My father had told me it wouldn't be so bad. Though a Friday evening wasn't the day I would've chosen. I'd rather chill on a Friday night and listen to music, but the driving courses happened to be today. Sadly. He saw it coming and reassured me it was only theoretical for the moment. I'm not going to drive for now. I just must learn basic stuff, naturally. It's better than crashing into the bushes, I guess. It's probably what'll happen, what will cause my end. I have to stop thinking about those things. It's useless.

I can't stop myself. I can't imagine myself driving to cegep without doing something stupid. I suppose I'll need to be extra cautious when practical courses will arrive. Fortunately, I must sit there for an hour. It's not exciting, yet it's not that bad. The idea of strolling through the streets with my dad's old Honda civic is quite peculiar. I've only had that in mind today. I barely watched the courses. Of course, I did notice the same looks, the way Ann-Marie seems to believe she had control over me. I do not know if she does, but I want to make sure she doesn't believe that. Although she always will.

There's something different about her lately. She's not any kinder, but she's worse than she's ever been. She keeps whispering with Stephany and Riley, snickering weirdly. I caught her staring at the student council poster earlier. She even decided to sign herself on the list and winked at me. Was that an invitation? I do not know. Ann-Marie surely expects me to go there, on the stage, so she could embarrass me. I printed my name as well, but my plan remains unknown. I just want these rumors away.

Even the girls are suspicious about whether it is the truth or not. They know it isn't my type to do something like that, yet Ann-Marie's picture seemed realistic to them. I had shown my vulnerability, yet they can't seem to shake off the thought that it might've been me acting so I could keep their friendship. But it doesn't matter. I try not to think about it. My dad drives me there at seven, wishing me luck. I enter the building and sit in the room, watching around me.

There are other teens, some of them younger than me. The teacher should arrive soon. I'm on time. After a while, a man barges in, slightly sweaty, with disheveled brows, wearing a grey polo. He looks nervous. He grins sheepishly and drops his books on the table before he starts.

"I'm sorry that I made you guys wait." The man admits with a sigh, "There was a lot of traffic on '401. It's time to make the call. Amanda Chase?"

"Present."

"Rusty Griffin?"

"Yup."

"Melissa Hayes?"

"Affirmative."

"Nora Jones?"

"Yes."

He calls out the other names, but I'm a little distracted. Once he finishes the attendance, he nods and pulls the list away, opening his manual as he shows us a PowerPoint on the screen. The man clears his throat and our eyes meet, and he seems happy to see that I am focused.

"Very well. I'll learn the basics today. No professional stuff, don't you worry. This is mainly an introduction of what we'll learn throughout those courses. Once we learned everything we had to know for the first half, we'll go practical. Then, an exam, after that comes other theoretical courses then another exam. If you guys fail-which is very possible, you can just retry. Get it?"

We all nod in agreement. He smiles and adjusts his glasses, reading a little before he shows us what he sees, not giving us the answers. Visibly, he'll ask us questions to see how much we know and if we're on the right track to start practical courses.

"Miss Hayes. Tell me why I should hold the steering wheel while driving."

"Well, it's more cautious. If you're going too fast, you can easily gain the control if you're ready to turn with both of your hands on the steering wheel." Melissa replies hesitantly.

"Partly. But we don't want the wheel to spin around too, and we also want control. I'll give you the convenient answer. Bravo, Melissa. For the others, note this either on a sheet of paper or on the back of your mind. Now. Nora, where can we overtake the road? How?"

I copy it in my notebook, knowing well I won't be able to remember it considering how much thoughts I have. When he asks me, I hesitate for a moment. I'm not sure, I'm not a pro at that. Though I have observed my father's behaviour while driving, and I'm quite confident since this isn't an exam. Yet this is stressful, questioning us like this to see our capacities and understandings. So, I decide to give in to my thoughts.

"Well, you must warn the driver behind you that you want to change paths." I speak calmly, trying to sound confident, "but you can't do it anytime. The lines must be dotted. You start by flashing the indicator, then you swiftly change paths."

He nods and smiles, agreeing with my answer. He then turns to another boy, but I'm too focused on noting down the things that I had learned and being sure I understand. The man points at him, and he mutters in an abashed manner for a few seconds even before the teacher asks him something.

"Dylan Wilson? Can you tell me what are the differences of the signs? There is red, yellow, and green. What do they mean? What must you do under those circumstances?"

I freeze for a moment. Dylan? Like Dylan, my ex from that rumor, the one who cheated on me? I shake off the thought. There are other Dylans in Ontario. He isn't the only one. I don't dare to glance over to see what he looks like; in case it's him. Though I'm sure I have recognized that low mumble. After a moment, the boy speaks up.

"Well, red means you must stop. So, you stop. Yellow means you must slow down. So, you slow down. Green means you can go. So, you keep driving." Dylan says simply.

I watch him go on, noticing how deep and husky his voice is. That's odd. I resist the desire to shift and turn to see what he looks like, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if it's him, I'll just break down. Instead, I write what he had said, trying to ignore everything that runs through my head. I wonder if he remembers me. If he thinks about me. If he heard me while I talked and think to himself "Oh that's the tenth child I cheated on." That's enough. I think to myself. I must get this boy out of my head.

***

After the course, I immediately stand up, tired. It wasn't bad, of course, yet it still is a Friday night, and I want to get home as soon as possible. I just hate the fact that I can't spend that Friday alone chilling at home. But it's fine, considering how I'll have my driver's license and that it'll be useful in the future. It's already nine. I walk to the hallway, my mind filled with the thought of the weekend, when I feel a shoulder brushing against mine. It wasn't an accident. I look over, just to see Dylan.

Dylan, that Dylan. He still wears his charming smile, though age made him gorgeous. It isn't enough to relive the feelings I had for him, but enough to make my heart throb. He grew up, and quite beautifully. His gaze grew sharper, his hairstyle more defined and his figures too. I try to look away and keep walking, but I can't shake off my anger and the thought that this handsome teen used his appearance to toy with me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Nora." He tells me gently, his eyes wandering to my emerald eyes and my face, "I believe I have seen you somewhere before."

"Uh, at the classroom, perhaps." I blurt out awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't remember me. I did have a change in appearance since secondary one. Though I must admit my eyes are recognizable.

"Perhaps..." He confesses with his cliché Dylan-Wilson smirk, "Yet perhaps you're just pretending you don't know me. I'm sure you do remember secondary first, don't ya?"

"Shut up." I grumble angrily, my cheeks heating in anger, thinking about how I got played by this asshole, "I must get home, it's getting late."

"Whatever you say." Dylan purrs as he glances at me, "I'm sure you have heard Ann-Marie's going for the council thing, right?"

"Wait, how do you know her?" I ask in surprise, my eyes widening.

"Oh, let's just say we have relatives in common. I just do. See you around town, Nora Jones, soon to be Nora Taylor! Oh, Ann-Marie wouldn't like that. Nora Wilson sounds better!"

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"Or Ann-Marie Taylor. Sounds like a great match. Now I bet you wonder what's our plan, huh? See you around town..."