tommygirl: (joa - quotes)
[personal profile] tommygirl
Title: Remembering the Old Days
Author: Tommygirl/[livejournal.com profile] storydivagirl
Fandom: Joan of Arcadia
Written For: [livejournal.com profile] sexonastick for the Female Gen Ficathon, with the request of wearing it in and absolutley no completely ignoring Adam's existence.
A/N: Much love to [livejournal.com profile] ladybug218 for the beta and assurance that I can still write in this fandom. Also, I sorta cheated with the prompt and made it more "wearing her down" - sorry, but I went with the muse. Feedback always appreciated.



Remembering the Old Days



If Grace has to listen to the “college is around the corner” speech one more time, she’s going to throw her guidance counselor out the window. She finds it hard to trust someone who chose a profession like this, someone who will eternally be in high school. There’s something wrong with that picture – no one wants to be in high school, not even the pea-brain jock gods.

She shuts her eyes as Mr. Delarosa babbles on about the importance of “taking a part in the high school experience” (does she look like a joiner to him?) and “thinking about a career” (She’s pretty sure she can’t major in misanthropy). Grace bites down on her lip, reminding herself that this stupid meeting gets her out of gym class, at least, and resists the urge to comment about the inequality of the college admissions process. Instead she tilts her head back, keeping her eyes shut, and tries to think about better things than this.

Grace isn’t sure that there are better things to focus on, though. First, there are finals looming in the distance, with every teacher pointing out that if she messes up junior year she might as well plan on working at a gas station for the rest of her life. Then her mother continues to reach new levels of embarrassment thanks to her love of booze, and, of course, her friends suffer from the misconception that she enjoys their drama. Rove’s a complete spaz lately, wanting to hang out all the time as though he’s forgotten her rules about the need for personal space. Luke wants to celebrate the one-year anniversary of their first kiss like they’re that couple, the type that makes her throw-up in her mouth. And Joan...well, she’s Joan, all-over-the-place, intense, and annoying with her constant need to do something.

Doing things is overrated, especially when Grace gets dragged into it. Like how did she end up passing out flyers for a freaking talent show?

“Miss Polk?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any questions at this time about our plan of attack for the upcoming months?”

“Plan of attack? What are we doing? Taking over a third-world nation?”

Mr. Delarosa presses his arms into his desk and leans forward. He pushed pushes his glasses up and replies, “This is serious business, Grace. Your future is at stake. You need to make a list of prospective schools for our next meeting and you’ll also want to set up times with your parents to visit some of the campuses this coming summer.”

Yeah, that’s going to happen. It’s like the start of a bad joke: “The anarchist, the drunk, and the rabbi went to the college campus...” She’s handling her interviews and campus visits on her own. Grace already knows how her mother will react to any further proof that her little girl has grown up – she’ll see it as an excuse to down a bottle of Vodka and humiliate herself and Grace along the way. Her father will force lessons down her throat and want to travel down memory lane. No, she’s better off doing this on her own. It’s her future, after all.

Grace nods though. She doesn’t feel compelled to share this information with a guy with a scrunched up face. She says, “I already know the schools I want.”

It’s sort of a lie. It seems that even the good colleges are filled with pretentious losers that she’d rather avoid.

Mr. Delarosa nods and says, “Good. That’s good, but do some research, think about what you want to major in, and we’ll go from there.” Grace watches him scribble on a green pad of paper, tear it off, and hand it to her. “You’ll need this for your gym teacher.”

Twenty minutes of enduring this crap and she’s still expected to go to gym? There is something very wrong with the world.

**

Grace walks slowly down the hall. She’s in no hurry to get to gym class. It’s a stupid requirement that exists to torment those that could care less about organized sports. When the hell in her life will knowing how to serve a Volleyball ever be important? And don’t even get her started on the line dancing.

“Hey Grace.”

Grace spins around and there’s Rove with that normal befuddled look on his face. Somehow it suits him and Grace only worries, though she’d never admit it, when it’s missing for days at a time. “Rove, why aren’t you in class?”

Adam shrugs and says, “Mrs. G is sick and our substitute has us doing stupid water colors.”

Grace nods because she has no idea why water colors are so depressing, but Adam seems bummed. Grace says, “So you ditched.”

Adam nods. He’s never been a guy of many words. It’s why the two of them make such good friends. She’s not much for chatting about feelings and making plans for months in the future and Adam gets that. Or he might not, she never knows with Adam, but at least, he’s usually too caught up in his art to bother her.

“What about you?”

Grace holds up her green slip and says, “Stupid college meeting with the guidance counselor. As if I plan to take advice from a man working in this school...on purpose.”

“Joan mentioned her guidance counselor really helped her out.”

Grace rolls her eyes. “Girardi’s guidance counselor was also accused of improper relations with his students.” Grace slings her bag over her shoulder. She glances at Adam and remembers when things were so much simpler. It used to be the two of them, an existence where not much communication required and life sorta happened. Then Joan and her pesky family came along and screwed that all up.

Suddenly, Grace has another best friend – this one much needier of time and conversation than Adam – and then BAM, Luke worms his way into her life. If she’s not careful, before she knows it, Mr. and Mrs. Girardi will adopt her and take to calling her “kiddo.”

God, she’s not that close to her own family.

Her stomach lurches a little at the thought, but she can’t deny that she likes most of the things (or people) in her life. Things might have been simpler when it was just her and Rove, but Joan can be interesting and Luke never pushes her for more than she’s willing to give.

Joan and Luke have managed to wear Grace down. The two of them have changed Grace in ways she’s only starting to realize, and they did it in that tricky way of never trying to change her and accepting that she’s abrupt and anti-establishment and loathing of most things in general. It’s something she’s not sure she can explain, but she knows it’s true. And she doesn’t necessarily hate the fact that she’s been worn in like a shoe. That’s worth something.

“You okay, Grace?”

“Fine.”

“You sure ‘cause you’re staring off into space and that’s usually my thing.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Rove,” she snaps. She leans against a locker and looks at him. He meets her gaze and smiles. Yeah, that’s the work of those pesky Girardi’s and she can’t hate them for helping Adam, for making him better. She sighs and asks, “Do you remember how things were for us freshmen year? Hell, remember how much fun we had before Joan was assigned as our lab partner?”

Adam shrugs and Grace silently berates herself for going down this road with Rove so soon after the “break-up,” which was so bad that it deserves quotes whenever it’s mentioned. Grace is sick of getting caught up in the drama of the whole thing. She’s declared herself Switzerland. It’s something she loathes on most occasions because she’s always been able to choose a side in the past, always capable of seeing one side as right and the other as wrong.

But there she is...Grace Polk as Switzerland in the upcoming Joan Girardi Lifetime movie.

“Sure, I remember it,” Adam finally says. “I’m not sure how much fun it was.”

“It was a lot of fun. Me being all anti-people to everyone, including those with the last name of Girardi, and you being all quiet and creative...” Grace voice trails off. Suddenly, she’s not so interested in this conversation anymore. She shakes her head and says, “Nevermind. Stupid guidance counselors play with your head, dude. I’m convinced.”

“Or you’re paranoid.”

“I’m perceptive. There’s a difference,” Grace replies. She glances down at her watch before tugging on the strap of Adam’s bag. “C’mon, let’s head out to the quad.”

“Don’t you have class?”

Grace shrugs. “It’s not a real class. It’s gym. And that tyrant of a teacher will force me to change even though there are only like ten minutes left. No thanks.”

“But…”

“Rules were meant to broken. Classes meant to be ditched,” Grace replies. She shakes her head, trying to clear it of all the thoughts bogging down her brain at the moment. She spends too much time worrying about college and her friends and her relationship with Luke lately. Sometimes she misses these moments where it’s just her and Rove, once again the two deadbeats that everyone discounted long ago.

After all, once the bell rings, Joan will grab her and pull her into some melodrama and it will start all over again.

{Fin}

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