Dear Diary, I'm Completely Lost

A Brand New Start

Dear Diary,

I don’t even know where to start. I successfully applied to my very first writing competition. To which I was supposed to apply a short story, but ended up writing a really good essay, apparently. I don’t know what got into me.

I saw my boyfriend, when he came home to surprise me. I’m still not over that exchange between him and Jackson, though. That was … scarring. Anyway, moving away from that dude, because my bestie says he brings nothing good. I don’t want to be prejudicial, but I might agree with her.

I’m writing this in the girls’ bathroom again, by the way. It’s becoming a pattern. But what else am I supposed to do when my best friend gets sick and leaves me to fend all for myself in this school, where I hang out with literally no one else?

I close the diary and decide to get back to classes. Lunch break will be over soon. I ate as quickly as I could today, then disappeared to the restroom. Leslie’s lying at home. She fell ill with the flu, so I have no protector at this school.

The thing is, my peers aren’t blind. Or stupid. They have eyes. They can see that I’m walking around the school all by myself. And I just know that the wrong person has seen this already. I’m trying to avoid the unavoidable for as long as I can.

It’s the last week before the Thanksgiving holidays begin and I really don’t want any drama in my life right now. My brother is finally coming home, Hunter will be there, we’ll all finally get to be together.

And yeah, the person I’m trying to avoid is Jackson. Hit the nail on the head, if you happened to be guessing. He’s already seen that I’m walking around the hallways by myself and I’m dreading the next period, because we have biology. And he’s sitting behind me.

I basically have to force myself to leave the safe haven of that bathroom stall and walk to the biology classroom. I hope we’ll be doing something really important today, so Jackson won’t be able to bother me. Ah. Wishful thinking. Gets you nowhere, but feels so nice.

As I get to the classroom, I realize everyone’s still waiting for the teacher to come. Ugh, great. Just what I needed. I hide behind a group of my schoolmates, who just happen to be jocks. Their broad shoulders are perfect for shielding me from Jackson’s gaze.

The thing I don’t notice, however, is the fact that he’s standing with that group. With his back turned against me. Crap. If I walk past them to wait on the other bench, he’ll surely see me. If I stay here, however … I’m sure he won’t be turning around, will he?

I silently plop myself down next to Courtney, one of the quietest girls in our class. She doesn’t even look at me, because she’s lost deep inside a book she’s holding in her hands. Great, just what I needed. She won’t talk to me, won’t mention my name, won’t let anyone notice I’m there.

However, as we hear footsteps getting closer to us, we all turn our head to see if the teacher is coming. The bell has rung a couple of minutes ago, which is why there’s silence in the hallways, apart from my peers talking.

And just as I notice the teacher and get up from the bench, Jackson notices me, too. Our gazes meet by accident and I quickly move towards the door, waiting for Mr. Sanchez to come unlock it. But he’s soon standing somewhere behind me, refusing to back down.

I know that, because he whispers into my ear: “Hey, can we talk about something?” I freeze as I realize how close he is, instinctively trying to move away, but I have nowhere to go. If I step forward, I’m blocking the door, to my left, there’s a wall and to my right, one of my peers is standing.

I literally have no other choice but to stay there, enduring his proximity. At least he smells nice. Perrie, what the hell?! “We have nothing to discuss,” I inform him quietly, knowing very well that he heard me.

He tries to say something, but in that moment, Mr. Sanchez says: “I’m really sorry, class, I got held up. Don’t worry, I won’t be keeping you any longer because of that, it’s my fault, really.”

With that, he opens the door and I escape inside, hot on his heels, because I refuse to communicate with Jackson any longer. What the hell was that about? I thought he got the message, when my boyfriend was tempted to introduce him to his fist!

God, Hunter, I wish you were still going to this school. It would destroy half of my problems. Jackson wouldn’t even dare to look at me. And now look where we are. Leslie, please feel better soon, or else I have no idea how I’ll get through this last week.

I don’t even look at Jackson as he walks past to take the desk behind me. I pretend to be too busy, getting the school supplies out of my backpack to look at him. But I can feel his gaze on me. I’m sooo tempted to message Hunter right now.

Then, I realize I’m being stupid. What could Hunter even do now? He’s on the other side of the continent. Yell at him over the phone? And what would I accomplish with it? I’d only make him jealous and angry. Maybe even so angry that he’d refuse to talk to me. No, that’s not the solution.

Should I hear Jackson out? Am I overreacting? “Psst,” I hear not long after my dilemma appears. I ignore him, because Mr. Sanchez is calling our names. There’s no way in hell I’ll experience the embarrassment of not hearing my own name and staying quiet, even though I’m here. It’s too much, it’s not me and I’m not letting it happen.

But Jackson is so persistent, that it makes me go ballistic. I turn around angrily, hissing: “Leave me alone!” As other students around us look at me, I realize I was being too loud, despite trying my best to tone my voice down.

“Miss Hughes is apparently here,” Mr. Sanchez then remarks, making the whole classroom chuckle at his words. I turn back around even more angrily, crossing my arms against my chest in protest. I can feel the heat travelling into my cheeks, making me realize that I’m probably resembling a ripe tomato right now. f**k this.

At least I get what I wanted. Peace. Jackson doesn’t try to bother me during the class anymore. I get to listen to the whole period without an interruption. I suppose I should be grateful for that. So, why do I feel bad?

Okay, I was mean. It’s unlike me. But he was really getting on my nerves! It’s fine, it’s just two more classes and then I get to go home. Phew. I can barely wait. Today’s been more exhausting than our midterms week.

However, as the bell rings and I throw my stuff into my backpack to get out of there as soon as possible, Jackson literally waits for me beside my desk. My jaw clenches. He really doesn’t get what I’m trying to tell him, does he?

I walk out, straight past him like he doesn’t even exist, but he catches up with me soon enough. “Please, I want to tell you something,” he tries to persuade me, but I send him a pointed look.

“Good for you. I’m not in the mood to listen,” I inform him bluntly, making him sigh. He looks around, like he’s trying to make sure no one’s watching him, then grabs my arm and drags me off the hallway. I’m so shaken that I don’t resist until he already lets go of me. “Hey!” I protest, but he ignores me.

“I just feel bad about the other day at your house, will you please let me get it off my chest?” he wonders in a gentle tone, managing to make me forget that I was tempted to punch him in the face just a second ago.

I cross my arms against my chest stubbornly, staring at him in a defiant way. So, that’s what this is all about. “You have two minutes. Was it really necessary to drag me away like that?” I wonder, not liking anything about this.

We’re alone in a supplies closet and it’s not a very big space. Luckily for him, he keeps his distance. But I can’t get to the door without going past him, so I’m at a disadvantage here. God damn, where is my bestie when I truly need her?

“I’m really sorry that I made your boyfriend angry. He’s a cool guy and in my defense, you didn’t tell me he’d come to your house, while we were alone there. If I knew, I’d come over later, when he was already there or something. I hope I didn’t cause any drama,” he speaks up, making me study his face.

I’m not that good at reading people, but my mom is an expert. And she’s told me enough to be able to tell when a person is being sincere, for example. Like now. There’s nothing on Jackson’s face that could be pointing to dishonesty. I believe him. Not entirely sure why, but I do.

I nod slowly, not knowing what to say at first. “Um … Okay. Thanks for your concern, but we’re still going strong,” I end up saying, almost feeling the need to slap myself. That wasn’t necessary, Perrie. What’s wrong with you lately?

He almost looks disappointed. What the hell? But his expression soon shifts and makes me feel like I’ve been imagining things. Okay, whatever. “That’s good to hear,” he chuckles, then looks like he’s really embarrassed for a moment, before continuing. “Actually, can we start over and leave this drama behind?”

I blink in surprise. Leave the drama behind, huh? I narrow my eyes ever so slightly, shrugging. “I don’t know, can we?” I say, making his face fall. Then, I decide that it’s really not worth it. I don’t want any bad blood in my senior year. I want it to be memorable. In a good way.

So, I put a smile on my face. “Gotcha. Yeah, we’re good Jackson. No worries,” I tell him, making him breathe out in relief. He smiles in response, almost looking like he still doesn’t know if I’m still messing with him or if I mean it.

“Okay. And you can call me Jack. Only my mom calls me Jackson, really … When I do something wrong,” he mumbles in the end, making me laugh whole-heartedly. I can’t believe this guy.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I assure him. “Can we please go now? I really don’t want to be late for algebra,” I then tell him, making him grimace. We share another laugh as we exit the supplies room. I feel relieved, to be honest. Jackson clearly accepted that I’m with someone and is not offended by it.

In fact, he ends up keeping me company as soon as he realizes that I’m more or less keeping to myself without Leslie in picture. She’s still sick when I call her in the afternoon. She tells me that she probably won’t be coming to school for the whole week.

And that’s how I end up sitting with Jack during lunch. Every day, more or less. He just joins me and I don’t even question it. At least I have someone to talk to. And he doesn’t pull any of that flirty stuff again. Thank goodness. I don’t like complicated and I don’t need complicated right now.

He almost acts like a shield between me and Cassie. She doesn’t seem to like that he’s paying me this much attention. But she doesn’t get close to me while he’s around. If I were alone every day … She’d already be sitting behind my table, harassing me in her usual sugar-coated way. I know her well enough to be able to claim that.

As we’re leaving the school that Friday, we’re laughing about how Mr. Barnes rolled his eyes at one of our schoolmates today. I mean, let’s be real here, Mark was being a complete i***t, like usual. He totally had that eyeroll coming. Stupid questions, stupid answers. Well, in this case it was a gesture more than an answer. But it spoke louder than words.

We’re headed to the parking lot, when something catches my eye. A car. It looks really familiar. But it can’t be … Can it? In that moment, the driver’s door opens, and my face lights up the moment I see the person who steps out of it.