Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I can't do this." Esme said to herself in the mirror as she braided her hair to the side, completing her signature look. Prim, proper Esme. "I... I can do this." She tried to reassure herself, playing over in her head the reassurances that her therapist had made her memorize in times like this.

You are stronger than you think you are. Esme repeated over and over in her head, chanting it like a mantra that would somehow calm the bees buzzing in her scalp as she tried to collect her thoughts, stinging certain phrases, certain... not so great thoughts, making them grow and irritate and swell until they could not be ignored. You have been braver than this, and you will be braver than this. Esme recited... though, she wasn't sure if that was actually one of the phrases her therapist had given, or if she had just mushed together inspirational words in her head and spelled out something that resembled encouragement.

"I can do this." Esme verbalized. She knew that if anyone saw her, standing there in front of her bathroom vanity, staring into her own eyes in the mirror, giving herself a pep talk, she'd be either laughed out of the room or sent back to the psych ward that she spent four months in when she was thirteen. "I can make it through today at Degrassi. I can make it through the people staring at me, thinking I'm crazy, watching me and wondering what psycho thing I'll do next... Sorry, not psycho. I know that word is offensive and outdated..." She trailed off, losing track of where her inspirational chant was heading. "I can make it through the judgments. And the laughs. And the jerks making my life a living hell because I ruined my senior year and went from Harvard-bound to repeating a year all out of fear that Zig Novak was going to abandon me." She closed her eyes and inhaled deep, then stepped away from the mirror to examine herself.

Esme eyed herself in the mirror. She scanned every detail, trying to find what exactly it was that didn't feel right. Was it the navy blue plaid pleated skirt with red accents perfectly matched to a pair of red oxford heels that were perfectly accented by white lacy socks? Or was it her precisely placed side braid that hung down from her shoulder past her collar bone? Esme was looking into the mirror, but she wasn't seeing herself. She was seeing... the image of the person that she had tried so hard to be. The precisely styled, excellently put together, blushing beautiful girl who looked like she had no secrets to hide and no skeletons in her closet. The look that says "don't look too closely or you'll see the cracks that I can't quite smooth over". That wasn't who she truly was. And if she was going to be a better person this year, and for the rest of her life, she was going to have to adjust who she saw in the mirror. Make sure that it was the real Esme.

Her fingers slightly shook as she quickly unbraided her dark, thick hair and ran her fingers through it, feeling the slightest dampness from her shower the night before. The hair. The hair was going to change. She tousled her hair with her fingers for a moment, tried to readjust the part of her hair to the middle, do something that made her look different without going too drastic, but none of it clicked. And though her therapist had told her strictly not to act on impulse and to truly think through the implications and possible results before she says or does anything, her body took over and her mind went blank as she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut her own hair until it grazed her collarbones. The cut was rough, but it was nothing she couldn't cover up with a wave of a magic curling wand and a trip to a salon to touch up the cut when she came down from this manic moment.

Next was the clothing. Preppy, demurely dressed Esme was no longer reflective of the impression Esme wanted to give to her fellow students at Degrassi this year. She wanted to represent herself as something more down to earth. Something she was aspiring to. All of the fun and whimsy of "crazy Esme" with none of the... well, craziness. She looked through her closet, but she wasn't finding much. She had pretty much cleared out her closet of anything that didn't look like it could possibly double as a ridiculously fashionable private school uniform or something that Elle Woods would wear in a court scene in the movie Legally Blonde. She settled on something that was a little out of her comfort zone, but definitely made enough of a statement to say "I'm not the same girl you saw spiraling into a complete mental breakdown last year". Which was honestly a pretty tall order for an outfit.

A honey yellow and white gingham cropped tank top and a pair of high waisted black jeans. Not completely out of her comfort zone, but along with the newly chopped off hair, she felt like a whole new Esme. And finally, redemption and a halfway decent second chance at her senior year felt like it was maybe one step closer to possible. In fact, as Esme smiled at her reflection in the mirror, she decided that if she could get through today, she could get through anything. And that was the attitude she was going to bring to the table on the first day of school. Nothing was going to get in the way of her finding the strength and endurance to face the ugly realities of the world instead of ignoring them and getting caught up in things like toxic relationships and drugs. Not a damn thing.

...

There was a lot of stuff racing through Frankie's head as she prepared herself for day one of her senior year of high school. A bunch of things were changing this year. No more Jonah, no more Zig and Maya, no more Tiny... but then again, there was one thing that was staying exactly the same from last year. Esme Song was once again a senior. And Frankie honestly didn't know how she felt about that.

The two girls had gotten close at the end of Frankie's junior year. Or so Frankie thought. When she was struggling with people still proceeding with caution due to the racism scandal or the crazy perception that had been spread all over Degrassi that all Frankie cared about was herself, Esme took Frankie in and the two of them had the time of their lives. There was some confusing stuff with Zig, but overall, Frankie really felt like she had found a new best friend with Esme. Someone who had also made some mistakes and understood that Frankie wasn't irredeemable based on her past ignorance, but then the bombshell came out. Esme had been using Frankie as a pawn to keep Zig around and interested because she was afraid of being abandoned. Quite the news to receive about someone who you confided in and thought of as a possible best friend. But Frankie knew that she had to figure out a way to let go of the past with Esme. She had heard from a few different people that Esme spent the entire summer in therapy and was apparently in a much better place now. If that was true, Frankie saw no reason why she couldn't be pleasant to Esme. Maybe keep her distance, but be pleasant if the two crossed paths.

"Frankie, I'm driving!" Hunter called out from across the house and Frankie groaned. The twins had officially gotten their licenses and plenty of practice over the summer and had agreed on one rule when it came to driving to school: whoever was ready first and claimed the keys got to drive. And of course, while Frankie was busy standing around thinking about Esme Song and wondering what the day held, Hunter had finished getting ready and snatched the keys up. Oh well. There's always tomorrow.

Frankie observed herself in the mirror. She was still well-tanned from many days of lazing by the pool with Lola and Saad and her skin glowed against the white floral dress she had chosen to wear. She covered her shoulders with a light wash jean jacket and quickly pulled her sun-lightened hair into a slightly messy ponytail at the back of her head, pulling a few thin segments of hair out of the constraint of the ponytail holder in order to make the ponytail -- and her overall look -- look less polished.

She pulled out her phone and took a mirror selfie and sent it to Lola, who replied as quickly as if she already had her phone open to the conversation with Frankie, with an abundance of heart eye emojis, with a message following immediately after that said "YOU'RE SO GONNA GET A MAN TODAY!"

Frankie rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but grin at Lola's goofy message. Yeah, sure, it'd be nice to have that feeling in the pit of her stomach that she felt when she was around Jonah... and honestly, Esme and Zig, but she had let herself get lost so many times in these relationships that completely defined her, and she didn't want to let her last year of high school be exactly like the three before. Her first two years of high school were mostly consumed with drama concerning Zoe Rivas and a rocky relationship with Winston, who never really got who she was or recognized her as more than Miles's cute little sister. Her junior year she spent at first consumed with being so infatuated with Jonah, then the latter half was spent mostly bitterly watching Jonah be with Grace and finally finding solace in the middle of the world's most emotionally confusing rollercoaster possibly-polyamorous...fling with Esme and Zig. Basically, a lot of her teen life had been defined by who she was strongly connected to. And though she knew that inside she was always going to seek validation from those around her, she was hoping to at least put forth a valiant effort at becoming the truest form of herself and discovering who she was going to spend the rest of her life as, instead of with.

"You almost ready to go, sis? I want to catch up with Yael and see how her...their summer was." Hunter was doing his best to correct himself and validate the newest change with his ex significant other, but Hunter already had enough difficulty understanding Yael when he thought they were a girl. Now that there was this whole new side of their identity that was still to be explored, even by Yael, he recognized that there was way more learning and growing yet to come, and whether he was truly up to the challenge of a relationship that wasn't necessarily conventional or a grand shift in the dynamics between Hunter and Yael was yet to be seen. Frankie was definitely going to keep her eyes open to the future development of that situation.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Frankie replied, grabbing her white leather backpack and slinging it onto her back, ready to take on the impending challenge: senior year. The two twins hopped into the car that Miles left behind due to his inability to get it shipped to London without basically spending as much as it would cost to just buy a car when he arrived in London. Hunter started the car and looked at his twin sister, raising his brow and exchanging a glance, looking like he thought that Frankie could read his mind.

Frankie furrowed her brows and shoved her brother's shoulder. "C'mon, drive. And on the way, tell me what that weirdo look is. The only thing I can compare to that face you just made is the way you used to look when your diaper was-"

Hunter covered Frankie's mouth, cutting off her gross joke before she could finish it. "Alright, let's not go to diaper talk. It's way too damn early to be remembering the times before I knew how to do my business without mommy and daddy's help." He pulled his hand away from Frankie's mouth cautiously, and graciously thanked her for not licking his hand like she always used to do when they were little.

"Yeah, I thought about it, but then I remembered that I don't think I've seen you wash your hands once since we were eleven. It's bad enough that those gross germs touched my mouth, I don't want them creeping into my mouth and infecting me." Frankie said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her denim jacket. "Now tell me," she started as Hunter began to pull away from their home and begin the relatively quick drive to their humble high school. "What was that look about?" She questioned, and Hunter took his eyes off the road long enough to make knowing eye contact with Frankie.

"You know what I'm referring to." He said, and Frankie shoved his shoulders again.

"Keep your eyes on the road." She said, then continued to prod him for answers. What was he being so coy about? Esme?

"Esme." Hunter confirmed her thoughts. "I mean, last year you two were blowing up the grapevine with orgy rumors and posting party pics all over your socials... After her breakdown, people are gonna be watching her. And because you two were sharing Novak the Neanderthal, people are going to be watching you too. Wondering what crazy thing you'll do next."

Frankie raised her voice in response. "What crazy thing I'll do next? I'm not the one who had the breakdown. That was Esme. Why would people be watching me for crazy drama?"

Hunter's eyes didn't leave the road. Partly because he didn't want to get reprimanded by his sister again and partly because he was honestly still a little nervous driving on main streets. He thought he was a pretty good drivers, but there were some curbs he scuffed and some close calls with cars in front of him that might've begged to differ. "Yeah, everyone knows that Esme was the one that has the serious issues, but you know... Crazy runs in packs, or whatever. And since you guys were sister wives for a couple months, people kind of figure you're probably crazy too.

"Isn't this like, really offensive considering you're actually... you know, mentally unstable...at times?" Frankie felt a little nervous bringing up his past troubles with mental illness so casually, but she wanted to test the waters and see just how much Hunter had grown and changed.

"I mean, yeah." Hunter replied as they pulled up to Degrassi and began looking for somewhere to park. "But I'm not saying my personal views. I'm just relaying what, you know, the general public thinks of you. I totally think you're normal." He finished off with a little twinge of sarcasm in his voice, but Frankie let it go and laughed at her brother. Even a year ago, she would've never thought that she could joke around like this with her twin brother. But now, they were actually in a really good place. And that wasn't a given with family. She knew that first hand. And she wouldn't take advantage of the healthy, comfortable bond she had fostered with Hunter.

Chapter Text

Walking through Degrassi's halls once again was both embarrassing and triumphant for Esme. Embarrassing because she had to face a school full of people who knew some of the most intimate details of her mental health and her past thanks to that kid, Vijay, who had started a gossip blog over the summer and dished all of the facts and rumors he could find to an audience of way too many people with way too much time on their hands. Triumphant, though, because she got a second chance. She hit rock bottom, but she was bouncing back. The act alone of her walking through the front doors of the school was a bounce back, a step up, and a move in what seemed to be the right direction. Forward. Toward the rest of Esme's life, whatever crappy or wonderful things it may hold.

There were a few faces she recognized in the hallway as she searched for her new locker. Lola and Saad were leaned up against some lockers basically as close to kissing as two people can be without technically having their faces mashed up against one another. Esme took note of the interesting couple and wondered how that happened. Vijay had reported the two of them getting together and Esme had admittedly stalked Lola's instagram and had many, many pictures of Saad, who Esme still thought of as a bit of a weirdo, shoved down her throat. She also saw Shay, who was noticeably alone, and Esme wondered if the two of them had a chance at friendship or if the whole Tiny-Zig connection had sealed Esme's fate and caused Shay to be permanently poisoned against Esme. The last face she saw that she recognized in the hallway before she reached her new locker was the guidance counselor lady, Ms. Grell.

Esme and Ms. Grell exchanged a glance, and Esme did her best non-verbal attempt at saying "please just leave me alone for right now", but the message didn't come across. Ms. Grell approached Esme and spoke in a soft voice that Esme found kind of annoying, honestly. She understood that it was Grell's purpose to be approachable and soft in order to help people solve their problems or whatever, but Esme had dealt with enough therapists and counselors in her life to know that the people who will really help you change your life don't feel the need to be all soft and fake. They'll meet you where you are. But for the sake of being a decent person, she humored the interaction.

"Hi Esme, how was your summer?" Grell stepped lightly, not diving too deep.

"My summer was fine. I feel equipped to handle my senior year and I know I can better myself if I stay focused and on path." Esme recited a line that she had rehearsed if she was confronted with an interaction that she just didn't quite have the energy for.

Grell clearly could tell that the response wasn't genuine or spontaneous, but she let it go, giving Esme a sympathetic look. "I know you're probably tired of that question." She said, and Esme nodded. "Okay, well if you ever need someone to talk to, or if you just want to get out of class and take a breather, maybe eat some snacks... you know where my office is." The guidance counselor said, and promptly turned away and departed, leaving clicking noises on the linoleum floors due to the heels she was wearing.

Esme exhaled. That interaction had gone much better than she expected. All she had to do was make it through about six more hours. And then the rest of the school year. And then the rest of her life. No big deal.

Once Esme unloaded her excess stuff into her new locker and grabbed the books necessary for her first class, she headed down the hall with her head high. The first class of the day was almost a surefire breeze. Math with Mr. Armstrong. She'd breezed through this exact class the year before. That is, until she stopped showing up to class for a month straight. But before that, she was absolutely dominating that class, and the rest of her classes. Straight A's. She hoped that she wouldn't have any issues maintaining the same GPA and her recovery at the same time. She knew life wasn't going to be easy, but she was going to try her best to make it manageable.

Esme made eye contact with Mr. Armstrong as she walked through the doorway. She was the first to arrive, and it looked like Armstrong had something to say. "Esme, a moment?" He motioned for her to approach, and she got ready for whatever 'I'm not going to let you slip up' speech she was about to receive. She was sure it was only the first of many as she appeared in the classrooms of the same teachers she'd ditched class after class of. But Armstrong's expression wasn't hardened or frustrated. It was... sympathetic. "I know you're great at math. You're one of the smartest minds I've had in recent years." He started. "I wanted to ask you... Is there anything you could be pursuing during our class sessions that would serve you better? I'm happy to give you special privileges during this class session if you can prove that you're doing something productive and beneficial to you and/or other people. And of course, turn in your homework and take the exams. I can't let you do nothing in math class. I've gotta have stuff for the record."

Esme was rendered nearly speechless by the offer. It made her wish she was passionate about something, like music or art or curing cancer or something. Because she searched her brain for something productive and helpful she could be doing during this class period, and her mind went pretty blank. There was nothing passionate on the tip of her tongue, which honestly shook her. She hadn't examined herself like this in a while. She looked to Armstrong, who was watching Esme and awaiting an answer. She felt the pressure building, and noticed a few students had begun shuffling into the classroom, so she put a bandaid on the situation. "Can I have a week to figure out exactly what I'd want to do?" She asked, trying to make it seem like she was just so overwhelmed with ideas and she couldn't figure out which one was the best, but she wasn't sure if her acting was very convincing. Armstrong nodded, and she quickly thanked him for the chance to do something other than sit through a class she could probably teach almost as effectively as Armstrong could. And with that, she headed to the seat she had sat in the year before instinctually. It brought her back for a minute, remembering how things were just one year earlier, but she shook it off. She had something to focus her mind on now. What was going to be her new passion?

...

Frankie scanned the halls of Degrassi for familiar faces. "This is so weird. I keep instinctually looking around to see if Jonah and Grace are making out, but... they're gone. We really rule this place now." She said to her brother, who was the only person she even remotely recognized in the few minutes she had been walking around the school. Frankie never really realized how many upperclassmen she was friends with until they were all gone.

"There's Yael." Hunter said, ignoring the things Frankie had previously said completely. Typical Hunter.

"Alright, well... Enjoy whatever happens there, I'll be sure to catch up on the details on Vijay's gossip blog later." Frankie teased, and Hunter just rolled his eyes.

"I've already told him what I'll do to his nuts if he starts going all TMZ on me and Yael." Hunter said, and Frankie made a disgusting face in response, but dropped it. She knew she'd hear the gossip somehow, probably from Lola, who had gotten pretty close to Yael while Frankie was caught up in Esme and Zig.

Frankie watched Hunter and Yael approach one another with the awkwardness and nervousness of the least graceful gazelles and stifled a giggle. Hunter and Yael may be complicated, but their weirdness matched one another's so well, and Frankie was pretty sure that the two of them were going to figure out some way to be together again. The two of them fit together like two really nerdy puzzle pieces who cared way too much about the same nerdy stuff. Frankie honestly wished she fit so well with someone. That was something she thought she had with Jonah, but after seeing the far superior bond Jonah had with Grace, she wondered if she was just going to have to wait a few years before her perfect person was introduced into her life.

"You look totally cuffable." Lola popped up out of nowhere, her voice right up against Frankie's ear and her chin resting on Frankie's shoulder.

Frankie turned around to look at Lola, who looked perfect, as always. "Cuffable?" Frankie questioned Lola's vocabulary as she evaluated Lola's look. A tight red cropped tank top safely covered by a baggy red and navy blue windbreaker matched with a pair of high waisted jeans. Her hair was now an understated brown color instead of whatever selection of cotton candy hue Lola was into at the time. "What does cuffable mean?"

"It means like," Lola said, reaching into the pocket of her windbreaker and pulling out a pack of gum, "Someone would wanna cuff you. Lock you down. Make you their chica." Lola spoke in a teasing tone. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth, then into Saad's mouth. Lola held out a piece of gum to Frankie, who refused.

"No thanks." Frankie said. "Is that a thing?" Frankie asked, and Lola nodded. Half of the time Frankie wondered if Lola completely made up half of the words she used.

"What's your first class?" Lola asked, putting the gum package back into the pocket of her oversized windbreaker and grabbed Saad's hand.

"Math." Frankie replied.

"Ew." Lola replied. "Saad and I have art." She reached up and tapped the tip of Saad's nose. "We're gonna totally kill it, right babe?" Lola looked to her boyfriend, who Frankie hadn't heard a word from yet, who just nodded.

Frankie started, "Well," She checked her phone and saw that the bell was due to ring within the next two minutes. "Have fun, guys. I've gotta go snag a seat in the back corner so that Armstrong won't pick on me too much." Frankie said. She had spent three years being taught by Mr. Armstrong both in math class, gym, and volleyball. If there was anything Armstrong knew about Frankie, it was that she was not a math whiz. If she was lucky, he wouldn't pull her directly to the front of the class. The most she could do was try to disappear.

She stepped into the classroom that Armstrong's class was meeting into with a bit of caution. Math was one of her least favorite subjects... Not that she really had any subject she truly excelled at. Most people had something they were really good at, whether it be writing short stories in English class or solving algebra equations with their eyes closed or cutting open dead things in the biology lab, and it honestly made Frankie feel a bit left out. There was no class in school that she was excited about. Nothing about the learning environment at Degrassi inspired her or hit her with a lightning strike of passion. It was all just...meh. She knew that once she got out of Degrassi and into the real world she'd find what she was meant to do, but she had a whole year left before she graduated, so she was feeling a bit apathetic about the whole thing. Miles had creative writing, Hunter had producing video content and gaming, Shay had sports, Saad had photography, Lola had fashion and social media... What did Frankie have? Who was Frankie Hollingsworth? Her mind was feeling heavy already, and she still had 90 whole minutes of math class to pile on top. She had a feeling she'd be worn out by the end of the school day.

"Frankie?" A voice called from across the classroom as Frankie crossed the threshold into the classroom. "Frankie, can you sit here?" It was Esme. Before Frankie had a chance to even decide if this was a good idea or not, she found herself sitting down right next to Esme Song. Her body knew something her mind didn't yet.

"Hey Esme." Frankie said, looking to the other girl and noticing that her signature long, dark braid had been chopped into a messy but cute cut that barely grazed her collarbones. "How was your summer?" She asked, exchanging a look with Mr. Armstrong who had taken notice of the two girls entering a conversation. Mr. Armstrong pointed to his watch, then mouthed that the two girls had 4 minutes to talk before the bell rang. Frankie nodded and tried her best to give Armstrong a good impression so he wouldn't go too hard on her this semester.

"My summer was good." Esme replied calmly. Gone was the desperate, panicky Esme who would come to Frankie in a manic craze proposing some crazy off the wall plan or trying to manipulate Frankie into ditching the people who cared about her most. "I did a lot of therapy, figured out a lot of crap that was messing me up. I'm definitely in a better place than I was. And it's thanks to you."

Esme crediting Frankie honestly took Frankie by surprise. She had no idea why Esme thought that Frankie was to thank. Sure, Frankie was the one who stuck by Esme when everyone else started calling her crazy and writing her off, and Frankie was the one who helped inform the school counselor to save Esme after she had hit her breaking point, but she was also the one who allowed Esme to abuse Zig and stood by when she knew that Esme was a danger to herself and others. Frankie wasn't exactly proud of her role in the whole messy situation, nor did she consider herself a totally positive player.

"I mean it." Esme continued, as if she read Frankie's expressions and knew that Frankie was confused as to why she was receiving credit. "I know I was out of it, but I still remember that you were there for me when nobody else was. When I was calling in bomb threats at the prom and going off the handle at everyone, you gave me somewhere to crash and the comfort of knowing you'd listen to me if I could even begin to describe how unhinged and out of whack things were in my brain." Esme looked down, almost seeming like she couldn't face Frankie. "You were a true friend to me, even though I was like, the worst friend to you."

Frankie honestly believed Esme. She wondered if she should, considering how manipulative Esme had been in the past, literally using her as a pawn to keep Zig interested. But despite all the crap that went down, she believed Esme. And she forgave her.

"I'm really glad you're feeling better." Frankie responded. Before seeing Esme, she had convinced herself that she was not interested in building a relationship with Esme after all the things that happened, but seeing Esme and remembering that Esme wasn't this irredeemable villain that Frankie had convinced herself she was after months of not seeing her... Frankie felt a pull to Esme. And maybe that was wrong. Maybe she was allowing herself to be manipulated right back into Esme's hands and she just couldn't see it... But at that moment, she felt like everything was right when Esme was back in her life. And maybe the two of them could actually be friends.

She couldn't lie... She had felt a connection closer to anyone else with Esme. Which was why it hurt so much when Esme basically confirmed that it was all to manipulate Zig. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe deep down, Esme really cared about Frankie and felt a connection to her, and was just misguided in how she came about it... Frankie was honestly confused. Being social and having connections and relationships with people had become much more complicated since she started growing up.

The bell rang, interrupting the girls' conversation. Frankie looked at Mr. Armstrong again, who had kept an eye on the two girls even as the classroom filled up with other students.

Before she fully committed to the class, she looked over at Esme again one more time and felt her lips curl into a smile involuntarily. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad. Maybe her life would be filled with great relationships. She was closer to Hunter than ever before, and finally had a healthy bond that they had never quite secured in their past. She and Lola were in a good place, Shay was busy with doubling down on her sports stuff, but the two had a mutual acknowledgment that they'll always be there for one another, and maybe... just maybe, she had a friend in Esme. And even though it wasn't her main goal to find a romantic partner, especially since she had kind of lost hope after another heartbreak, maybe if she were lucky, she could find that special person to make the most of her senior year with.

Chapter Text

Throughout the class session, Esme couldn't help but continue to glance over to Frankie Hollingsworth. After all, she knew the crap Armstrong was teaching like the back of her hand. She didn't exactly need to pay attention to anything else. Frankie had talked to her. She had even done something that resembled forgiveness. Esme knew she had a long way to go, with Frankie and everyone else at Degrassi, but this felt like a start. A really great, really encouraging start. It felt good to have a win.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the class, and Esme immediately gravitated toward Frankie. She knew she should cool it, but she felt a pull that she couldn't quite reign in. "Hey." Esme said, watching Frankie gather her things and stuff them into her backpack. Perfect representation of Frankie Hollingsworth. She had a super cute backpack that matched her phone case and sat on the small of her back just so flawlessly as she wore it, but inside was a mess. Crumbled up papers littered the bottom of her bag, allegorical to the trauma Frankie had experienced, shoved down and pushed to the side, not thrown away or cleaned out, just hidden, waiting to be uncovered when things just became far too much.

"Hey, Esme." Frankie replied, surely having no idea that Esme had just spent the past several seconds psychoanalyzing her backpack and turning it into an analogy for Frankie's mental health and trauma. Drawing comparisons between random inanimate objects and emotions was something Esme had learned over the summer in therapy. Apparently, comparing the scary feelings you felt to random crap, like the gum on the bottom of your shoe, or even the shoe itself, was some sort of therapist tactic. Esme wasn't sure if it was effective, but it sure allowed her mind to race.

"How was your summer?" Esme asked, watching Frankie sling her bag onto her back. "Do anything fantastic?"

The two girls filed out of Armstrong's classroom, followed only by a boy on crutches and a girl who was currently sitting on Armstrong's desk working overtime trying to flirt her way to a guaranteed A, which was failing epically.

"My summer was definitely better than the rest of that girl's year is going to be." Frankie joked, but didn't follow up with news as to how her actual summer was.

Esme wanted to urge Frankie to expand, because she wanted to know how Frankie spent her summer, but she didn't want to push, so she just let it go. "What's your next class?" Esme asked, changing the subject but attempting to keep Frankie's attention.

Frankie dug through her messy backpack in search for her schedule. "I always have trouble for the first few days remembering my schedule." She said, grabbing a piece of paper and inspecting it. "Nope, that's… I'm not even sure what this is." She tilted her head to the side and tossed the paper into a trash can as they were passing it. "Here it is." Frankie said, handing Esme the schedule to look at while she zipped up her bag and slung it on her back once again.

"English. Me too." Esme tried to hide her excitement for more time with Frankie Hollingsworth. She tried to remind herself not to get too attached to Frankie. She had been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder a few weeks into her therapy, and one of the things about BPD and other personality disorders was that more often than not, a sufferer would attach themselves to a 'favorite person'. A favorite person was often the receiver of unhealthy attachment and obsession, to the point of possible abuse or manipulation. At first, Esme's favorite person had been Miles. Then it was Zig. And if she weren't careful, her next victim would be Frankie. She had to be sure to be conscious of her interactions with Frankie. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt another person. Especially someone she loved, like Frankie.

"Are we friends?" Frankie asked, catching Esme by surprise. "I know some crap happened last year, and it's going to take some time to get over it, but I don't want to exist in this weird friendship limbo where we're both tip-toeing, not sure what the boundaries are or whatever."

And it was like Frankie had read Esme's mind. Turns out there was a reason the two had connected, and it wasn't just Frankie's need for a friend and Esme's need for a plaything to keep Zig interested.

"I'd like to be." Esme replied, and Frankie flashed a smile.

"My house tonight, let's try this friend this out. My parents are in London helping Miles get settled into his new dorm." Frankie said.

"Are you going to throw a legendary Hollingsworth party?" Esme questioned, playfulness in her tone.

A confusing expression played across Frankie's features. "Should I?" She asked, and it shocked Esme that a party hadn't even seemingly crossed Frankie's mind. It felt like a concept that would cross any high school senior's mind. Even Frankie, who despite her faux rebellion with Esme and Zig the previous year, was a pretty good egg.

She knew that a party was an awful idea, but she also knew that a huge, successful social interaction with Esme's name on it meant that the rest of Degrassi would be more susceptible to embracing Esme, which honestly, as much as she tried to pretend she didn't care, she did. Esme wanted people to like her. She knew now that the tactics she was using, manipulation and abuse, were the wrong approach, but there was nothing wrong with Esme wanting people to like her, and wanting to like people. She wouldn't force Frankie to have a party, or manipulate her into thinking that a party was the only way her peers would accept her… No, that was last year's Esme. Instead, she would just suggest the concept and feel out where Frankie was. She'd have to ask her therapist later if this justification was right or not.

The two girls finished their trek to their next class and seated themselves near one another once again, which made Esme feel positively fantastic and hopeful as all hell.

"I honestly hadn't thought of it. Usually, Miles would have already planned a party by now. I guess I'm not used to being the big kid in the house. Maybe I should throw a back to school kickoff party…" Her voice wandered as Frankie seemingly explored the possibilities in her head. "You know," She started, reaching into her mess of a bag to grab what she needed for the class they were preparing for now. "It would totally boost my rep if I had a party at my house. I mean, Miles pulled this all the time. Any time he wanted a boost, he'd just invite a bunch of Degrassians over and suddenly, everyone loved Miles Hollingsworth again. I don't necessarily wanna follow in my bro's footsteps when it comes to big gestures to impress my peers and loved ones, since clearly that didn't truly work for Miles…"

Esme reached over and placed her hand on Frankie's mouth, stopping the babbling. "Frankie." Esme said, keeping her hand over Frankie's mouth despite the other girl's thrashing in protest. "Do you want to throw a party, yes or no?" She smiled as Frankie wiggled her face, trying to escape Esme's light grasp on the lower half of her face. Frankie honestly was one of the cutest people Esme had ever met. Whether it was the wiggle of her eyebrows or the way her nose crinkled when she laughed or got excited… She got why Zig was accepting of Frankie crashing their relationship. She was desirable in every definition of the word. She was sweet, patient, understanding, funny, open…. Esme paused her internal praise-a-thon of Frankie to listen as Frankie finally attempted to speak again.

"Yes. As long as you're there to help me." Frankie responded simply, a stark difference from her unsure babbles and word vomit that was occurring only minutes prior. The bell rang and the teacher closed the door and begun introductions, but the inner glow that Esme was feeling at the moment overpowered her perception of anything else. Now all she had to do was make sure that this party was a success. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

...

"Do you ever feel like you turned out completely different than you thought you would?" Lola questioned Frankie as the two girls sat on a bench outside of the school, picking at their respective lunches. Saad had agreed to eat lunch with his sister and Shay was video chatting Tiny about six feet away, telling him every detail of her day so far, including what had turned into a ten minute discussion about whether or not Chemistry should be considered a math class. Definitely not a discussion Frankie felt like she was missing out on by not getting involved.

"What do you mean?" Frankie asked in response, though her head was already spinning, remembering who she always thought she would be and comparing that girl to who she actually was. Her brain was hurting, so she put the hurricane of thoughts on hold to listen to Lola clarify what she meant.

Lola crossed her legs and pulled one of her shoes off, digging in and grabbing a small rock that was embedded in her inner sole. "Sorry, that was driving me insane all day. The feeling of walking with a pebble in your shoes is like, ten times worse than how it feels when you're wearing heels. At least when you're wearing heels it makes you look cute. With this little devil," She said, holding the rock up, "It's just in there. And you're the only one who knows how badly it's digging into you." She inspected the small rock in between her fingers, then looked to Frankie with a grin on her face. "Damn, that sounds deep, doesn't it? I should write that down, right? Or like, send it to Miles so that he can put it in one of his creative writing stories."

Frankie furrowed her brows, taken aback by how easily distracted Lola Pacini was. "What were you talking about before?" She reached over and swatted the small rock out of Lola's hand, making it fly into the grass.

"Oh!" Lola exclaimed, after giving Frankie a playful dirty look for discarding the small pebble. "I mean like, when we were freshmen we were these totally different people. Cheerleaders, Zoe's minions... You dated Winston, I kissed Winston..."

"You said you'd stop bringing that up." Frankie said sternly and defensively, a little bit of betrayal still layered somewhere in her voice. It felt wrong for her to feel this way, but the truth was, there was this tiny part of her, somewhere deep down that still had trust issues and felt stabbed in the back by that kiss. She had forgiven them both obviously, but something in her couldn't quite forget the way Winston and Lola bent over backwards in an attempt to be disloyal to Frankie. Frankie had to wonder if that tied in with her mistrust of her father, which later caused her to not trust Jonah, which lead to their eventual demise.

"Sorry." Lola said earnestly. "I just meant... Back then, we thought we had it all figured out. We thought we knew our place. But we didn't. And we still kind of don't. Isn't that kind of weird?"

"I shouldn't have snapped like that." Frankie started, but Lola's face told her it was okay, and she didn't need to apologize further, so she moved on to the next part of what she was trying to say. But it was hard for her to articulate. Nervously, Frankie decided to just turn her filter off and let the words flow out.

"I thought all I had to do was be nice." She started, her tone probably more serious than Lola ever anticipated from her probably-innocent question. But now that this was at the forefront of Frankie's mind, she couldn't stop it. "Just be nice, and people will like you and accept you and you'll make lifelong friends and everything would be okay. I thought that high school would be easy and fun and I could have a nice boyfriend and nice friends and breeze through. I got the guy that I had a crush on since I was eight. I got to be a cheerleader. Everything was fine. And then it wasn't." She stopped to look up from her food and saw Lola, intently listening. "Zoe terrorized me, my dad ruined my family by being an abusive cheating jerk... I was stuck on the outside while you guys followed Zoe's commands. And then... After that, it just felt like nothing was ever the same. I could never be happy like I was. I could never trust people the way I did. I felt... jaded. Like nothing truly mattered, at least the way I thought it did."

Lola interjected, "That's when you got the weird blonde hair."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing that up." Frankie joked, though she was honestly glad that Lola had stuck a joke into the otherwise really depressing conversation. She was basically listing off all of the reasons why she wasn't the optimistic 14 year old who walked into Degrassi Community School thinking she could make high school the best years of her life like she'd seen in every teen movie she ever watched. "As you said, I got weird blonde hair, trying to find a new identity, trying to become the real Frankie Hollingsworth."

"Can I just say I'm so glad that the real Frankie Hollingsworth doesn't have chunky blonde highlights?" Lola teased. Fair, Frankie thought. She often looked back at photos with that short-lived hair faux pas and cringed.

She paused, trying to recollect exactly what she was saying without rehearsing it in her mind first. "Then I met Jonah. And I thought that was the big thing for me. I thought that meeting him and falling for him and loving him was my purpose. I thought everything I had experienced was leading up to this moment, where I meet this guy who is gonna change my life and I'm going to become who I really am." She paused. "But clearly, that wasn't the case. And now, I'm a senior in high school and I have no idea who I am, what I want..."

Lola reached out, attempting to comfort her friend. "You'll figure that stuff out. Shay and I got lucky. We found our stuff in junior year. We're early bloomers. I've got All Inclusive and Saad, Shay has sports and Tiny. I'm just glad you're not pulling an early 2000s Paris Hilton, partying it up with Esme and Zig again. Just stay away from parties and all things Esme Song and I guarantee, your 'thing' is right around the corner. I have a sixth sense about these things."

Esme's name caused a fire in Frankie's chest, and the context in which Lola mentioned it made Frankie's palms sweaty. She hadn't mentioned to Lola or anyone yet that she was giving Esme another chance, mostly because she hadn't planned on it and didn't know how it was going to even work out. Or if it could. All she knew at the moment was that she had several classes with Esme, and they were maybe going to have a back to school party - they had their last class of the day together, debate, and decided they'd come to a conclusion then. Maybe they'd even debate it.

"About that..." Frankie started cautiously, and before she could continue, Shay arrived and sat at the table next to Lola.

"What'd I miss?" Shay questioned, and Lola motioned for Frankie to continue.

Frankie loved her friends. She truly did. But Shay was one of the most judgmental people Frankie had ever met in her life, especially about Esme Song. And the thought of Shay and Lola collaborating on a rant about how much they dislike and distrust Esme was the last thing Frankie wanted to hear. She glanced around, noticing many students returning to the school, signifying that their lunch break was probably almost over, which meant an escape route just made itself available to Frankie.

"Ah, look, people are going back into Degrassi. We should probably head in. Don't wanna be late for anything on the first day." Frankie said, trying to cut the Esme conversation short. She knew it was one she was going to have to have soon, especially if Esme and Frankie fully rekindled their bond, but she was going to try to put it off as long as humanly possible.

Lola saw right through it, though, placing her hand on Frankie's shoulder and pushing it down to ensure that Frankie stayed seated until the beans were spilled. "Shay, we were just talking about Frankie staying away from Esme and not repeating last year's Frankie, and Frankie was about to tell me something."

"Spill." Shay said simply, and Frankie felt a little bit like this was none of either of their business, especially Shay, who wasn't even a part of the previous conversation. Frankie knew that Shay's intentions were good, as were Lola's. The two girls weren't forcing Frankie to tell them what she was about to say because they just wanted to hear the latest dirt. She knew it was because they wanted what was best for their friend. But Frankie was suddenly feeling very defensive of Esme, and really didn't want to hear two people who barely knew anything about Esme or what she had been through judge the crap out of Esme.

With a sigh, Frankie told her two best friends everything that had happened that morning. Including the possibility of a Hollingsworth party, to which they both simultaneously expressed that a party was a good idea, but a party with Esme was a bad idea.

The bell rang and the three girls got up, but continued their conversation.

"You don't know her." Frankie said.

"We don't have to know her to know that she's a horrible influence on you." Shay responded.

"Exactly. I mean, look at the crazy crap she pulled last year. She literally failed her senior year because she was too busy having a breakdown. I feel bad for her, but you don't need that in your life. It's gonna prohibit you from finding your thing." Lola called back to their earlier conversation, trying to appeal to Frankie, but it honestly just infuriated Frankie further.

Lola and Shay didn't know about Esme. They didn't know all of the multiple layers that Esme had. They didn't know the crap Esme had been through, the ways she struggled, they only knew what everyone else knew. That Esme was unhinged and did crazy stuff. But that wasn't the extent of who Esme was, and the fact that people reduced her to one note, one crazy event, one part of who she was... It drove Frankie up the wall. People had done the same thing to her. Reduced her to just 'the racist girl', or 'the girl who got dumped by Jonah', and it wasn't fair. That wasn't to say that Frankie's experiences of ignorance and her Jonah breakup were at all comparable to the things Esme had been struggling with, but she knew how it felt. And it definitely didn't feel good. Which made her want to fight for Esme even more.

"Earth to Frankie. Get Esme out of your head. She needs help, and I'm sympathetic to her struggle, but it's not your responsibility to take care of her." Shay said, and Lola nodded in agreement. The girls entered the front door of the school but continued their conversation.

"Right." Lola said. "You say you wanna find your thing, you wanna find who the real Frankie Hollingsworth is... You're not gonna find that girl throwing parties with Esme Song. That girl is nothing but drama. And drama is never the pathway to anything good."

"Wow." a voice interjected. Esme's voice. The one word she spoke was so heavy, so full of betrayal. Frankie literally knew how Esme was feeling based on the tone of one three letter word. "You guys really think you're that much better than me." She said, walking away from the triad, whose faces were now all painted red with embarrassment and shame, not giving any of them a chance to respond.

Frankie could not feel worse in this moment, her heart sinking to the ground as she realized that Esme had heard the things Lola and Shay had said. "Do you guys feel better now?" Frankie questioned, and her two friends stayed silent. Of course now was when they chose to be quiet. She couldn't lie, she was really upset with Lola and Shay. She felt herself pulled in Esme's direction rather than her friends, which made her start to wonder if maybe the real Frankie Hollingsworth was being held back by the people she had spent the past four years with, rather than the new influences in her life.

Chapter Text

"I don't wanna hear it." Esme said, pushing Frankie away once again after spending the rest of the day post-hearing Frankie's friends talk shit about her completely ignoring the female Hollingsworth's existence. School was over, and the last thing she wanted to do was listen to Frankie rattle off the reasons why she was friends with Lola and Shay, who had never done anything but talk shit about Esme. "Seriously. I'm good. I don't need your apologies or your friendship. I just wanna go home."

Admittedly, Esme was really, really hurt by all of this. Throughout the summer, she told her therapist that nobody would accept her when she got back to Degrassi. She went into painstaking, gross detail about the ways people would talk shit about her, the way things would be twisted around and rumors would be spread, and the way that nobody would ever love her for who she was... At least not in high school. But after she reunited with Frankie, she had stupidly convinced herself that all of that talk was a manifestation of her anxiety. A manifestation of what she thought of herself, not what other people thought of her. Her therapist spent weeks convincing her that the concept of everyone thinking she was this crazy bitch was just in Esme's head. But now Shay and Lola, and Frankie by extension, had proven every worry Esme had ever expressed was completely true. Esme wasn't a human to them. She was just a walking, talking stereotype. The crazy, bad influence. Great.

"Please, Esme." Frankie pleaded, and Esme admittedly felt a little bit of sympathy. She knew that Frankie wasn't this evil horrible backstabber, but she also knew that anyone who spent time talking about someone else behind their back was probably toxic, and if she were to describe this situation to her therapist, she would be advised to stay away. So that was what she was planning on doing. Staying away.

"I can't have this toxic drama in my life." Esme finally replied as she unlocked her locker and grabbed the stuff she needed to bring home. "I can't... go crazy again. And having drama in my life is a big trigger."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I don't endorse the crap they said. I promise." Frankie responded, and the tone of her voice truly sounded genuine. Esme wanted to believe her, but she just couldn't.

"That's nice of you to say, but... I can't." Esme said, walking away from the one person at Degrassi who had interest in being around her. It was so tough for her. Because she really wanted friends, but she couldn't fall into these toxic patterns, which seemed to be all that high school had to offer. She thought to herself... If only she hadn't fucked up her senior year. She could be at Harvard or Columbia or some other insanely impressive school. Sure, she'd be popping pills and fucking up wherever she went if she hadn't spent the summer to recuperate and this year for a second chance, but... At least she wouldn't be bordering on nineteen still letting herself get wrapped up in high school drama.

As Esme walked to her car, she regretted everything. She had to convince herself she was right to walk away from toxicity. Old Esme would've been attracted to a situation like this like a bee to honey, but... new Esme was better than this. She was better than people who allowed the people around them to trash her. Last year, she let Zig's friends treat her like crap, constantly try to convince Zig to break things off with her... Even though that relationship was toxic, and his friends were right to advise him against hanging out with her, she still learned a valuable lesson that could be used now that she was at least on the way to being mentally healthy: Never sacrifice your happiness and comfort for someone who can't stand up for you.

So now, despite the fact that she had started her day so optimistically, Esme was going home. Alone. With only her father and her own thoughts to deal with.

Esme approached her car and entered immediately, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. The last thing she needed was for some douche to realize which car was Esme's and tag it with the word 'psycho' or something. That wasn't outside of the realm of possibility at Degrassi. There were some cruel jackasses who attended the supposed 'community' school.

She started her car and paused, feeling a small burst of vibration from her pocket. "What?" She said out loud, before checking to see who was trying to reach her. Frankie, of course.

It was a text that read 'I'm sorry, please come over and talk.'.

As tempting as that was... As tempting as anything but retreating to her father's house until she got the chance to go back to school was... She couldn't give in that easily. She couldn't let Frankie just get away with this. It was completely justified for Esme to be mad, and she wasn't going to compromise her emotions just to make friends with someone who couldn't bother standing up for Esme over the most basic criticism. She typed... 'Sorry, no.'

...

"So, Franks," Lola started, snapping her fingers in an attempt to draw Frankie's attention away from her phone screen. "Think Shay and I could come over tonight since Esme clearly doesn't want to?"

Frankie shook her head, still reeling from the inadvertent betrayal of Esme. "No, this is gonna bug me..." She spoke wearily.

"Not even for a movie night?"

"Ask your brother. She literally got him addicted to pills." Lola added. "On purpose. She manipulated the crap out of him and almost caused him to OD."

"They were both addicted to pills," Frankie replied, jumping to Esme's defense with lower certainty in her voice. As his little sister, Frankie had, of course, witnessed Miles's pill addiction firsthand. He kept his distance during that time because he was understandably avoiding their father, but the few times Frankie saw Miles during his drug bender vignetted in her mind like scenes from a tragic movie. Spacing out at Hunter's gaming tournament, not being in his bed in the morning, ending up in the hospital with a cocktail of drugs in his system... But that wasn't fully Esme's fault. Both Miles and Esme were messed up and found solace in one another but took it out in unhealthy ways. It was messy, yes, but not abusive. That was the short side of the story Esme told Frankie one night over a bottle of champagne anyway.

"Where did you even hear that?" Frankie questioned, realizing Lola was acting like she sure knew a lot about the situation.

Lola hesitated. Give it up, Frankie thought. "I mean, Miles told me. When we were close after the crash." Lola admitted.

"How close were you guys anyway?" Frankie questioned, allowing herself to get distracted for a moment. She knew she'd have to bring it full circle back to Esme eventually but this was a detour she wanted to take for a moment.

"Why does it matter?" Lola seemed defensive. Like she was hiding something.

Frankie thought back to a moment that she had initially brushed off. Just before the pre-grad camping trip. A joke Lola had made.

"You weren't joking," Frankie said suddenly.

"What?" Lola said.

Frankie paused, then spoke. "When you said Miles was the dad."

"No."

"Oh."

When Lola had initially said that Miles was the father Frankie had chosen not to believe her. She knew that Lola had been hanging out with her brother for the play, but throwing Miles's name out there was, in Frankie's head, as much of a wildcard joke as if Lola had said Baaz or Hunter. In fact, with everything Miles was going through with Tristan, Frankie genuinely had sort of convinced herself that Baaz was the father. Either that or that Lola was hiding some sort of dark secret that she didn't want to talk about. That was mostly why Frankie had shrugged the topic off so easily. After saying all of the wrong things about abortion to Lola the last thing Frankie wanted to do was blab on and offend Lola about a topic as serious as sexual assault. Like she needed another scandal after the whole Northern Tech drama in grade 10.

"I think what Lola is trying to say is... Esme has a pattern. Tiny told me all the crap she did to Zig. She's unstable. We just don't wanna see you get caught up in Hurricane Esme."

Frankie considered what her friends were saying. They were right. Esme had an observable path of destruction. But so did everyone else at Degrassi. "What about Hurricane Frankie? We've all done dumb, horrible crap. Even you, Lo. We're dumb teens."

"I just think there's a chance she's more than just a dumb teen. Like she needs help. Help you can't give her." Lola said. "I'm not trying to be mean, I just don't want to see your entire senior year be consumed by..." she gestured toward the braid-wearing girl that had re-emerged, walking in the opposite direction from Frankie with a fierce pace. Esme was in avoidance mode, which meant for Frankie, it was chasing time. "You're gonna go after her anyway, aren't you?"

"You know it." Frankie replied, shoving her phone in her pocket and picking up her walking speed. Lola may have been right that Esme needed help, but that was where her knowledge on the situation ended. All this conversation had proven was that Frankie understood Esme in a way everyone else at Degrassi either couldn't or refused to. That made it all the more important that Frankie was the one to help. It needed to be real, and something about this was.