Chapter Eleven

      “Trenty!” I shrieked, wrapping my arms around the tall boy before me.

      “Julesy!” he said back, in a mockingly high tone.

      “Sorry that I haven’t talked to you in, like, a week!” I apologized, releasing him. People were now staring at us, not that I realled cared. They could think whatever the heck they wanted. “But you know that I love you, right?”

      “Yeah, yeah. Still have that boyfriend of yours?” he questioned, pushing on my shoulder playfully.

      “Yeah, why?”

      “Because, normally, by this point we’d—haha! Weed. Get it? I’m so funny! Ha!” he decided to temporarily veer off into his own world. Trent had a tendency to get easily distracted. “What was I saying? Oh right, we’d be making out.”

      “No, bro, the old me would be making out with you, this one, will do no such thing,” I told him firmly.

      “You’re a pretty convincing actress, Jules. Be careful, though, I think people are actually starting to believe your good girl shit!” he whispered scandalously, as if it was a bad thing.

      “Oh, no! Whatever will I do? People thinking that I’m a normal girl who doesn’t give a shit what they think, and isn’t a total a slut? Such problem!” I said with a heavy dose of sacasm.

      “Well, when you put it like that…” Trent trailed off. “So, you said that you had something you wanted to show me, lemme see!” Majority of the time, Trent reminded me of a four year old on a Pixy Stix high. But, then again, that was one of the reasons why I loved him. He was Trent.

      “Do you have your guitar with you?” I asked eagerly.

      “Yeah, it’s in my locker,” he blinked.

      “Do you maybe want to go get it?” I suggested.

      “Why?”

      “Because T.J., it involves what I want to show you,” I rolled my eyes as his density.

      “Oh. I actually have class in five minutes, but after school you’ll show me. See ya, Julesy!” he bid, getting up, and leaving me in the solitude of my own thoughts, with a whirl of hormonal teens as drained out background music. Even with all the noise and constant movement, I somehow felt calm. My foot was rapidly tapping, and I felt someone lightly touch me.

      “Hey,” the individual said evenly. His exterior looked just as calm as me, but, in his eyes, I saw panic. It is such a weird concept: the boy who appeared tranquil on the outside was, in reality, the same boy who felt overwhelmed by everything going on around him. He really needed to learn how to drown it all out.

      “Hi, Logan,” I said quietly.

      “Why are you all alone?” he inquired.

      “Trent was here, but he left,” I nodded slowly.

      “Oh,” he sounded disappointed, “how do you stand this?”

      “What?”

      “The noise, the activity—all the people. How doesn’t it bother you?” he shook his head.

      “I don’t know. I guess… I kind of like it,” I determined.

      “Why?”

      “It calms me down—knowing that I’m around people, and yet still my own person,” I reasoned thoughtfully, for it was true. In my own, odd, twisted way, chaos calmed me.

Logan’s POV

How did noise and people calm a person down? It didn’t make sense to me. How did one possess the ability to pretend that it was simply nonexistent? To me, it wasn’t possible. I couldn’t just tune it all out. Everything that happened around me was always there. There was no escaping it.

      “Uh, Jules, I just wanted to ask, how close are you and Trent?” I said after a while.

      “Hmm… You know what Siamese twins are?” she asked, as an adorable smile made its way across her face. She liked Trent. Even when she was talking about her “perfect” boyfriend, she wasn’t this happy. She liked him.

      “Yeah,” I said.

      “We’re closer than those,” she laughed. “Why do you ask?”

      “Well, because, uh, I mean, Trent’s a great guy and all, but I just wanted to make sure you know who you’re dealing with,” I gulped. 

      “Believe me, I do. Probably better than you,” she smirked, though she wasn’t aware that that was impossible.

      “What classes do you have after lunch?” I switched topics.

      “I want to say gym and maybe, like, math?” she answered, unsure.

      “Fun,” I commented lamely.

      “Not really. One’s a time to get aggression out, and the other’s a time to sleep,” was her assessment of the end of her school day. “They’re both boring.”

      “Totally—” I began.

      “Logan! Hey, babe!” Mia said, coming out of nowhere, and squeezing herself in the space between Jules and me. “Oh. Hi, Julia.”

      “Jules! J-U-L-E-S! How hard is that?” Jules groaned, clearly aggravated.

      “Whatever. Well, anyways, I just wanted to tell you two that Mason Wilmington just asked me out!” she said, as there was an unmistakable evil glint to her eyes. I looked over at Jules, who was smirking. Not exactly the most common response for when someone said they were going out with your ex, but it still worked.

      “That’s awesome!” Jules exclaimed, sounding genuinely happy.

      “It is? I mean, of course it is!” Mia said, slightly confused.

      “No, I really think the two of you would make an adorable couple!” Jules went on. “He’s a great guy, and deserves an amazing girl like you!” The last part was forced, and I had no clue which direction she was going with her reaction.

      “You think? Well, I just wanted to mention it to you two! I’m so… happy! Bye, guys!” Mia smirked, strangely leaving us with that wonderful notion.

      “Five…four…three…two…one,” Jules counted, before completely breaking out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

      “What’s so funny?” I asked.

      “You’re kidding, right? That girl was trying to make us both pissed and jealous!” she said through her giggles.

      “How?”

      “Well, for starters, she said that she’s going out with another guy, which, in her mind, is supposed to make you jealous. That other guy also happens to be my ex, which is the part that’s supposed to make me jealous,” she explained. “See, she forgot two small details: you aren’t into her, and I have a boyfriend.”

      “Seriously?”

      “Y—” the bell sounded before she could finish. “Got to go. See ya!” She slapped me a high-five before going off. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing for my next battle: English.

Jules’ POV

      “Julia!” the boy at the front of the gym called. I think he meant me. I didn’t budge. In my defense, that was—technically—not my name.

      “Ms. Tylers!” the gym teacher barked.

      “What?” I said, acting dazed.

      “Mr. Colton just picked you,” the educator informed me.

      “Oh,” I said, walking over to the boy. It was Ethan. The same Ethan from Aiden’s party who I had had an encounter with long, long ago.

      “Hey,” he said with a smirk, throwing me a green pinny that reeked of sweat of grossness. Well, that was certainly disgusting. “I’m Ethan.”

      “I know,” I stated. “Oh, and it’s Jules, not Julia.”

      “Okay.”

      “What are we doing right now? I was kinda zoning out during the explination,” I admitted.

      “Oh, well, we were just about to go behind the bleachers and make out,” Ethan said with the most serious face he could muster.

      “Seriously, dude,” I said, not amused at his words.

      “We’re playing dodge ball,” he shrugged.

      “Why?” I scrunched my face in disgust. Who would ever want to play a sport so gross?

      “Because it’s gym class, and Mr. Altera said so,” he snorted.

      “Not that I’m paying attention or anything, but I think it’s your turn to pick,” I pointed out, interupting our oh-so intellectual conversation.

      “Uh, Aiden!” he called. Of course Aiden Heath was in this class. Why wouldn’t he be? It wasn’t like my life was fair or anything.—

      “Thanks, bro,” Aiden said, claiming a matching green sweat rag. “Hey, Jules!”

      This sequence went on for about another ten minutes. Ethan would pick a player, and then go back to trying to talk to me when it was the other team’s pick. Once we were finally done the gym teacher blew his whistle, and yelled, “ON THE COUNT OF THREE, PLAY DODGEBALL! THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!”

      In a jolt of excitement, boys started running up and grabbing balls, as most of the girls stayed towards the back of their side, gossiping, and admiring their nails (and probably the boys). I wasn’t one of those girls, though. Shocker, right? I ran up with the boys, taking a ball. One of them gave me the “you’re just a dumb girl who can’t throw” look, and smiled. I laughed to myself, drew back my arm, released the red ball, pegging some dick head next to the jerk. Whoops… The said dick head happened to be Chase. Chase Ryan. In response, Chase merely smirked at me from across the room, holding his hands up in defeat, and walking over to the side. Feeling good about my mini victory, I completely missed the ball that was heading straight for my head. I closed my eyes, anticipating the imact. I waited. Nothing.

      “You’re welcome,” Ethan said, holding the ball he had just caught in his hands. “Wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face of yours, now would I?”

      “Thanks,” I mumbled.

      Gym progressed, I hit more people, and then I made my way to math—or, as I liked to call it, nap time. As I entered the classroom, I went straight to the back of the room, and claimed a seat next to a  girl dressed in all black (maybe goth), and a zoned out looking guy who was probably stoned.

      “You’re Jules, right?” the guy asked, apparently not fully out of it. Or stoned.

      “Yeah,” I said, putting my hood over my head in preparation for the next forty-five minutes of hell.

      “What’cha doing?” he asked, as I put my head on the desk.

      “What does it look like, idiot?” the girl beside me snapped. “She’s going to sleep.”

      “Shhh…” I said, putting a finger to my mouth, and laying my head back onto the desk. Sleep was a wonderful thing, and math class just happened to be the perfect time to encounter it. Numbers were so confusing. When was I actually going to use something as dumb as the quadratic formula, anyways?

      I allowed sleep to consume me for a while, until I felt someone nudge me. Lifting my head, I turned to the culprit who had woke me. The goth girl.

      “Class is over,” she stated, standing above my desk.

      “Thanks, um...” I searched for her name, though came up short.

      “Daria,” she filled in.

      “Daria. I like it. It’s pretty,” I commented honestly.

      “Did you really sleep through the entire class?” she questioned.

      “Yep!” I said proudly, gathering up my belongings.

      “I already took my nap in English earlier. We were reading Shakespeare. I swear, he wrote those plays to make people fall asleep!” she laughed.

      “Totally! And his sentence structure is so confusing!” I agreed.

      “I know! The teachers are practically asking us to fall asleep!”

      “Yeah! For me, math is really my chosen subject to sleep in. I don’t know if it’s all the numbers, or the confusing equations, but, all together, it forms a very good sleeping environment,” I shared. “So, Daria, why haven’t we talked before?”

      “I’m not really into the whole ‘socializing’ thing,” she shrugged. “I’ve heard about you, though.”

      “What’s the latest rumor?” I sighed.

      “It’s crazy. I’m sure it’s not true,” she assured me before relying the information.

      “I’ve heard them all. They don’t scare me.”

      “Well, someone told me that the new girl is really this chick named Julia Tylers, who used to go to school with us, like, two years ago—back in middle school. She was a total bitch,” Daria said with an eye roll.

      “I know! I really was, wasn’t I?” I said, not surprised with what she had called me.

      “Wait—you’re J-Julia T-Tylers?” she asked, stunned.

      “Yeah,” I nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, Trent Johnson thought I was dead.”

      “He’s so h-hot,” she stuttered, looking down.

      “Eh, I’ve seen better,” I remarked.

      “I can’t believe I’m t-talking to you right now.”

      “Why?”

      “Because, back in middle school, I was that girl in the back of the class who didn’t talk, and got i-ignored by people like you,” she went on to say.

      “Sorry—” I started my apology.  

      “Hey, slut!” a carefree voice sang as they entered the room, completely cutting me off.

      “Hey, asshole!” I returned with a smile.

      “How was math?” he asked, approaching Daria and me.

      “I took a nap, but I missed you, Trentyboo!”

      “And I missed you too, Julesyboo!”

      “Ummm… Bye,” Daria said, quickly abandoning the uninhabited classroom. As I watched her leave, Trent attacked me from behind, engulfing his arms around me, and picking me up.

      “Put me down, please!” I sang.

      “No.”

      “Whatever. Where are we going?”

      “To the skate park.”

      “Okay.”

      “Now, as much as I would love to hold you in my arms all day, I can’t,” he said, abruptly dropping me. I draped my backpack over a shoulder, and we left the room. Following Trent out of the building, we eventually came to the parking lot.

      “You can drive?” I asked hesitantly.

      “Yeah, I know, I wouldn’t have let me pass the driving test either,” he said, taking out a pair of keys, and pressing a button, which caused a car in the distance to start beeping.

      “Are you also telling me that your parents got you a car, and think that you’re not gonna crash it?” I laughed.

      “Crazy, right?!”

      “Wow. And to think, I thought that my parents were the dumb ones letting Adam drive.”

      “Eh. I haven’t crashed… yet.”

      “Well, there’s still time!” I said, having all the faith in the world that Trent would, eventually, crash his car.

      “Well, I kinda like my car, so I’m planning on not chasing it any time soon, if I can help it,” he said, opening the door to a blue car.

      “This is yours?”

      “I think auto theft is illegal, and I don’t need another mark on my record, so, yes, this is my car,” he smirked.

      “I like it,” I said, getting in on the other side.

      “Good to know. Who was that chick that you were talking to at the end?”

      “I don’t know. I liked her, though.”

      “Cool. How were your classes?” he asked, starting up the ignition.

      “Boring.”

      “Oh, Julesyboo...” He turned out of the school’s parking lot, and quickly drove to the skate park. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t long. We got there right after school, so there weren’t too many people there. It was quieter than usual.

      “You want to show me my surprise now?” he asked, as he withdrew himself from the car.

      “Bring your guitar, and once we get over there I’ll show you,” I said. He went into his trunk, and pulled out his skateboard and guitar.

      “You’re carrying this,” he said, throwing his board at me. I rolled my eyes, and walked with him to the skate park in the near distance. I sat down on a bench, got out his guitar, and was about to start playing, when I heard a door slam, and someone angrily yell. I turned to see who it was—that blonde kid, Cody. He ran towards us, and I could visibly see the irritation melt away form his face as he came closer to the skate park. I also noticed he was wearing a blue polo shirt.

      “Cody! What up, bro?” Trent said, getting up from the bench.

      “My mom’s an idiot!” Cody raged.

      “Why the shirt?” I asked.

      “Because,” he said, taking it off, “as I said before, my mom’s an idiot!”

      “What happened?” I asked, trying to not stare at his relatively toned chest.

      “Eh, doesn’t matter,” he tried to brush it off.

      “Yeah it does.” I gave Trent his guitar and moved over to Cody. I bent down, and picked up his shirt. Last time I saw Cody had a hunch that he may have been one of those kids, but checking his shirt would just give me the closure I needed to make sure he wasn’t.

      “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, as I turned the shirt right side out.

      “Nothing,” I said, instantly spotting the monogram on the left side. “Cody, what school do you go to?”

      “Yours,” he lied.

      “Why haven’t I seen you around?”

      “I skip?”

      “Cody, Cody, Cody. I’m holding evidence in my hands that that’s a lie, and that you’re really a preppy rich kid who attends Lancaster United Academy,” I said, staring at the shirt that served as proof.

      “Fine,” he sighed, “I go to LUA. How’d you know?”

      “This,” I pointed to the monogramed ‘LUA.’ LUA was this preppy private school that went from kindergarten up to twelfth grade. It had a notorious reputation for education rich snobs who were incredibly out of touch with the world. Not exactly my type of school.

      “Oh,” he said.

      “Do you like it?” I asked.

      “No,” he snorted.

      “Is that why you come here?”

      “I guess. It’s kinda my way out of that world,” he shrugged. “Do you know any other kids from LUA?”

      “Heck, no!” I laughed.

      “Keep it that way. They’re all preppy, bratty, spoiled rich kids—me included,” he snorted.

      “I know, which is why I don’t have any friends from there,” I said, slowly digesting the information. Cody went to LUA. When he mentioned that he liked Florida, it reminded me that all the kids at LUA spend their winters either there or skiing. Cody went to LUA. Wow.

      “Okay, Jules, just show me already!” Trent complained.

      “Fine,” I said, claiming the guitar once again.

      “Wait, you play guitar and skate?” Cody questioned.

      “Well, let’s see,” I said, strumming the instrument. I played the first couple chords to The Only Exception, by Paramore. After playing for about a minute into the song, I was stopped by Trent.

      “Julesy! Aren’t you gonna sing?” he asked.

      “Aren’t you gonna shut up?”

      “Just a question. By the way, when did you learn to play the guitar? Oh, wait—did your ‘amazing’ boyfriend teach you that too?” Trent mocked.

      “I’ve actually been playing since I was about seven,” I told him.

      “And why didn’t you show me your amazing talent sooner?”

      “Because one day Emily told me guitars were stupid,” I said quickly, trying to block out the memory.

      “Well, you’re good.”

      “I know.”

      “Okay, not to be rude or anything, but I’m gonna go skate, because that’s what I came here to do. So, yeah,” Cody said, tossing his board on the ground, and skating over to one of the pike things. 

Trent’s POV

      “You’re amazing, Julesy,” I said, looking at her. She was so hot.

      “I know. And, I guess, you’re kinda amazing too T.J.,” she smiled.

      “Thanks. Oh, and when you break up with your perfect boyfriend—”

      “We’re not breaking up!” she interjected. Oh, Jules! So young. She didn’t understand that long distance relationships never worked out. I would never actually make a move on Jules when she was still in a “relationship”, but the second she was out of it, she was mine.

      “Keep telling yourself that. So, when you do breakup, promise me that I’ll be the first guy you’ll date.”

      “We’re not—”

      “Just promise? For me?” I pleaded, pouting.

      “Fine. Even though it is never going to happen, I promise,” she said.

      “Thank you! Now, can you play I’m Yours, by Jason Mraz?” I asked, taking my guitar back from her.

      “Give me sheet music, and I can.”

      “So, no?” I strummed the first few bars, as she smiled. Yeah, she was totally into me. Who wouldn’t be, though? Julia—Jules (I actually liked the change) was kind of like my younger sister …my younger, extremely hot sister …who I happen to be attracted to. A few years back, we were more than friends, but less than a couple. Every minutes I spent with this girl I loved. After all, she was my Julesyboo…