Viva Forever

Summary: This story follows Alex and Paige through their senior year of high school. It mainly takes place in the gaps in between episodes. It's an attempt to fathom what made Palex the glorious wonder that it is.

Chapter 1 - Alex

I was trying to get to sleep early tonight. I would like to start this year off right, you know, show up on time and alert. It's my last year, I want to finish with a bang. I'll be graduating, like actually getting a diploma and all that. It'll be my first big step away from turning out to be just like her. I can hear her in the other room right now, she's screaming at him again. My mother picks some of the worst guys she can find to fill the void in her life. For some people, taking care of your daughter just isn't enough. Some people need men, they need bad boys; they need a good hard fuck. It's times like this when I truly hate my mother.

"Get out of my house!" She's screaming. Glass shatters on the wall near my room. I assume she's throwing things at him.This isn't uncommon in my house.

"Your house?" he yells right back at her, "Who pays the rent? I DO." Bang, bang, crash. He's hit her, and now I have to get involved. I rush out of my room. He's standing over her with his fist raised. I can feel the tension in the room. If it was in color the room would be swirling around in a dizzy mixture of red and gray. My heart is pounding in my chest, I'm afraid he's going to swing at her again. She's crumpled up against the wall, just sobbing curse words. She's obviously drunk again, and he's no better. I can literally smell the liqueur on their breath. He grabs her by her shirt and slams her into the wall forcefully before I can react.

"Stop!" I scream. And I'm there pounding on his back with my fists. I don't hit like a girl, but right now that's exactly what I feel like, a little girl. He's drunk, so he hardly even acknowledges me pounding away on him. He backhands me, just like he would a pestering fly, and I fall backwards onto the couch. My cheek stings fiercely where his knuckles have slammed into it, I can taste blood. I don't care about me though, he's hitting her again, and again. I'm here, but I don't feel like I'm here. It's like I'm watching it through someone else's eyes. Someone else. Right now I'd give anything to be someone else. I get up and throw my arms around his neck with all my might, I have to get him away from my mom. Strangling him works better than hitting him did, he's stumbling backwards trying to pry me off. Then he's landed on top of me, and my ribs take a blow even harder than my face had. I let go of him and struggle to get in between him and my mother. She's nearly unconscious now, blood is running down her face. I hate to see her like this, I can hardly believe I would even think I hate her. She needs me. She's done her best trying to raise me. This isn't her fault, it's his. It's him that I hate. Dave. Her newest boyfriend, a rebound from the notorious Chad. Dave is one of the worst yet, I've found very few redeeming qualities in him. Standing in between him and my mother now, I can see absolutely no reason in the world why anyone would want such a scum bag to touch them.

"Just leave us alone!" I cry at him. I'm not going to back down. Men like this can't just go around scaring women into taking their shit. No one has to take this. No one. He stares me down, he wants to hit me, I can see it. If he hits me I'll hit him right back. I'll tear his mom-beating throat out like a rabid dog. He'll regret the day he took on Alex Nunez. I'm just daring him to hit me again, I won't cower; I won't even blink. Bring it on ass-wipe. His eyes dart to my mother as she groans my name. It registers in his expression; he realizes what he has just done. He's beaten her, and he's hit me. That's a serious domestic violence charge, and he's in trouble.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are." I say sarcastically. They're always sorry, and they'll always do it again. I'm not an idiot. "Just go."

"I really am sorry. Did I hurt you? Do you need a ride to the hospital? Let me take you both in, please?" His concern is sickening. He hits someone then thinks bandaging it up will fix it? An 'I'm sorry' does not un-do the damage. I just want him out of my sight, looking at him makes me want to hurl. He seems to understand the look on my face, because he ends his offers with "Have your mother give me a call, okay? Okay Lexi?" Everyone who knew me as a kid calls me Lexi. He calls me Lexi because my mom calls me Lexi. I'm not fond of the nick name, though I never tell anyone that.

"Whatever." I tell him with a glare. He lets himself out, and I instantly dropped to the floor right next to my mother. I check to see how badly she was hurt. She is bleeding pretty steadily from a cut next to her right eye, it looks like it might need stitches. "Hey, mom? I'm going to call a cab, stay awake okay?" I need her to stay conscious, if she has a concussion passing out could be fatal. She nods to me, and I go fetch the phone.

I call a cab, then I gather my stuff up for school. It's not much, just a backpack, some paper and pens. I throw the backpack over my shoulder, knowing I'm not going to get a wink of sleep tonight. I help my mom to her feet. Most of her weight is on me as I carefully walk her out of our shitty apartment complex. She's still sobbing, and smelling strongly of booze. I look sadly up at our window, I was suppose to be in bed right now. It's nearly 1am. It was a silly goal, wanting to start this year off different. Things don't change, this is the story of my life. No matter how many times this kind of thing happens I seem to forget it's a useless battle, and I start dreaming of possibilities. Dreams shattered again. The cab arrives, and takes us straight away to the emergency room. I have to pay the driver, of course. Let me tell you, cabs aren't cheap.

It's a long wait in a very uncomfortable chair. My mom apologizes to me a hundred times over, before they take her into the back. No matter how many times she says sorry, it doesn't un-do my lost night, and it doesn't un-do the bruises that both of us will have in the morning. I tell her it's okay though, I reassure her that everything is going to be alright. Right now, she needs the reassurance, not an angry outburst about her choice of loser boyfriends.

The hours are dragging on and on. She is checked into a room and of course she's telling them that it was all an accident. I roll my eyes. How is there ever suppose to be justice in a world like this? In a world where abused women protect their fucking abusers? I go back out to the waiting room, rather than listing to this bull-shit. I'm getting tired. I have school, and then work tomorrow, well later today. Paige is on shift with me. I'm going to have to listen to all of the gossip she picked up on the first day of school. She talks to me like I actually care about that crap. Gossip queen Paige. I guess gossip is utterly worthless if you don't have listeners though. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

I wake up with a terrible creak in my neck. I twist my neck and it pops loudly. I had fallen asleep in the little cramped chair, how I managed that I'll never know. A sickly old man is sitting next to me, and he's giving me the grossest look I've ever seen. It's like his toothless face is checking me out. I scowl at him, I'm not afraid to let him know how disgusting I think he is. Old pervs checking out teenager girls in waiting rooms... it's just wrong. Can my night get any worse? It's not night anymore though, behind the sick man's head I can see the sun is shining brightly. It's past dawn, I look quickly to the wall clock. It's almost 7AM, I need to head out to school. I reach down for my backpack, but it's not where I left it. I scan the area quickly, it's not anywhere. I growl and hurry over to the counter. I tap on the window to get the woman's attention. She's on the phone, but she looks up at me.

"Did someone turn in a backpack?" I ask her. I sound a lot ruder than I'm meaning to be. The woman shakes her head at me, she's busy. I'm interrupting her precious time with my utterly worthless life problems. No wonder I sound rude, I'm friggin' pissed. I run my fingers through my hair, I'm feeling so frustrated right now. Why do I have such lousy luck? It must be a Nunez curse or something. Speaking of which, where is my mother? I tap on the plastic window again to get her attention, "Is Emily Nunez still in there?"

The woman flutters through some papers, and shakes her head again. That's all I get is a lame little head shake. Talk to me you bitch! I smack the plastic window with the palm hand, and the woman pulls back in surprise. She looks like she's about to call security, and that's all I need. I snarl at her before I storm out of the automatic sliding doors. The sudden brightness burns my eyes. The damned sun in the damned morning. I can tell I'm still very tired, the little sleep I had was only going to make my day harder. I have less than an hour to walk to school, so I start out.

I'm late, big woop. I get a smart ass remark from the teacher, and it takes everything I have to keep myself from snapping back. It's not like I didn't try to make it on time. I tried really fucking hard. Then I got a set of bruises, no sleep, and had my back pack stolen. I think it's the best start of a year I've ever had. NOT. People will never know what it's like to be me. No one gets me. No one.

At lunch I sit down with Paige and Marco. Hazel's there too, and I can't miss her little 'I'm better than you Alex' behavior. I get to hear all about Marco's travels, and it sounds like it was a blast. I wish I'd have the chance to travel to far away places, and live in an adventure like that. I know that's one of the silliest dreams I've ever had. I have too much here in Toronto I need to deal with. Paige is chipper too, she seems extremely happy to be here. At least some people can enjoy the first day of school. I have to say though, her mood and Marco's have a profound effect on my bad mood. All in all lunch cheers me up some. I start off to class with Marco at my side.

"What happened to your face Alex?" He asks me. He is always so full of worry, and always notices everything. It hadn't bruised that noticeably, and I can't help but be irritated by his questioning. It's not like I'm going to go around telling people that my mom was beaten last night. This puts my mood right back in the gutter.

"I got in a fight."

"With who?"

"Can you just drop it, okay?" I snap at him. He raises both of his big dark gay eyebrows at me. I know he sees through my tough girl act, but I don't care. I refuse to give in. He shrugs at me and says okay. He can assume whatever he wants, and again I don't care. It's not his business to know who bruised up my face. We part ways, and I can't say I'm sorry about it. He needs to learn to stay out of other peoples' business.

The rest of the day goes so slow I can hardly stand not ditching classes. When the final bell rings, I'm still not off the hook. I have a shift over at the theater to look forward to. All I can really think about was how much I want to hit the sheets. I'm so exhausted. This really is not a good way to go to work, but I really need the money. My part-time job keeps food in our fridge. Welfare cash only goes so far when your mom spends it all on booze. I know can't live off of alcohol alone, even if my mom can. So I buy the food. Sometimes I have to pay the bills too. It's no big deal though, we're living better than we used to. It's nice to think I'm changing things, even if it's very slowly.

There's one good thing about work tonight. I won't be alone with Meeri, the ice-queen. There Paige is, already working the register. I glance at the clock, I've only got precious seconds before I'm officially late. Luckily, I make it. I already had a warning for being late once this summer. Three mess ups and it's out the door. Not that I want this shit job, but as I've already said a zillion times -I need the money.

"Enjoy your movie" Paige tells her customers before turning to me. She's giving me that look. I don't know how to describe it, but it's a look that always makes me fidget. "You're late." she says. I roll my eyes dramatically, I knew it would make her laugh. She drops the look instantly and smirks. She changes to subject to her beloved gossip, "Did you see what Heather Sinclare was wearing today? Beyond ew. If she thinks she's going to get Prom Queen with that style, she's in another reality all together. Don't you think?"

"Right, yeah." I nod. I don't care about this gibberish, and I knew it would be coming. I know it will keep coming too. She keeps talking, in between having to fetch people popcorn and soda-pop, of course. I'm only half-listening, smiling and nodding to most of it. I find that just watching her excitement about such mundane bull-shit actually keeps me awake. Every once in a while I get to crack a snide joke that makes her laugh too, waiting for those moments keeps me alert.

"You look... tired." She says to me as we're closing up the concession stand, "Insomnia last night?"

"Sure" I shrug. I'm not going to tell her my problems either.

"I only got about two hours of sleep last night" She tells me. She's just about as tired as I am, but this is news to me, because she had been talking my head off all night long. I look at her like she's crazy. I know she wasn't in any hospital waiting room all night long, she had no good reason to have been up all night. She does that nervous thing she does when she tells me something she normally wouldn't. I love it when she does that, it makes me feel like I'm just as human as she is. "I was worried, it kept me awake."

"What's there to worry about?" I scoff. I remember before the screaming and smashing, I had been fretting about school too. I wanted to make the year different, better. It was stupid to worry about.

"Come on Alex!" Paige exclaims as she tosses the rag she had been cleaning with into the trash can. I lean down and start to tie up the trash bag, listening to her answer. "What's there to not worry about is more like it. This is our last year of high school! It's University after this! This year has to be absolutely perfect. I'm applying to Banting, it's been my plan all along."

"Wait, Banting, the Harvard of the North? Why?" I couldn't help it. That was shooting for the stars. Paige was really something. One minute I start to think I'm human like she is, and the next she proves just how much of an uncivilized beast I am. Banting University. I can hardly even think it without wanting to beat in some rich kid's face. Why? Because they had parents who took care of them. They had a cozy place to live. They had an allowance, and freedom. They learned how to drive, then got expensive designer cars for their fucking birthdays. A good beating is what they all need. It would show them a thing or two about the other side of the tracks. Rich little...

"It's only the best business school in this whole region, might I even be so bold as to say hemisphere. People who graduate from Banting have real futures ahead of them, and that future, the future of a Banting graduate, is mine."

"That sounds great Paige." I lie. I just want to go home and go to sleep, "Do you think you're mom'll give me a lift home?"

"Sure hon." She says kindly. And I smile my thanks back to her. Why does that make me smile? Why did that, of all things, make the built up anger of the day just fade away? I know why though. Paige, the popular girl who is destined to go off to rich kid college, actually considers me, a dirt poor freak, her friend. This has never happened in my entire life, I've always been the weird-girl, the freak. I guess that is a good reason to smile. This year is different in at least one way. This year I'm closer to being normal.