph screamed at her in her head &lt;i&gt;No! Stay!&lt;/i&gt; “I love your hair!” Steph said nonsensically. Anything to make her stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph looked at Liz some more. &lt;i&gt;Why &lt;/i&gt;did she have to wear the dipping tank-tops, those jeans that showed half her leg? She was driving Steph crazy! At she certainly wasn't helping with all those rumours that she'd only moved her because her sexual behaviour had gotten too well known throughout her last school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You must tell me who does it,” Steph said. Yeah, that made sense. Those rumours must have come from somewhere, and you only had to &lt;i&gt;look&lt;/i&gt; at the way she dressed... Steph raised a hand to about where her heart was while she said that, &lt;i&gt;knowing &lt;/i&gt;she was drawing attention to just below, and... she &lt;i&gt;wanted&lt;/i&gt; Liz looking there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A look of anger crossed Liz's face, and for a second, Steph was terrified she had figured out what Liz was thinking about her. “At least I don't get changed in the bathroom so mommy doesn't find out about how I dress at school.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, no, she was only reacting to Steph's double entendre. “Oh, ha ha, good comeback,” was what Steph called out, but... it actually kind of hurt... She wanted Liz to like her, even if she was doing nothing to deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The sleaze,” Steph bitched to Spike. “I bet she does it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Steph actually thought. Spike. The baby. Shane. Lucy's party. Stupid thing to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I, I mean, not like you,” she immediately tried to backtrack. “You made a mistake,” she said, not sure if she was actually making things any better. The look on Spike's face certainly wouldn't say so, she just kept looking angrier and angrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why is it that whenever anyone different shows up, people have to say things about them?” Spike asked and began to walk out of the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I heard something happened at her old school,” Steph said, not really wanting Spike to be mad at her, but with no idea how to fix things. So just voicing all those rumours was good enough. “To do with sex. That's why she moved here,” she said, and in her head, it all made sense. Liz was... she didn't know. “If you ask me, she dresses very... provocative,” Steph said as she pulled the tie from her hair. &lt;i&gt;There must be a reason I'm losing my mind here&lt;/i&gt;. Steph was fully aware of how hypocritical she was being, but she didn't care. She was &lt;i&gt;sick&lt;/i&gt; of Liz driving her crazy. Spike just shook her head and left the bathroom, making Steph frown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Liz wasn't a tramp after all... Hell, maybe Liz was a lesbian? Maybe everyone in her old school had found out, so she had to move and save face? Yeah, that made sense. The lezzie was doing this on &lt;i&gt;purpose,&lt;/i&gt; tormenting Steph, making her think things she shouldn't, making her wonder if she was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph didn't finish that thought. Liz wasn't a slut. Liz wasn't a lesbian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Steph was in trouble&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5029317903400403324-6071897470931635357?l=objectsdramatics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/feeds/6071897470931635357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5029317903400403324&amp;postID=6071897470931635357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/6071897470931635357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/6071897470931635357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/2008/12/pg-13-trouble-degrassi-junior.html' title='PG 13 - Trouble - Degrassi Junior High/Degrassi High - Steph/Liz'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06307123236346081644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5029317903400403324.post-5281231736272206941</id><published>2008-12-04T02:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T02:12:54.808-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='degrassi junior high'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melanie/kathleen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='degrassi high'/><title type='text'>PG - The Lady Doth Protest too Much - Degrassi Junior High/Degrassi High - Melanie/Kathleen</title><content type='html'>“I can't believe Miss Avery gave us a 4-part assignment,” Melanie pouted. “I mean, it looks so &lt;em&gt;hard&lt;/em&gt;.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen smirked viciously. “I guess she just wants to distract us from her and her &lt;em&gt;girlfriend&lt;/em&gt;,” she said, making Melanie roll her eyes exaggeratedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Will you get over that rumour already?  How is &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; sexuality any of &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt;  business anyway?” Melanie asked, really sick of hearing “Miss Avery's a lesbian” again and again and again and &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why are you so defensive of her?” Kathleen asked, squinting suspiciously. “You're worse than Caitlin. Are you sure &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; not a lezzie too?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie sighed. “No, and I'm secure enough with my sexuality to not care about anyone else's. But, you want to know what kind of vibe I'm getting off you?” she said, finally losing her temper. “Shakespeare put it into words properly; the phrase is “the lady doth protest too much, methinks”.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen's jaw dropped open. “&lt;em&gt;What&lt;/em&gt; did you just call me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie felt a sadistic pleasure at how offended Kathleen was. “Don't worry, Kathleen, there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian. But it would be better if you could just admit it, and not take it out on innocent teachers.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I'm &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt;,” whined Kathleen, too emphatically for Melanie to actually take her seriously. Kathleen felt like she was in the middle of an Earthquake, desperately hoping the crack underneath her wouldn't widen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You sure?” asked Melanie, and without another moment's hesitation, she leaned over and kissed Kathleen with a resounding &lt;em&gt;smack&lt;/em&gt;. It was quick, innocent, and likely to really freak Kathleen out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That crack? Opened up and swallowed Kathleen whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I...I though you were straight!” she spat out, her stomach twisting into bizarre patterns that would probably resemble some sort of tropical bird if someone took them out of her stomach and spread them out on a table. Her heart's rate sped up to 500 million times normal speed, and she found her face growing beet red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie shrugged. “I &lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt;. Most of the time,” she said, confusingly. “Kathleen, sexuality isn't so straight forward as everyone thinks. Most of the time I am straight, but I wanted to freak you out, and you're &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; pretty.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen felt herself blushing an even deeper red. “I... I am?” the twisty feeling in her stomach she knew perfectly well to identify as butterflies, but... &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;. Kathleen was not a lesbian. Kathleen could not be a lesbian. Kathleen hated lesbianism. None of this could really be happening; it was all a nightmare or alternate universe she'd accidentally been transported to or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie nodded. “Yeah.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen started shaking violently. In spite of her claimed heterosexuality, she liked the kiss. A lot. She was really torn over whether to slap Melanie for doing that or grab her and kiss her again. Kathleen began to feel dizzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie looked at Kathleen as she shook and swayed. “Kathleen... are you okay?” &lt;em&gt;Come on, I'm not that bad a kisser...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Kathleen fainted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5029317903400403324-5281231736272206941?l=objectsdramatics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/feeds/5281231736272206941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5029317903400403324&amp;postID=5281231736272206941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/5281231736272206941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029317903400403324/posts/default/5281231736272206941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://objectsdramatics.blogspot.com/2008/12/pg-lady-doth-protest-too-much-degrassi.html' title='PG - The Lady Doth Protest too Much - Degrassi Junior High/Degrassi High - Melanie/Kathleen'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06307123236346081644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
