❝I know it's hard for you to be friends with a girl without objectifying her - but lucky me, not everyone's you!❞
❝Oh yeah. 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨. The lady goth protest too much.❞
❝𝘿𝙤𝙩𝙝, Gavin. Doth.❞
→ From Van Zandt family disappointment and Grade 8...
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 of times in my life that I've said I hated someone. Even when Paige Michalchuk made fun of my clothes every other day for three years, I couldn't say I hated her. At least she knew my name.
And, sure, family circumstances ensured I'd hate my father pretty much forever, but that was somehow more than hate, something bigger and darker.
All that being said, I hated Ashley Kerwin.
Teeth gnashing, blood boiling, absolute hatred.
I hated everything about her, but mostly the way everything seemed to come easy to her. How her life was perfect, and she still found things to complain about.
Meanwhile, I wasn't necessarily student council material, but volunteering to escort the Degrassi alum around the new school gave me a great reason to not be home — and to hopefully be seen as a good student, even if it was an act.
Somewhere near the front office, a few of my other classmates scattered as they hung decorations and laid out neatly folded programs. Gavin Mason taped a sign welcoming everyone in big bubble letters and my whole face warmed as long forgotten nerves found me again after a whole summer of nothing.
"Hi, Spinner," I said too loudly and waved.
He glanced at me like he saw a coworker at the supermarket. "Uh...hey?"
He immediately turned away, as anxious as I was to pretend it didn't happen. I walked faster down the hall, trying to out-pace my embarrassment.
When I entered the Media Immersion classroom, on Simpson's desk were three clipboards with black and white copies of the same school map.
"Hey, Audrey!" I chipper voice said behind me, and I spun around to see Terri approaching. "What're you doing here? Did you volunteer?"
I smiled tightly. "Uh, yeah. Gotta earn those brownie points with the new administration, right?"
"It's weird, right?"
"What is?"
She gestured vaguely around us. "All this. Very tech-y. I've never seen so many computers in one school before, but the people here for the reunion are all wistful and starry-eyed like it's the same old Degrassi High."
"They're just reliving the glory days. Partying like it's 1999, or '89, or whatever." I folded my arms and watched a few strangers in business casual outfits chat by some lockers through the glass wall. "Or, I dunno, laughing about how miserable school was since it's long over — for them."
Terri clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Such a Capricorn."
"Speaking of..."
"Right. Your chart." She winced. "It's almost done, I swear."
