Collide « n. horan au

one.

Jay 

It's too cold. Honestly, who's idea was it to create winter? I just wanted to go out and dress in whatever I want because coincidental, I hate summer too. I hate a lot of things actually. I won't get into that now, but I wouldn't find it surprising if every little while I said I hated something. The only other thing that was irritating me right now was that I texted Frankie fifteen minutes ago and she hadn't even answered. I get that she's a straight A goody-two shoes, but she's also my best friend. She can read about the Quantum Theory some other time. 

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, blowing the cold air through my lips and walking through the unheated hallways like I was on a mission. Which I wasn't but if people didn't know, that then they would move out of my way and wait till I was gone to start calling me whatever they wanted. 

Another thing I hated. People who talked behind my back. If they have something to say, they really should say it to my face because if they have enough balls to say it behind my back then they have enough to say it to my face. I'm not complicated, I'm simple and when I want things. I get them. It really truly is that simple. 

"Jay!" God, there it is. I turned and looked at my counselor, giving her the smile that had each and every faculty member in this oh-so prestigious high school fooled. She came at me with a paper and a frantic look on her face. 

"Yes, Mrs. Cranberry?" My voice was silk, much unusual to how it really and actually was. 

"You haven't filled out your future occupation box." She reminded me and had me looking at the very paper I filled out myself so I knew that I hadn't filled that out yet.

"I know. I'm indecisive." I answered and crossed my arms over my chest, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth. 

The only reason I'm indecisive is because my mom and dad want me to follow a single path that I'm not willing to follow. A housewife. My mom is one and my parents are so old school that it hurts me to think that I'll be in a house all day while my kids and probable husband are out enjoying themselves. Sometimes I feel bad for my mom because she has the most amazing body for a thirty-seven year old woman but my dad never notices because he's always on his phone talking to important people and leaving early in the morning only to come home near midnight, or maybe even later. 

I'm not stupid. I know he has a side chick. I've never told anyone this, but my mother is my true best friend next to Frankie. My mom and Frankie sort of grounded me, even though I've shaped Frankie for the worst she never fails to remind me who I really am. 

"You've got to fill it out at some point," Mrs. Cranberry reminded me, putting the paper and pen to her sides as she looked at me. "The world is full of wonder, Johanna, and it's going to be up to you to take all the wonder and create something amazing with it."

"Right," I muttered and turned on my heel, prepared to just walk away from this whole conversation.

"Jay, you don't have to act like you're badass and unemotional all the time," Her tone was knowing. "You can show a little bit of emotional once in a while because not everyone will screw you over."

Slowly, I licked my lips. For once, I let everything that an adult had said to me sink in. Flashbacks of me shooing my mom away even though she was my old other friend popped into my head and guilt washed over me. I knew nothing was going to change my way of doing things and thinking, but it felt nice that someone had actually cared enough to tell me what I needed to hear rather than what I wanted to hear.

Frankie walked through the back doors of the school, catching my attention right away and I found myself hurrying over to her. She gave me her usual smile and moved to her locker to put her books inside. 

"I don't understand how you have perfect grades, but we're gone most of the day." I commented as two hands wrapped themselves around my waist. 

"Because my little sister emails her teachers and demands the homework and lessons." Dylan explained,  kissing my neck gently before turning me around in his embrace.

"Did you miss me?" He questioned, pressing me against the locker. Dylan had been gone for an "Athletes retreat" for about a four days. He doesn't play sports and he hates being around too many guys becuse there's not enough girls. 

"Hardly." I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. 

"What?" He asked, watching me grab Frankie.

"She's mad because you lied. You know how she hates lying." Frankie reminded him and allowed me to pull her away.

I was angry. I didn't even know why, should I be mad at him? We weren't even dating and I felt like I wanted to hurt him in the worst way possible. My chest started hurting as we got into the bathroom. I needed to know what this was. 

"Damn it, I'm just so angry!" I yelled, crossing my arms over my chest and pressing my behind against the skin.

"You liked him. Why don't you allow the simple joy of having a crush?" Frankie asked me, running her fingers through her blonde hair. Her blue eyes seemed brighter in the bathroom light and it made me jealous that her eyes were that bright compared to my own blue ones. 

"Because I don't want to be like my mom. She's completely in love with my dad and she shows him every ounce of it, but what does she get? She gets nothing, but a cheating husband." I snapped, looking in my backpack for a cigarette. 

"Just because your mom is a sexy house wife doesn't mean you have to be. Not all boys are like your dad." Frankie reminded me and lifted her leg so her boot was arms length. She pulled out a lighter and handed it to me as soon as I had found what I was looking for. 

"That's the thing, Frank. I don't want to be in love and have perfect green eyed kids with brown hair." I told her and ran my fingers through my hair before taking a long inhale from the cigarette. 

"You say that now--"

"No, Frankie! I don't want all of that. I don't want that stupid thing they call love because in the end, people get hurt and lied to. Growing up is a trap, falling in love is your death." I muttered and walked out of the bathroom, forgetting completely that I had a cigarette in my hand. 

"Miss Ryans," His voice was one I had heard many times, but usually it was for something stupid.

"Shit," I muttered, dropping the cigarette to the tiled floor as I turned and looked at him.

"You know, smoking is against our school rules. You're also out in the hallways, after the bell." He spoke, bending down and stepping on the drag. 

I didn't even know why, but I was oddly quiet. I don't know if it was because of what I had told Frankie or that fact that there was a lump in my throat for the first time in a long time. I couldn't cry. No, never. Crying is for weak minded people. 

"Follow me, Miss Ryans, we're going to discuss your punishment."

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