Clare Went Back to the Dance

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Degrassi or anything else I reference herein. No profit is being made and no infringement intended.

Chapter Three.

One good thing about Spring Break was that there was no usual morning rush at the Dot. Even on Saturdays there was a mini rush of people on their way to play rehearsal or Power Squad or just plain old Saturday detention.

But this Saturday, it was blessedly quiet, with just a couple of women taking their time over a couple of short stacks and a handful of people running in here and there for a no frills coffee.

Okay, Fitz had had to ask Peter to remind him what the hell a caramel macchiato was and how to make it, but the lady who'd ordered it had been patient and left him a tip anyway. She didn't even think that he was snarking her when he told her to have a blessed day.

He guessed that the lunch rush would be as hectic as ever if not more so, but he knew enough to enjoy the relative peace while he could. Even if Peter kept singing along to whatever was playing on the jukebox.

Bianca came in wearing what had to have been last night's dress and the last of last night's makeup. She was there, no doubt, for coffee and greasy food and lots of water so that she could look sober when she got home. Fitz hadn't seen her like that in the longest time and he didn't really know how to feel about it.

On one hand, she really needed to stop drinking. If she got busted again, she'd end up in juvie and Fitz, knowing what juvie was like, didn't wish it on anyone, especially not Bee. On the other hand, a small part of him wished he'd been out drinking with her. He missed hanging out; he could do without some of the others like Owen and Ron-Ron, but Bee was okay.

She sat at the counter. "French fries and coffee?" he asked. It was what she usually liked to have on mornings like this.

"Huh?" she asked, seeing him for the first time. "Oh. No. I'm not hungover, just sleepy. Since when do you work the counter?"

"A few days," Fitz said, shrugging, like it wasn't a big deal. "So what can I get you?"

"Ummm," she scanned the menu on the wall behind him. "Let me get…the French toast, bacon, strawberries and cream, and how big is your biggest coffee?"

He blinked at her.

"Don't look at me like that!" she said. "I had a busy night."

"Okay," he said, pointedly not asking for details.

"Don'tcha wanna hear about it?"

"I dunno, Bee, do I?" He really hoped that she'd remember that he'd been saved and keep the story PG-13.

She rolled her eyes. "I promise it won't make your ears fall off. You know that girl Jenna?" She drew a pregnant belly in the air over her own flat stomach.

Fitz nodded.

"She had the baby, and I had to go to the hospital with everybody."

"How come?"

"I was kinda handcuffed to the father…"

"How many of your stories start that way?" Fitz asked, unable to stop himself.

"No way! Did you just make a joke?" she asked and it was Fitz's turn to roll his eyes. "Fitzy made a joke. Say Hall—"

"Don't say it."

"What?" she asked. "Hallelujah?"

"She said it," Fitz muttered. She still didn't believe that he was really saved. Not too many people did, so he couldn't really blame her. Fitz thought that it even made his mother a little uncomfortable when he talked about it. But really, with Patrick, his stepdad, in and out of the hospital and Steve being, well, Steve, he figured they all could use a little faith. It was supposed to give them hope, but his Mom was turning angrier and more and more agnostic every day. That scared him. It felt like she was giving up.

"What, are you mad at me now?" Bianca asked, bringing him back to Earth.

"Huh?" he asked. She repeated the question, pouting at him.

"No, I'm not mad at you Bee," putting her coffee in front of her. "That was my thinkin' face."

"Wow," Bianca said.

"Yeah, yeah," Fitz said. "I know. You never saw that one before, right?"

"You know I just said the H word 'cause it's been freakin forever since you've been you, right?" she said ripping open three sugar packets at once.

He wrinkled his nose. "Being me's overrated. Don't let this sexy, sexy apron fool you." Bill, the cook chimed the bell, letting him know Bee's order was up, so he turned around, grabbed her plates and set them in front of her.

A few other people came in for bagels and donuts and stuff, so he and Peter were busy for a couple minutes while Bianca made a dent in the epic pile of food she ordered. That guy who worked at the garage up the street came in. He was friends with Spinner, so he was there all the time.

"Jay!" Peter fistbumped him. "What'll it be?"

"Coffee," the guy, Jay, said. "If you could, like, fill a bucket with espresso, that'd be great."

"Long day ahead?"

"Naw," Jay said. "I'm just getting off. Had to take out the flatbed last night."

Peter winced.

"Take out the flatbed?" Fitz asked.

"Yeah," Jay said. "When there's a wreck that you can't just tow with the truck, you get out the flatbed and carry it off. If you're lucky, you can get a couple spare parts off of it. If not, you just carry it to the junkyard."

"How bad was this one?" Peter said, handing Jay a mug.

"It was an accordion," Jay said, doing the same thing Bee had done with the sugar packets. "Thing is, I know the kid who was driving. You probably know him, too. Goes to Degrassi."

Bianca's ears perked up. "Who?" she asked.

"Eli," Jay said. "With the '62 Caddy hearse?"

Fitz dropped a handful of (thankfully) plastic tumblers and had to scramble to gather them up again.

"Shit," Bianca said.

"Morty? Are you shitting me?" Peter said.

"Um," Fitz began. Nobody paid him any mind. It was hard to bring himself to ask the question he wanted to ask.

"I shit you not," Jay said.

Please God, Fitz thought, then he worked up some courage.

"Was anybody in the car with him?" Fitz asked. "Do you know?"

"No," Jay said. "He was by himself."

Fitz audibly let out the breath he'd been holding. Bianca turned to look at him, then back at Jay.

"What about Eli?" she asked.

"Dunno," Jay said. "I saw them load him into the ambulance. He was awake and talking, but I couldn't exactly go over there and ask questions. Maybe I'll call Bullfrog later. See if they need anything."

"So you're, like, a friend of the family or something?" Bee asked.

"Not really," Jay said. "But I used to see them all the time. Me and Tony showed the kid where to get spare parts cheap so he could do some repairs himself, save a little money. So they like me." He downed most of his coffee in one gulp and Peter was ready with the refill. He topped off Bianca's mug while he was at it. Fitz tried to fill up a straw dispenser with some really shaky hands.

"Dude," Peter asked. "You okay?"

"Mhm," Fitz said. "Why?"

"'Cause you look like you're about to hit the floor," Peter said. "Take ten."

He was about to argue, but then said "okay," and went outside for a minute. It was a little cold to be standing there without a jacket, but the air felt really good. It was nice and quiet until Bee came out.

"Oh my God," she said. "I don't even like the kid, but damn."

He thought he should probably be lecturing her about taking the Lord's name in vain, or some such thing, but at that moment, he couldn't care less.

He hated Eli. He could admit that much to himself. Fitz tried to tell himself that he had changed, that he didn't hate anyone, but this one was hard to let go of, because it wasn't enough that Eli was smarter than him and had gotten the girl, but he had to be a jerk about it, too. He'd just had to do that thing with the Ipecac.

And he just had to be the guy that Clare would probably always go back to.

He didn't want this for Eli, though. He didn't want to picture him in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, his parents looking more or less like Fitz's own mom did when Patrick was getting chemo.

He'd never thought of Eli having parents before. Somehow he'd always pictured Eli springing forth fully grown from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"You're not gonna call her, are you?" Bianca asked.

"Who?"

"Please."

"What are you—?"

"Clare Edwards," Bianca said. "Don't even try to stand here with your hand on your phone—"

He took his hand out of his apron pocket and folded his arms.

"…and tell me that you weren't about to call her up and ask if there was anything you could do," she said. "To help her release a little tension, maybe. I know you like a book."

"It's not like that," he said.

"It is so like that," she said. "And I'm saying it for your own good. Give up. It's not gonna happen. We both know that she's in the hospital right now, feeding him Jell-O and reading him poetry."

"I think it's been about ten minutes," Fitz said. "I'm just gonna head back in."

"You think I'm being a fucking bitch right now," Bianca said. "But I'm your friend and I'm telling you this because I'm your friend."

"Yeah," he said. "Fine."

"Okay," she said. "How bout this: you deserve someone who's gonna fall all over you. This one—she's probably a good person and all, but she's falling all over him and not you. So to hell with her. Don't waste your time."

Bianca was really trying to be helpful, but that only made him more depressed. Nobody was about to 'fall all over him.' Nobody.

"This from Boiler Room Bianca," Fitz said.

"Fuck you," she said, but she didn't look mad, just sort of pitying. "You know I'm right. Just don't call her. If she wants you, she'll call you."

"Whatever, Bee," he said. "This door's gonna lock behind me, so if you don't wanna go around the front to get back in, you better come in now."

"Okay," she said, moving past him as he held the door open for her.

He found himself wishing for the regular morning rush, because he didn't want to have time to think of any of this stuff that was running through his head.