Author's Note: Keep in mind, because I do not know much about Degrassi, this is partly A/U.

Chapter Two:

They both knew that this was coming, but they were trying so desperately to avoid it, causing them to avoid each other. Clare was sitting at the outdoor lunch tables, munching on a sandwich, halfway listening to Ali gush about some earrings she saw at the mall. Clare glanced up once she felt the eyes burning into her. Eli was standing over her; Ali stopped mid-sentence.

"Come here," Eli glared at Clare, their eyes locked, unable to tear away from each other's.

"Eli…"

"Don't argue with me," he ran a hand through his hair and glanced towards the car, "Just come here. Don't make things difficult, Clare."

He spat out her name as if it were a sour taste in his mouth he was desperate to rid himself of. Clare glanced towards Ali who had taken sudden intent interest in her cuticles. Ali glanced up and shrugged. Clare stood, and followed Eli towards the hearse.

Her whole body ached as the blood painfully crashed against her veins in waves of frothy heat. She felt dizzy as the blood bubbled, becoming soda in her brain. She wanted to go back to the lunch table with Ali; she wished that Eli had never come over. In her heart, she knew that this conversation was not going to go well. This was it. She could feel that this was the end. Goosebumps stung her arms and she realized her heart was beating at an excruciating pace. The breath was trapped in her throat and her chest tightened as if her ribcage was preparing to protect her heart from shattering.

"What's going on?" Clare finally breathed out the words, forcing them to escape the iron gates of nerves that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

"You know what's going on," Eli leaned against the car, "I don't know what happened to us, but it's over, Clare. It's been over for a long time now."

"Eli…"

"Clare, don't. We've known that this was ending. It already ended. We've fallen apart from each other and out of fear of admitting it was over, we avoided each other and, in avoiding each other, we fought. We just can't…we don't work, Clare."

Clare felt as if she would collapse, and maybe it'd be best if she did – that way she wouldn't have to listen to this.

"Clare, don't look at me like that," Eli tossed his arms across his chest, "We've been over and you know it. We're done."

She couldn't believe how 'cool' he seemed with all of this. She felt tears burning her eyes like acid, and there he stood – perfectly calm, cool, collected. The only emotion he did seem to show was anger and it destroyed her. How could he do this? Sure, things had gotten bad but now that he had finally brought to words what they both knew had happened, it became real. Before, it was like a bad dream – an out of body thing that seemed to be happening to other people, not them.

"Eli…I am so sorry for the fighting…I am so sorry for…for whatever I said to you out of anger. I never…never meant for…"

"It's for the best," Eli shrugged, "Really, Clare – we don't work so why put ourselves through this much longer? We need to just end this and move on."

She nodded, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it. She so desperately needed him to hug her, to pull her into that safety-sweater that was his arms. She needed him to hold her and kiss her and make it all better just as he had done countless times.

"We can work on this," she tried, "can't we?"

"No," Eli's voice was growing angry, "I-I don't want to see you again, Clare. It's time you go your way and I'll go mine."

"Eli…"

"I think it's time you just turn and walk away now, Clare."

When she didn't, he ducked away and strolled back into the school, getting lost in the sea of students. Clare fell against the car, cradling her forehead in her palm. Ali came over, put an arm around her friend's shuddering shoulders, "Clare…"

"He ended us," Clare's voice broke, "It's over, Ali."

"Clare, it's been over," Ali reminded her, "You two haven't been a couple in quite some time. It wouldn't have been good to keep that up. You both were exhausted of fighting and maybe…just maybe this is for the best. I know this is hard, but it's better than fighting and not talking and…"

"No it's not," Clare lifted her head, revealing a tear-streaked fact, "I'd take the fighting any day. I'd rather he yell and tell me he hates me and scream at me than this. Ali, he told me he never wanted to see me again. No attempt to be friends…just ended it."

"Want me to drive you home?" Ali offered, "Being here might be too hard. I know. When Johnny and I broke up, I couldn't stand being in this place knowing he was here too, under the same roof."

Clare shook her head, "I don't know, Ali. I don't want to miss classes just because of a break-up, that's not who I am."

"Suit yourself," Ali touched her friend's arm, "How about tonight you come spend the night at my place. I'll call my mom and dad and see if it's okay. It's not good for you to go home to your parents when dealing with all of this too."

Clare nodded, "They've been fighting worse. I don't want to be there; I'll come over to yourself if your parents will…"

"I am sure it'll be fine. I can rent some of our favorite movies and we can have a junk food night and have Cheetos and eat chocolate icing from the can and munch on pizza and…"

"It sounds really good," Clare agreed, "I'd love to."

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period and the start of forth period – English for Clare and Ali and Adam…and Eli. Clare inwardly groaned, wiped the tears from her eyes, and followed Ali inside the building. Before going into their classroom, she asked Ali to check her makeup which was streaky and faded from her nose and eyes. Ali bit her lip, and Clare gave up, "I don't care," she hiked the bag up onto her shoulder and together they headed into class.

Eli was sitting next to Adam and Clare and Ali took their usual seats behind the two. Clare noticed Eli's back stiffen as she sat down behind him. Ali took her seat behind Adam and poked him in the back with her pencil. He turned and smiled at her, shrugging a bit. Eli had told him, that was clear.

Ali scribbled something on a sheet of notebook paper, poked Adam again, and handed him the note. He read it and scribbled something back. Clare and Eli were both watching them as they passed the paper back and forth. Finally, Ali handed the letter across to Clare.

Adam, what the heck is going on?

Eli is pissed at her for something. I don't know the whole story.

Can you get it?

Maybe. Sucks for Clare. She looks like crap.

Shut up.

Just telling it like it is. It's gotta be tough on her though. She was crazy for him. He was crazy for her too. Still is I think. But shhh…

Got it. What happened to the two of them? They used to be couple of the year until now. The past month has been awful and I really want to know why.

People fall apart.

Not them.

I'll see what I can get out of him. But to be honest, Ali, I don't think he's much in the talking mood…

Clare skimmed over the note before Eli reached back and snatched it out of her hands. She gasped at the action and Adam and Ali glanced at the two nervously. Eli read over the note, tore it up, headed to the front of the class, and violently threw the pieces inside.

As he walked back to his seat, he kicked Adam in the shin. Adam winced and tried, unsuccessfully to kick him back. Eli sat down, crossed his arms over his chest, and didn't acknowledge them for the rest of the period.

Their assignment for the day was to start keeping a journal of anything they'd like. Everyone thought it was a silly project but their teacher, Mr. Pruitt insisted that it would be a good idea. He said they'd appreciate it when they were nearing graduation and after graduation. He said that it was perfect, allowing them the ability to replay their high school memories at any given time.

"What if we don't want to remember our high school memories?" Clare asked Ali who smiled meekly and shrugged. Eli shifted in his seat.

"Today you will begin your journals," Mr. Pruitt nodded to a stack of composition notebooks piled onto his desk, "Come up and grab a journal and begin writing. At the end of each week, you will turn in your journals and I will check them over to make sure you are keeping up with the assignment. If you do not want me to read a certain section of your notebook, just paperclip those pages. I promise, it will be confidential."

Everyone began to shuffle up to the front to grab their journals. Once Clare got hers and returned to her desk, she began to scribble on the first page:

Today, we ended. Perfection is extinct, if it even was existent. What seems perfect, never is, and who seems perfect, never is. Relationships break. There is no excuse for them. You go into them hoping for something to prove you wrong, and then in the end, you realize you were right all along – relationships, love, it doesn't exist. At all. So hoping and praying and singing songs and writing poems and movies all about it is useless and unnecessary.

Sure, friendships can last, but boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives – it just doesn't work. So why bother trying anymore? I am done. I am done with this charade that everyone has a soulmate and everyone has someone out there to love. I am done with hoping in Prince Charming's and fairytales. I am done.

We all need to grow up someday. It's time to put away the fairytales, the Disney movies that taught little girls that they all deserve happily-ever-afters, and move on.

After class, Clare approached Ali and asked her if they could leave. She admitted being there was just too hard for her. She couldn't let her heart keep breaking; it was as if it was a broken record replaying the heartache, the shattering.

Ali nodded and she and Clare packed up their backpacks and headed to the parking lot. Clare noticed that the hearse was missing as well.

"Eli must have booked it after class too," Ali shrugged.

Clare slid into the passenger seat, a tear rolled down her eye.

"It will be okay," Ali said, turning the key in the ignition, "Really. Everything will be okay."

Clare nodded and tried to believe it, but couldn't bring herself to. At the moment, nothing seemed like anything would ever be okay again.