Failure By Design

Summary: Jay and Emma one-shot song fic. Go ahead and flame it, it's your time.

Disclaimer: "Failure By Design" is owned by Brand New. Degrassi by Epitome and CTV.

Alex POV

Damnit. It's so fucking cold. I hold the remnants of a cigarette against my lips, but all I can produce is a visible cloud of my own breath. I hate Canada. So fucking much.

It's a nice night for a fire, that's what she's saying. And he's nodding like a buffoon, but he doesn't know that fire is a good thing, he's only ever known it to burn his house down. I loved Sean, Sean was my first love, why did he have to break my heart, that Sean? And he responds with a witty anecdote about what love means, but he doesn't mention me once. I'm not a good story to share at parties. I'm simply this walking skeleton that got out of his closet, and now he's doing everything he can to get me back in it.

He reaches out to her and grabs her hand as she gets emotionally involved in another story about Simpson's cancer and the possibility that the screaming brat she calls a brother may grow up without a father. She will cry about her own fatherless childhood, but she doesn't know how lucky she is. Fathers aren't everything they're cracked up to be. I'd much rather have had no father than an abusive one. I'd rather be lonely than in pain and miserable.

He touches her face gently and leans in for the monumental first kiss. I hold my breath in anticipation. I know it's insane for me to get my jollies from this. I know any normal psychiatrist would tell me to rent When Harry Met Sally for my romantic side, but this is it for me. This involves me. In some twisted fucking way, I am attached to this story playing out before my eyes. I'm hooked. Don't ask me to change the channel now.

Emma finally gets the fucking sense to turn the lights off, so I begin my long walk home. I pass the lonely streets with the same drunks giving half-assed cat calls before falling in a pool of... it's best I don't go there. I hug my arms to my sweatshirt-clad torso and wish I would've had enough sense to put more on. I guess sense and Alex are just two things that should never go together.

I feel desperate, alone, trudging down these abandoned streets. I'm so fucking forgotten. Not like it's entirely his fault, because he's Jay and deep down, I've always hated him. So, I guess you could also say that I initiated the break-up, and I was just pissed at everything, typical Alex style. But it's not like he didn't want it. Oh, he wanted it. We were together because circumstances forced us to learn that we're not so different, and that made us foolishly think that we "understood" each other. Bull shit. I still don't know one thing about that damn kid that I was supposed to love.

I haven't missed him until this moment. I still don't miss him; I miss having someone to complain at, to bitch at, to fight with constantly. I stand outside my own house, too damn tired to go in. I go into the woods nearby, and cuddle against a tree, attempting to sleep for five hours until dawn beckons me awake.

How many times did you attempt to put us back together? Why? You knew as well as I did that we were better off alone. You'd drive past my house constantly, actually thinking that I was home. I wasn't. Why did you make it so hard to walk away when you knew I couldn't stay? Damnit, Jay, why do you do that stupid shit? Now, I can't forget about you no matter how many hours I don't sleep. But you're with her now. You've really changed types.

"Watch you, on the one's and two's.
Through a window in a well lit room.
Become a recluse.
And I blame myself cause I make things hard, and you're just trying to help."

I grab the phone and cross my feet on the table in front of me. "Why aren't you eating?" my mom says from across the table. "Have you eaten anything in the past two years?"

I stare at her before pushing off the seat and heading into the living room. Food is not my fucking problem. This hell, that man she married, my whole fucking life from dawn until dawn... that's my fucking problem. I turn on the phone. "Jay, my fucking car broke down, can I have a ride?" In truth, having no money for gas isn't technically breaking down, but it's all the same when you're pleading for a ride.

"I'm not going to school."

"Why not? Fucking your little barbie doll all day?"

"Cute Alex. Really. What grade are we in? Actually, I'm sick." He fake coughs for effect.

"I'm expecting you in front of my house in fifteen minutes. I don't care if you go to school or not, but I'm actually going to show up so I don't get kicked out and have to live on welfare until I die."

He sighs and yawns audibly. "Fine. God, you are such a fucking bitch sometimes, you know that?" I abruptly click the phone off. Even if it's true, he has no right to say something like that. I'm not Emma. I won't stand for his shit, especially if he's not fucking me anymore.

"And when I wake up, you're the first to call.
This is one more late night basement song."

I grab Spinner with my legs and pull him down on top of me. "This is so stupid," I say, pushing my lips against his bare chest. He breathes slowly, heavily, and I'm reminded of his weight problem and I push him harder to show that I'm the stronger one.

Sex with Spinner, right? Why in the hell would that ever occur to be a fun thing? He's so uncoordinated and oddly shaped. There's no way he can be good, or even decent. Okay, he's the kind of person you kick out of your bed before the first two minutes because it sucks that bad. But I guess he isn't, once you do get him in bed. He's better than decent, although not as good as good. And he's a lot better than nothing.

I roll over onto my back and light a cigarette. I offer him one, and he shakes his head no. "How's Manuela?" I ask, and my voice is so scratchy that I barely choke it out.

"Still abstinent. What's with your voice?"

I shrug. "Must happen sometimes, after, you know, with the... mouth and sex. Coming together. It must make you lose your voice sometimes, I guess."

"That sounds stupid."

"You're stupid, Spinner. You're an idiot."

"That was totally out of nowhere, freak."

"I need to go," I stand up and throw on as many clothes as I can. "It's so fucking dead in this room."

I walk to his house and through the back door. Who cares if he's home, or if he's not? I need the air of this fucking house. I open his door, walking in on Emma and him in the middle of what looks and sounds like amazing sex. I stand with my mouth gaping open as Emma tries hurriedly to cover herself up.

"Alex, what the fuck?" Jay screams.

I suddenly find the situation very hilarious, and I'm no longer embarrassed. I lean against the door frame, laughing hysterically at the two. Jay looks about to crack, and Emma burrows into his chest on the verge of tears. "Sorry," I croak out as I turn on my heel and walk out, "can't talk."

"And I'm so sore, my voice has gone to hell,
and this is one more sleepless night.
Because we don't believe in filler baby.
If I could I'd sit this out."

"I'm going to kill you, you fucking slut," he says jokingly as he jumps on my bed and ends up lying down next to me.

"It's your fault you don't lock your doors when you fuck Barbie."

"You need to learn what a phone is for, and how to knock."

I shrug and bury my face in two of my pillows. "It was so funny though, the look on her face when I just stood there laughing at you. I thought she was going to kill me, and then herself, and then me again. I was looking forward to it, actually."

"Emma's not an angry person."

"But she's violent, eh? She sounded like she was hurting you."

"Shut up, psycho slut. Maybe I should walk in randomly on you with the fat kid. Now, that, would be funny. He'd be too out of breath to talk."

"Better than you."

"Is that supposed to make me jealous? Too bad it doesn't."

"Too bad I don't care."

"Liar."

"Get out of my house."

"Sure thing. I need to go have amazing sex anyways."

"I'm going to tell the whole school. I bet Barbie would get real happy about that one."

"Then I'll tell your new best friend, Paige, about how you're fucking her ex-boyfriend. She'd get just as happy about that."

"Night, Jay."

"Sweet dreams, Lexie."

He pushes my door open and I curl up into a ball on my bed. He leans in the doorway for awhile, but I make no movements that would signal me being awake at all. "Yea, night," he repeats in a low whisper before finally leaving my house.

"This is over when I say it's over.
This is a lesson in procrastination.
I kill myself because I'm so frustrated."

"Alex," Emma says pulling me as I come out of the MI Lab.

"'ello Barbie! Good morning, eh? It's a great morning for sex, if I can say so unhindered."

"Alex, shh, don't act all freaky."

"What did you need, Emma? I have a test third period."

"Only a moment of your time, Alex. I'm sure you'll pass the test with flying colors anyway."

I give her an icy glare that read obviously 'get to the point.' "Listen Barbie, I'm not really in the mood for your sugarcoated insults today. If you want something, just ask me. If not, I'll be leaving now."

I push my way past her, eyes set on the library, but she grabs my arm. "That thing that you walked in on yesterday, with Jay and I..."

"Save your breath, I really couldn't care less."

"Alex, the thing is, I don't want anyone thinking I do that all the time."

"Even though you do?"

She stares at me, opening her mouth a few times, but closing it again without speaking a word. "That's not really the point."

"Don't worry, Emma," I spit her name out of my mouth, "I have better things to do with my time than defame your character."

I walk away from her in disgust. "Thanks Alex," she calls to my back. I stick up my middle finger before disappearing into the library.

"And every single second that I put it off,
means another lonely night I got
to race the clock.
I ignore it and it ignores me too."

I get into the front seat of the Civic, not even bothering to wait for Jay. He never locks his doors; what does he have to keep under lock and key? He slams the door open and closed after he gets into the driver's seat.

"What's up, slut? I take it you need a ride."

I shrug. "Sometimes I hang out in loser's cars to see how much shit I can jack. But I guess I can settle for a ride."

"I'd rather have it jacked." We hit the highway, and I light one of my cigarettes and I hold it out the window. "It's fucking cold outside, you know," he states matter-of-factly.

"No shit, sherlock."

"Then hurry that shit up and roll up the window."

"You're no fun since you stopped smoking."

"I was never any fun before that, either."

I shrug in agreement. "Shouldn't drive so fast," I say glancing at the speedometer racing against 150 km/h.

He forces a laugh. "Why? Because the cops might pull me over? I trust the Civic to kick a squad car any day."

"There's also that whole crash-and-burn issue."

He accelerates even more. "Scared?"

"Only slightly," I say emotionless. But the truth? So scared. So scared I want to cry.

He slows down since I don't seem to care. He shifts around uncomfortably as he gets off at my exit. The exit to my house, not his. "I would ask you over," he says reading my thoughts, "but I'm going to Emma's."

"But of course," I say in my best French accent. "Elle est trés jolie et polie et gentille. Je suis... je ne suis pas rien. À côté d'elle, je ne suis pas rien."

"You know I hate it when you speak foreign languages."

"It's the most romantic language on the planet. C'est la langue de l'amour."

"Set la la I don't understand!" he says mocking me.

"You don't want to know what I'm saying."

"I bet I don't."

I roll my eyes as he rolls down my street. "Hanging out with Mason tonight?"

"Yea. I think I'm going to tell him deal's off."

"The sex one?"

He stops in front of my house. "Yea. It doesn't make sense, us together. And she's Emma's friend, right? I don't want to make Emma uncomfortable or awkward."

"Sure," he says as I step out of the car. "Since you've always based your decisions on what Emma wanted."

"Hey, the whole school hasn't heard the 'Emma's-pregnant' rumor yet, so be thankful."

He locks the doors and speeds down my street. I turn and rush in to the house to call Paige. I guess I just give myself great ideas sometimes.

"What say we go and crash your car?
And every time I leave you go and lock the door.
So I walk myself picking at a chip on my shoulder,
I'm another day late and one year older.
It's failure by design."

"Coming!" I call out my window. I hurry and throw on some hoop earrings and a tiny bit of mascara. I guess there are certain times when you need to dress up. My long, tight black shirt comes to a slanted stop around my knees, where an old pair of jeans lie holed and ragged, setting the outfit. I pick up my messenger bag and throw it over my shoulder before running outside.

Spinner's standing against his car, and as soon as he sees me, he whistles loudly. I cover my face to hide the blush that's starting to form. "Hurry up," he says grabbing my arm and pulling me against him. "Reservations are at 8."

He opens the door for me, and I slide in. It's crazy how we're acting like a normal couple. He felt me pulling away, so he booked us a hotel room to connect better. And, of course, a fancy dinner to set the whole evening off right. Not like it changes anything. One just doesn't turn down free food. Ever.

He leads me into "Brasserie Frisco" with one hand permanently attached to my back, and the other used for opening doors and performing other gentlemanly acts. He pulls out the chair at our table, and our hostess lights the candle between us. "Merci beaucoup," I say to the her.

She nods and walks off, and I laugh slightly. "What's so funny?" Spinner asks.

"Who would ever guess that you and me, Spinner and Alex, would be sitting in one of the most expensive French restaurants in town? I mean, face it, you have trouble with English."

"It's nice though, right?" he asks. "You like it? I mean, do you not like French food?"

"Are you kidding? I've been looking forward to Crème Brulee all day."

He laughs at my French accent again. He takes my hand across the table, and I smile lightly, not wanting to be rude. I hate PDA. I've never liked it, not even with Jay. But I don't deal with it, because in the long run, it doesn't matter that much.

"Spinner!" a voice calls from behind me. "Spin! Hey!" I turn around and come face to face with Manny Santos. The blush in my face can't be hid at this point, and her expression goes from shock to recognition to anger in a matter of seconds. "And, Alex? Spin, why aren't you working? What are you doing?"

I look back at Spinner, and he's totally defeated. He stands up and walks towards her, arms outstretched, but she just shakes her head disbelievingly. "You promised," she whispers. She turns and joins her family, her head in her hands. He picks me up by my arm and leads me outside. "We better leave now. I don't want her dad to come kill me or anything."

We walk up the stairs of the cheap motel quietly, neither of us wanting to state what's on our minds. I know he needs me now; he's going to cling to me like fabric softener. This was never supposed to go so far. He unlocks the door, and I jump on him. It's my way to deal with stress.

He pushes me off softly. "I'm not in the mood, sorry. Let's just go to sleep."

I stand at the sink taking off my makeup. In the mirror, I see him dejectedly strip and crawl into bed. This can't all be my fault.

"And we just want sleep, but this night is hell.
I'm sick and sunk and I blame myself,
because I make things hard and you're,
just trying to help."

I screech at my car, trying desperately to get it out of 5th gear. Damn it's stickiness. I sigh and search my pockets desperately for $5, knowing I need at least that to get some gas in this beast of a car.

I get it to the gas station, thankfully, and sit on my trunk as it goes to 10, which I manage to scramble enough ones and quarters and pennies to get. A car pulls in next to me, and the queen of quirkiness gets out of the passenger's side. I glance casually at the driver, a short thirty-ish woman with short, dark hair counting out enough money to fill her tank. Emma's mother.

Emma looks over at me and smiles sweetly as she opens the gas tank. "Hey Alex. How are you?"

I smile sarcastically back. I guess Manny hasn't come crying to her yet, and no one's asked her how far along the baby is. I chuckle to myself lightly. "I'm great, Emma, just dandy."

Her smile fades a little, and I guess she remembers what Manny told her. "How's Spinner?" Her voice betrays a bit of animosity, but mostly it's awe at how I can do something like that without worrying a bit about other people's "feelings."

"He's fine." I smile to myself, thinking of all the disgusting and perverted things I could say, but I restrain. "And Jay?"

She nods a little, and I take the pump out of my car. "He's amazing. Why did you ever let him go?"

Hmm, little whore, I only ask myself that question every single second of my existence. "I guess we just weren't as compatible as you two. Anyways, we're great friends."

"That's great, Al." Al? What. The. Hell?

"Um, I have to pay," I say holding up my concoction of currency.

"Of course," she says. I walk past her and into the gas station. I hand my money to the clerk, and he makes me wait as he counts it out. So I stare at her for lack of anything else to stare at. She taps her foot to an unheard rhythm, and it makes me chuckle slightly. She really is a cute girl, if you like that wholesome goody-goody image. Sean and Jay both dig it tremendously. Maybe I should die my hair blonde.

"Here, you gave me a dollar too much," the cashier says sliding it over.

I grab it gratefully. "Thanks," I mumble. I get into my car and flash Emma a wave before driving off. Eh, she's growing on me a bit.

"I got no gas, I'm winding out my gears.
This is one more day on the verge of tears.
And now my head hurts and my health is a joke.
And now I got to stop cause the headphones broke."

Spinner approaches me in the Caf as I'm in the middle of some grand story about English class and asks to talk to me. I leave my table and join him in the courtyard. "Sorry I haven't talked to you since, well, you know..." he starts.

"It's fine, Spin. I've been busy anyways."

"It's not fine. I've acted like the biggest dick ever, and you don't deserve that. I've been trying to explain everything to Manny, while I should be spending my time with you."

"Spinner, maybe it's for the best that we take that as the biggest omen ever. Maybe we should just walk away now before either of us gets hurt."

He takes a step back, and total grief fills his face. I feel bad, but hell, that's life. "You don't think I'd get hurt if you walked away now? Alex, I'd be devastated."

"This wasn't supposed to go on for as long as it did."

"But it did, and it's been amazing. Please, Lexie, don't turn away from me. I want to be with you."

My eyes widen. Did he just call me Lexie? The name only Jay has ever been allowed to call me? Because I really want to pretend he didn't. "Spinner, this isn't working out."

"Alex, I love you."

I tilt my head back in laughter before I can control it. "You stupid little man, you don't even know what love is. Please."

I turn on my heel and storm out before he can stop me.

"And we don't believe in filler.
Baby, if I could I'd sit this out.
This is over, when I say it's over."

I sit on my bed nonchalantly painting a crimson onto my toenails. Jay is sitting cross-legged on my chair, and Emma's lying next to it on the floor. "I can't believe he told me he loved me. Poor fuck, doesn't even know what love is."

"What a creep," Emma adds. "I can't believe he's been playing you and Manny like that."

"Yea," I agree. "Damn, I can't get this foot. I have some shaking problem or something."

"Here," Emma says as she crawls onto my bed. "I'll get it." She takes the bottle out of my hand, and expertly paints on the color.

"Thanks," I say. I lean over to blow them dry. "They always look like shit when I do them."

"No problem," she says and falls back into position at Jay's feet. "I'll have a talk with Manny. Since she was in your position last year, I'm sure she'll understand that you were played just as bad as her."

Um, yea, I'm dying to have Manny's forgiveness. No, really, I think I'll live. "Thanks," is all I manage to say.

"No problem. Now, I want to fix you up with a real guy. What about JT?"

Great. Emma, the amazing matchmaker. "I don't know who that is."

"Yorke? He used to date Manny. He's a total cutie, in his own way."

"Oh, the short kid? Yea, he seems to innocent for me. I think I like to get played, it a way."

"That doesn't make sense, Al. No one likes to be hurt."

"It does make sense," Jay says, adding his first comment to the conversation. "Alex loves to be hurt. She goes out of her way to hurt herself, and she will hurt other people in the pursuit of hurting herself."

Emma gives him a weird look, and I just fall back on my bed in fits of giggles. "That's so right Jay," I manage between laughs, "that's so dead on."

He shrugs and puts his head back, massaging Emma again. She looks between him and me, totally baffled. "There's a lot I'm missing here."

"It's all I am, Emma Nelson. I pursued Spinner. I knew he was dating Manny, and I didn't care. I needed to get over Jay, and I needed the sex. I took advantage of the fact that she had an abortion and wouldn't have sex, and I used that to my advantage. Isn't that just the sickest thing you've ever heard? I couldn't handle commitment, so I almost flipped when he told me he loved me. I really wish I loved him, you know? It would make this whole damn thing so much easier."

Emma stares at me for a good five minutes before responding. "Are you bi-polar? Or are you just high?"

"Man, I'm not, but I so wish I were."

"This is a lesson in procrastination.
I kill myself because I'm so frustrated.
And every single second that I put it off,
means another lonely night I gotta race the clock.
I ignore it and it ignores me too."

"Spinner! Slow down!" I yell over the roar of the engine and some unnamed band blasting through the speakers. The car begins to shake a little since it can't take the speed, and Spinner doesn't care; he lets his knees do the driving. "Spinner! This isn't any way to deal with this! What do you want me to do?" The desperation and fright is now evident in my voice.

"Tell me you love me." He stares straight ahead, and I leave the silence to hang for a few awkward moments. "Damnit Alex!" he yells accelerating. "Tell me you love me like I love you!"

Tears start out of my eyes. I can't die like this. Why is he doing this? What did I get myself into? "I love you, Spinner!" I finally say conceding to his victory. "I love you," I repeat, softer, into the noise.

He slows down to well under the speed limit and gets off at the next exit. He stops in an abandoned parking lot and starts to weep. I wrap my arms around him because I need the comfort of human touch, too. We weep together. It would be a beautiful thing if my heart weren't still racing and my palms not still sweaty.

His tears make my hair wet, but I won't let go. "I'm so sorry," he chokes out. "I didn't want to hurt you. I'm so fucking messed up." We sit in silence other than the sound of his tears falling. "Did you mean it? Do you love me?"

"Spinner, give me the keys," I say with a great amount of authority. I sit up and stare at him, holding out my hand. "The keys, Spin." He obliges slowly. I sigh as soon as I get them. "I don't, I'm not in love with you, but you're not in love with me, either. You only think you are. Please don't make this into something it's not."

His voice fills with rage and hurt. "You have no idea what you're talking about." I stay calm although I only want to run away. Far away from this life where emotions run high, and every thing's run by them. I pull the handle on the door, and the click seems to make him break down again. "Don't walk away," he says in a low whisper.

"I can't do this, Spinner. I'm sorry you got so attached. I don't love you. I'm not capable of love. I'm only capable of hurt." I throw the keys back into the passenger's seat before slamming the door closed. I walk away slowly, no idea where I am or where I'm going. Why the hell do people do that? Fall in love, with me. I'm no good to anyone. I'm no fucking savior.

"What say we go and crash your car?
And every time I leave you go and lock the door.
And I walk myself picking at a chip on my shoulder.
I'm another day late and one year older,
it's failure by design."

"Tell me that you come here every fucking day because you want to fuck me and ruin everything I have with Emma. Then you might not be lying."

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. "Whatever. She wouldn't have to know." I'm only kidding, but he sees past that. He knows that I'm never just kidding.

"Do you really want that? To just be used and forgotten?"

I tilt my head so it's hanging off his bed. "What would be new about that?"

He laughs his husky laugh and returns his attention to the TV. We're laying in a cross so that my butt in on top of his lap, but we're in two different directions. "What if your precious little girlfriend comes by and finds us like this?" I ask.

He shrugs. "She trusts you."

I laugh at this. "Why? God, after my last performance, I'm surprised she hasn't tried to exorcize the devil out of me yet."

"She has to like you. You're here like, constantly, or I'm at your house."

"Are you calling me a stalker?" I ask, leaning up and sitting cross-legged facing him.

"Your words, not mine."

"Shut up. So Spinner went psycho again."

"What did he do?" he asks laughing.

"Just, went psycho. Almost killed me. Made me tell him I loved him, but then I took it back and he went all hysterical. So I had to walk home, or here, as the case may be."

"I've never liked him much." I climb on top of him and my face is inches from his. He shifts uncomfortably under me. "Um, hey Alex."

I laugh in his face. Not the time for playing goody-two-shoes here, Jay. I greedily start biting his neck, and I'm so relieved when he doesn't stop me. He doesn't know how bad I need this. I move my mouth up to his and hungrily taste him. He pushes his kiss against me roughly, and it feels so good. I forgot what it was like to be with anyone but Spinner. I push my legs against his to keep him from moving. I stop kissing him long enough to get his pants around his ankles. "You're my fucking drug, Jay. You can't take this away from me."

"I'm out of everything.
No one sleeps until we get this shit out on the shelves.
It's late, I'm faltering.
but this time I got nothing to say besides...
Do do do, do do do."

I let go of his shoulders which I had been clutching for the past five minutes. I move my hands slowly around his chest, still trying to take in this sin I had just committed. He grabs my hands in his own and kisses each fingertip.

I bring my forehead down and touch his to mine. I kiss him lightly again. He rubs my arms after feeling my shiver against him. "I have to call her now," he whispers.

I bow my head in defeat. "But of course."

"Baby, I'm better than this."

"Why do you keep coming back to me? If this isn't love, I mean," Spinner asks, ringing his hands together nervously. We're sitting in his car in the parking lot of the movie theater, so I reach to turn the heat up.

"Because I want to love you, really. It's just harder for me, and you have to keep trying. If you give up, you'll never get anywhere."

He nods, my words maybe starting to make some sense. "Are you ready?" he asks.

I nod. He turns off the car and hurries around to open my door. He helps me out and puts his arm around my shoulders to keep me warm. We hurry inside and the heat is welcomed, although it wouldn't kill the theater to invest in some more.

Spinner buys our tickets even though I fight him on it. Every time. I hate feeling inferior to anyone, especially a guy, and especially one who needs the money. He wraps his arm around me again, and even though it's not necessary, I kind of like it. I guess I'm going soft.

We walk past the ticket counter. "There they are," Spin says, pointing with his free hand.

I give a small wave, and she waves back. I guess it's about time I grow up and start to deal with the fact that I'm never getting him back. Ever. I guess I should just be happy that I'm in his life at all.

"This is over, when I say it's over.
This is a lesson in procrastination.
I kill myself because I'm so frustrated.
And every single second that I put it off,
means another lonely night I
gotta race the clock.
I ignore it and it ignores me too.
And I walk myself picking at a chip on my shoulder.
I'm another day late and one year older, I'm a failure by design."