Note: In my old high school we had an actual phone booth... Only it had walls that you couldn't see through. I'm saying they DO at Degrassi, too.

Thanks: Sammy, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For reading the first version and then sticking with me as I completely rewrote the stupid thing. Thank you for reading version 2 of chapter one, even in the midst of everything else you were dealing with. You're the best beta a fan fiction writer could ask for, truly. Thank you more than I can say. You made this story ten times better and gave me the confidence to actually go through with writing it. Words cannot express my gratitude for not just your beta'ing skills, but your friendship (which I truly treasure). Keep rocking the late night hours and I'll keep catching you in the AM.

Also, thanks to Miss Hash and Miss Jamie for giving this chapter a read and letting me know they liked it. I really appreciated you guys giving me words of encouragement. Also, thanks Jerm for picking up on the gritty details I missed and making it all the more better! ::hugs and gropes:: And more thank yous to Lauren for going through it in a final sweep and picking up on anything that was missed. Also, for crowning the triangle Emjan and fueling my new obsessive fascination with all things EmJay. ::muah::

    They'll never see
I'll never be
I'd struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

Lies, Evanescence

Stupid posers.

If there was one thing Jay Hobart knew about the school he went to it was that it was filled with the brain dead and the completely useless. Jay wasn't stupid enough to count himself out of that group but it didn't mean he had to like being a part of them.

Jay took a bite of his P&B sandwich, not caring that the bread was stale. The bread was always stale. Big whoopity doo da, Jay thought. It was food; Jay didn't discriminate.

Every Tuesday and Friday Jay found himself hunched inside the small black incubator they called a phone booth. The walls of the phone booth had gum stuck to them, the colors varying and making their own sort of wallpaper. It smelled like the inside of a shoe. A five year old shoe, he decided as he gagged slightly while taking a bite of his sandwich. But he made no move to go back into the lunchroom. If it was between a scrunched up phone booth that smelled like the boys' locker room on the hottest day of the year or the crowded lunchroom, it was the smelly phone booth hands down.

Every frickin' Tuesday and Friday, Jay thought with distain. There were the two days where Jay had lucked out and had none of his crew, even those that he thought were on the lower scale of loserdom, scheduled at the same time. No, he had to go and take art class. What type of freak takes art class? But he needed an arts credit and art class filled it. Too bad the only people who had that lunch of Tuesdays and Fridays were those that had some type of class that was in the arts. Like a music class or, God help him, a drama class. That was just great. All the big, dorky losers could hang out together at lunch and torture him with their lameness.

Last year it would have been no big deal, seeing as how he probably would have cut before lunch on most days anyway. But this year brought bigger and more annoying things, including a warning of expulsion from Raditch if he didn't show more regularly.

Jay would normally shrug it off if it was detention or even suspension but, despite what he tried to show, Jay wanted to graduate. That was the only way he would get the hell out of the shitbox he called a town. He couldn't do that without some education.

He figured he could eat in his car, but that wouldn't end so well. Mostly, if he got his ass in his car he probably wasn't coming out of it unless he was stepping out onto non-school property. If he sat down in his car before the end of the day, ditching school was sure to follow. It was too much second nature. Like he really cared. But Raditch did and Jay wanted out of Hellsville.

So, there he was, like clockwork every Tuesday and Friday, huddled at the bottom of the booth with his paperbag lunch and antisocial attitude. He went unnoticed and, he was beginning to realize, completely unseen.

He learned things that way, surprising thing.

As regular as his Tuesday and Friday phone booth lunches were was the girl who would dart into the bathroom fifteen minutes to the end of lunch. Or something like that. It's not like he had counted or anything, he had just started to notice things.

Not that he cared. He'd just had nothing to do for far too long on his Tuesday and Friday lunches.

Jay started as he heard a whistle coming from far down the corridor, around the corner. Poking his head out he listened more closely and realized as he quickly scrambled off the floor that it was Raditch.

Shit, he cursed to himself. It didn't matter that he was doing nothing wrong. If Mr. Raditch found him there he'd find a reason to drag him to his office for a lecture.

Jay looked around the hallway, a small wave of panic washing over him as he saw the closed and likely locked classroom doors. As the whistling drew closer his eyes stopped on the one open door. Not bothering to look at the front or the lettering on the window of the door he quickly flew into the room.

The whistling shifted the way it sounded, indicating Raditch had turned to corner and was quickly moving in Jay's direction.

Thinking lightning fast Jay yanked the closest door open and scrambled in. He closed the door as quietly as he could and breathed a sigh. Was he going to extremes to avoid a lecture? Probably. But Jay wasn't sure if he had to sit through one today he'd be able to keep his lunch down.

The closet smelled rusty, like the inside of his four year old sneakers that were caked with dirt in the outside. It was dark with only a small amount of light leaking out from the bottom. Jay was tempted to turn on the overhead light bulb but then figured he shouldn't risk it.

Jay breathed a sigh as the whistling faded off into the distance. Just as he was going to open the closest door and head back out he heard the clinking of heels. Footsteps traveled into the room outside of the closet and he heard the room door shut.

There were more sounds of heels on floor and then the swiveling of a chair against the ground as it moved. He heard papers being shuffled and the sound of the coffee pot being turned on. Finally, the room stilled some.

Where exactly had he ducked into? Jay inwardly yelled at himself for his stupidity. It wouldn't have killed him to read the writing on the door.

"Thank you for joining me today," a soft voice said, laced with empathy. "This must be very hard for you. I want you to know everything we say here is between you and me. Nothing will leave these four walls."

What the... Then it hit him. Hard. Ms. Frickin Sauve. I'm in Queen Shrink's office.

If Jay had to listen to more of her psychobabble, love-the-world crap he was going to lose his lunch. Despite the lengths he had gone to in order to keep it in his stomach.

"I want you to feel comfortable to share anything you need to share. Anything at all. This is a safe place."

He heard more shuffling and then another female voice. "I don't have anything to share."

Jay smirked at the hint of revolt in the voice. It seemed the girl, whoever she was, didn't want anything to do with Ms. Sauve's psychobabble either.

"I know you feel that way," Ms. Sauve said in that soothing voice she had. "But there has been some concern expressed for you."

"By who?" the girl asked, her voice betraying how her mind had scattered in a thousand accusatory directions.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. It is confidential."

"Confidential." The girl laughed. "Right. What exactly did this person say?"

The girl was testy. He couldn't blame her. If someone were mouthing off to Miss Guidance herself about him he'd be pissed, too.

There was a pause and then the wrinkling of a wrapper. "I see you forgot your lunch. Would you like half of my sandwich?" Ms. Sauve asked, but for some reason it didn't seem too innocent.

Jay wasn't sure, but he could almost hear the sound of fingers tapping impatiently on the side of a chair. "No, thank you."

There was another long pause. "How often do you eat lunch?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" the girl asked, a testy tone and a lack of patience leaking into her voice. Paranoia had disappeared to be replaced fully by annoyance.

The long pauses were starting to drive him insane. He wanted to bust out of the closest and tell Ms. Sauve to just play it straight so they all could just move the hell on with the rest of their lives.

He heard the sound of pages turning and figured Ms. Sauve had whipped out so type of medical file. "You're medical papers filed early last year with the school say you weighed 125 pounds." There was another damn pause. "How much do you weigh now?"

There wasn't acid in Ms. Sauve's tone, only warmth and kindness. Still, if it had been Jay she was talking to, it would have pissed him off. Who did she think she was, trying to buddy up like that to someone she barely knew?

"I don't have to answer any of this," the girl said, a bite in her voice. Apparently, the girl thought the same thing Jay did.

"No, you don't," Ms. Sauve agreed in the same calm and soothing voice. "But I want you to know I'm here for you. I want to help you."

"I don't need help," the girl said, a slight bit of desperation edging in.

For some reason, Jay wanted to tell Ms. Sauve to back the hell off. Didn't she see she wasn't helping? The girl didn't need to be badgered and it was bothering him that she was there, helpless and at Ms. Sauve's mercy. It made him feel like a pansy. But he figured they both had something in common, whether she knew it or not.

We're both undeniably fucked up, Jay thought in realization

"Anorexia. Bulimia. Eating disorders as a whole are very complicated illnesses to treat. But with counseling and support, it is possible to gain control again," Ms. Sauve continued.

There was another pause, grating on his nerves. With each pause he felt he was growing attached to this unknown, unnamed individual and it was driving him insane.

He didn't know her. Not her face, not her name. So, each pause brought him a new world for her. A new identity he assigned her. One moment she was one of those prissy dancers that was trying too hard to fit into a tutu. Next, she was a shallow little brat that worried too much about her ass. The next pause would find her as some wounded little girl that was lost and disgustingly fragile.

He heard the shifting of the chair the girl was sitting in as her anxiety built. "I...don't...have...an eating disorder."

"When you're ready, I want you to know there are places where you can find support and help. Where you can get the counseling you need. If you ever..."

"I don't need anything for you!" the girl said in exasperation. "I'm fine."

"But, you're not," Ms. Sauve said plainly, some sadness evident in her voice.

Another pause.

Jay felt his mind weighing over the scenarios. He wasn't sure what he identified her more as, in the end. What persona he had finally decided to attach to her. He just knew he'd annoyingly moved past being simply amused by the situation too quickly. He wanted to know who she was. He wanted to look into her eyes and see if she looked as damaged as he figured she did.

Ms. Sauve took a breath. "You're not fine, Emma."

What the fuck? Jay thought to himself, nearly saying it out loud. Well, there was more than one Emma in the school...

"I'm fine," the girl said emphatically.

"Well, if you ever decide that..." Ms. Sauve stopped at a voice came over the intercom.

Ms. Sauve, please report to the main office. Ms. Sauve, to the main office...

Jay could almost see Ms. Sauve's sickeningly apologetic smile and the girl's own relieved expression as Ms. Sauve stood up from her chair. "I'll be right back, Emma..."

He heard the clicking of heels and the sound of the door opening and closing. He waited for the heels to fade off into the distance. He tried to keep his hand away from the door. Tried to back down, but he couldn't. He needed to see her face. He needed to see the eyes that belonged to that voice full of passion and yet so hauntingly desperate. Fragile and strong. With an inward groan of frustration at himself Jay turned to handle and stepped out of the closet, not caring whether he got caught or not.

She made a squeak as the door suddenly opened, jumping up from her chair. The girl's eyes whipped over to him, the chocolate brown becoming a deep black as they widened in surprise.

Jay blinked once. Twice. Yet, the blond hair and tanned skin stayed the same. Emma Flippin' Nelson. Someone had to be messing with him....

Jay grunted, opening up his lunch bag and taking out an apple. He nonchalantly cleaned the apple with the bottom of his shirt, trying to appear unfazed, even as his chest pounded. "Well, well. Lookie here. Emma Nelson."

"Jay, what..." Emma said. Emma. How had he not noticed it was her voice, the little Environment Freak's voice? How had he believed it could be haunting?

Captivating?

Jay felt anger surge through him. She was suppose to be someone who would understand. Instead she was the school's own little goody-goody. Jay sneered. "Princess I'm Better Than You Are is an ol' yacker."

Jay had to laugh to himself. He was pretty sure that as far as ironies went this was top notch. The school's resident go-to-fix-it girl was just as screwed up as the rest of them.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but I'll just have you know you're wrong," Emma began resolutely. "Not that it's any of your business. Someone is very wrong here." She lifted her chin defiantly. "Or something."

Right, Jay thought with a laugh "Save the line for someone as stupid as your little friends---"

"Oh, believe me. You more than qualify as stupid."

"--- You ain't foolin' me, Green Peace. Ms. Sauve doesn't just reach out to nobody. She only takes in special cases."

Emma's face tightened into a worried frown. "How did you...What the HELL where you doing in the closet anyway?"

"Oh, Nelson said a bad word," Jay mocked. He shrugged then, his expression not giving away anything. "Lunch is boring. I make my own fun," Jay said, not elaborating.

"In the guidance office's closet." Emma's face scrunched up. "Like the loser you are."

"Touche, Nelson." He stepped closer, hating how hard her eyes looked. Weren't they suppose to be broken? Like his own... "If I were you I'd be a bit nicer to the guy who can blow the lid off your big secret. I know you don't want everyone to know how much of a head case you are."

Jay turned around and went to leave the room.

"Wait, please!" Emma grabbed his arm, her eyes bleeding into his own desperately. "Don't."

Jay felt his stomach bottom out as Emma continued to keep her pained eyes on his own. Broken. There it was... That small edge that betrayed how shattered she was inside. Jay didn't like the feelings that were welling inside as he stared at her. Stomping on any decent emotion he rolled his eyes and shrugged off her hand. "Don't worry, Princess. I have no real reason to. Just stay out of my way and I'll keep to myself how pathetic you really are."

Jay shoved past Emma and went out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He stood outside the door for a moment, looking at the lettering on the window. Guidance, it said. He saw Emma's figure distorted through the glass. From outside he never would know it was her. For some reason as he walked away the image of her distorted figure, unrecognizable and manipulated through the glass, stayed with him.

A/N: I know this deals with sensitive issues. If at anytime you feel I am portraying them in a manner that you see incorrect, let me know. I'm willing to listen.