I think I found a way to clear my mind from Jules, from everything. I dunno why I have been freaking out this much lately. The way I treated Jules makes me feel bad, though I know he’s right; just by the way he looks at me sadly, with a hint of annoyance, I know he thinks Ann-Marie is implied. I agree, yet I don’t, all at the same time. She could be trying to mess this up somehow, though how would she? This manner would be long distanced, considering how I’m relatively oblivious to what happened. I hate being this clueless, this…powerless. On the other hand, I know I can’t do anything about it, and that I’m desperately searching for a change in the situation. Every time it doesn’t go the way I’d like it to be or that I’m in a weak position, I’m mad at myself.

As if I was my own weakness, as if I did a mistake, although each time it’s mostly someone else’s choice to begin with. I know, I know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s because it’s messed up in my own head. If I can’t even decipher my thoughts, that’s a huge problem, and I’m in deep. And I can’t do anything about it. For now. Well, I only must pray that Dylan won’t be this bad today. I’m having another driving course. Hopefully, I’ll get information, and I just know I’ll try to get some somehow. I keep focusing on the casual drama, though I barely give my family attention, which makes me feel worse.

My father, my grandparents, the only ones who can truly help me in any danger, and here I am, flustered by some simple stuff. It might not look this bad but living through this is worse than it looks. With the type of personality that I have, I keep messing up, as I always do. I’ll thank my father again for the driving courses, a particularly important detail for my future education. I don’t even mind if it was a year later than supposed if I’ll end up having a car one day. But as for the vehicle itself, I’ll take care of it; I can’t ask my father everything, always. I’m not much needy, but I can’t permit myself to do so. As my father starts the car and shuts the door, I check my phone, to see a message from Jules, and as soon as I see it, I can feel my heart dropping to my stomach, a wave of unease washing over me. I just know he’s disappointed in me.

“Don’t forget to tell me why. Why you act this way, alright. I don’t want to be mad at you, and I know I can be jealous at times. But don’t make me.”

I decide to leave it on read, so he knows that I acknowledge it. Though I know he might take it the wrong way, so I react to it with a thumbs up. I know, I should be taking more time to apologize and tell him how I feel, but I don’t have the guts. Not right now. That’s not what I should be doing, but I don’t have the time for it now. I stuff my phone back in my pocket, only to see Stephan watching me sadly, knowing well something is up. I can’t avoid it.

“Nora...Tell me what’s wrong. There’s something on your mind, I'm sure of it. Is it Jules? Did something happen with the girls? Did Ann-Marie place you in a bad position?” He asks me, his eyes filled with worry before he looks back at the road, flashing the indicator to turn the car left.

“Anything but with the girls.” I admit reluctantly, knowing well I promised him to tell him what’s wrong, and even if I trust him, I can’t bring myself to it, “Ann-Marie is still planning to get Jules back. And I don’t know what she’s attempting right now but it scares me.”

“Stay calm, Nora. That’s all I can tell you since I’d need to know more.” My father says, scrunching his nose as he curses at a driver being a bit too slow, before he shifts to me, “You can’t go around panicking and overthinking everything. Everyone wants people to like them, but you must stay true to your own self. Don’t change anything.”

I remain silent, agreeing with his comment. He’s more than right, I’m sure about it. As much as I’d like to do that, I can’t. I mean, I can, and I would, but only if I was feeling a bit better. I’m not on the verge of depression, neither on a breakdown, yet my overthinking mind makes me freak out and read the situation the wrong way. I can’t keep lying to myself and saying that I can’t do that; I can. As he stops and parks the car, I slam the door after me and give him a small smile, a small reminder that I love him and that I care about him.

***

“Why are you glaring at me like that, Nora?”

I snap out of it, looking away from my stupid ex and folding my arms over my chest. His gaze is still on me, I’m sure of it, by the way his posture loosens up and the husky laughter that escapes //his lips. I shudder slightly, remembering the reason I first began falling for him. But now, I don’t. I despise him sincerely, for everything he did to me, although he made me crazy something. This can be taken the wrong way...Or the right way.

“Focus, Jones.” Rusty whistles in front of me, shifting to lay his hands on the front of my desk teasingly.

“Shut it.” I retort, scowling at the random boy that dared to speak unexpectedly, like the world belonged to him and that he had all the rights to do that. I can’t lie, most of the boys do that.

“Why would I? I had to, or you’d miss your course. Not like I care, obviously. I just find it funny how you can’t snap of that breakup thing.”

“Stop sticking your nose in everything.” I snap, “That wasn’t even about you, so how about you just shut up and start caring about your own success?”

“Silence, you two. And that includes you, Wilson.” The teacher in front speaks roughly, making me stop talking, and his eyes linger angrily on me, “No talking while I am, Jones. That was the first warning out of three.”

Dylan pauses the moment he hears his name being called, his eyebrows knitting together as he leans back against his chair, a smug smile taking place on his lips as he looks at me blankly. He doesn’t even look mad; he looks quite amused. Which angers me, amusing Rusty, and himself. I clench my jaw, staring right ahead of me, ignoring my annoying comrades surrounding me. Even the girls seem to find them profoundly disturbing, as others are just staring at me as if I was the word stupidity itself, in other words the definition of a brat. Which I clearly am not, naturally.

“As I was saying...” The man states hesitantly, pursing his lips before shifting back to the board, “When you want to warn others, flash the indicator, and if you’re mad at a stupid move, spam the car hooter. Not for fun, though, people aren’t gonna like this.” He pauses, “In the worst cases, you might get arrested. And if you get arrested, you know what you must do? Don’t avoid it.” He crosses a line on the board to trace the car’s trail, “So you pull over. And when you do, be honest.”

“Well, anyone could create an illusion.” Melissa says, “What if someone decides to lie and tells the officer a story? Would they be arrested too?”

“That’s another story, Hayes. It depends if he thinks that you’re telling the truth and what kind of story you told him. But that’s something else.” he snaps back, tilting his head, “But you wouldn’t lie to an officer, would you? Don’t take any chances, the consequences will be less bad if you do remain honest. That’s all for today, children. See you next month, we’ll practice the theory on the road!”

The moment he announces that, everyone brutally stands up, grabbing their notes and their bags for those who do. I decide to do so slowly, considering how I do not have anything important after the course and that I don’t have to hurry for now. I watch Dylan and Rusty silently, knowing well they must be amused by the sight of me like that. This...distracted, somehow, but also so focused to see if they would be doing something wrong. Of course, they would do that intense glare, making me look over, only to make me flinch. Now that my ex has an ally, it doesn’t look so good to me.

“Halloween is coming. What will you be dressing like?” Griffin questions me, his voice a low hum as Dylan lets out a low chuckle in the background, “You should dress like a princess, since you’re so capricious.”

“You should dress like a clown, since you’re just a fucking joke.” I retort roughly, slamming my book closed, which echoes around the room.

“Woah, calm down there, gorgeous. I didn’t mean to hurt your ego.” The boy whistles, raising both his hands in surrender, “You got me, you got me there. Great comeback, princess.”

“Ooh..I think she’s more like the damsel in destress, and that Jules’ the prince charming.” Adds the guy I always used to admire, “He’ll give you up soon, you know that? Ann-Marie's plan is already working very well.”

I’m caught off guard for an instant, my fingers brushing against the paper of the manual as I insert the bookmark, making me have a small papercut. I curse under my breath and put it in my backpack, trying to keep a straight face and not showing any type of weakness. I feel my blood boiling at the thought of Dylan and Ann-Marie working together, yet I must say I am not surprised by the two of them joining their minds. They’re so alike. I’m surprised they haven’t dated yet.

“I don’t need your help. You can’t tame me, and you won’t ever be my Prince Charming. Don’t even think about it.”

***

When I thought I’d managed to get away from the guys, I seek the black-haired one standing outside, under the rain, facing a shorter girl with long blonde hair. My heart stops for a moment; does he actually have a girlfriend? I shake off the thought; it wouldn’t be him to have one for the moment, and I don’t even know why I react this way for such a stupid delusional idea. I look around, realizing my father isn’t there yet.  I walk outside, protecting myself with an umbrella over my head.

“So, how did she react?” Asks the feminine voice, seemingly annoyed by Dylan

“Oh, that went better than I thought it would.” He laughs weirdly, before sneezing and sighing, “My bad. So yeah, we tried the princess theory.”

“Princess theory?” She asks again, and I realize; Ann-Marie. Shit. What is she doing there, with him? I bet they planned their meeting, and that they surely knew that I was going to be out there, wanting to tease me, “That’s great. Knew she’d flinch. Please tell me you mentioned Jules. She often reacts to it.”

“Right, that’s not the point. Where’s the cash?”

“Found a way to steal it from my mum somehow.” She speaks in an evil tone, searching through her wallet and lending him five dollars, “I’ll lend you double if you manage to make her cry.”

Dylan scrunches his nose, “We said fifteen. I don’t get why you’d want to make her cry though. Isn’t it a bit extreme?”

“We haven’t dealt any dumber, sweetie.” Ann-Marie retorts coldly, arching a brow, “Five or nothing.  You might want me to take back all the cash, huh?”

“As long as I can get her back...Or Amelia.”

I flinch at the mention of the girl with the cherry-red hair, shocked he would bring her up. I didn't know they knew each other; how did they know each other if they weren’t at the same school? He’s quite far and the only reason why I see him is the driving courses that’s close to his place. I try to ignore it, knowing well Ann-Marie and Dylan have their own contacts and that I shouldn’t question it. And yet, this is growing more and more complicated. I start rushing to the car as I hear it honk, entering the vehicle, barely taking in my dad’s wise words as he drives off.

I then check my phone. More than ten unread messages from Jules. Shit.