My first day of school wasn’t half bad. Except for the small Ann-Marie incident, everything went well. I had great moments with the girls and Jules, and we all talked about the theater. He was quite interested in joining, and it made me happy. I do not know if he has the acting skills, but at least we won’t be rejecting him with this like last year. 

He was overjoyed with the idea of working with us to build a new show, and he kept on staring at me, begging me to let him act. What can I say? I’m not the boss; I can’t decide on those things. Jules was funny, ignoring me completely as he couldn’t help himself. I must admit he was cute doing those eyes and stuff.  

I believe that joining the club last year was a great idea. I managed to be less of a loner, with a bunch of friends supporting me. At least, they aren’t like Ann-Marie and won’t try to steal him away from me. Although I’m not the jealous type, I won’t handle one of them acting like a pick-me. Or all of them. That’s not likely to happen, though. 

As soon as I arrive home, I drop my bag and jump on the bag, burying my face in a pillow and cuddling it tightly. I didn’t think that my first day would’ve been this exhausting. And yet I’m not in a bad mood. My brown hair in a mess, I groggily sit up, heading to the kitchen. 

"We have nothing to eat...” I mumble to myself, rubbing my chin in thought as I let my eyes wander over the shelves. 

My choice stops at a chewy bar. It might not be the most delightful snack, it’s better than nothing. I sit in the chair, sighing as I lean my head against my palm. I pull out my phone from my pocket, checking out my notifications. It instantly appears from my favorite people, the most recent messages... 

J♡:  You: Pages 33 to 35, np – 1 hour ago (read) 

Ave: Haha Jules the Prince Charming (╯◕_◕)╯ - 15 minutes ago 

Dad: I have a surprise for you when I’ll come home 😊- 15h35 

Oh, my father has a surprise for me. Now that’s nice. I plug my earphones on, relaxing to some music as I open the manual for my history homework. I hum to the music, swinging my legs back and forth as I eat my chewy bar. It’s a little sticky, but I don’t mind. It’s tasty. 

A while later, my dad opens the door as I’m about to finish my work. I immediately gawk up, removing my earphones, to focus on him and not on my playlist. I don’t get surprised this often, and when it does, it makes me giddy for some reason. Yes, I know, it’s childish. And yet I wasn’t spoiled with gifts as a child, and so it’s a bit more exciting. 

“Hello, Nor-Nor... How was your first day?” My dad asks me, his face softening as he sees me, and he sets the present next to him, looking into my eyes, truly worried. 

I’m touched. He cares about me deeply, and every time I can see it clearly-in his eyes, in the way he acts, it reminds me that I’m not alone. I feel myself stepping back, focusing more on him than on the gift. 

“I had a wonderful day with the girls!” I exclaim happily, smiling widely, but my expression soon saddens a little as I mutter, “Ann-Marie’s being an asshole with me, as always though. She thinks Jules is secretly hers.” 

Stephan’s eyes widened. I’ve mentioned Ann-Marie a lot last year, and I know he hates her just as much as I hate her. Well, not as much, but remarkably close. My father has a lot of empathy-but not only his close figures, but anyone going through a challenging time. 

“What did she say this time?” He ponders angrily, eying me with fury and concern. 

“She didn’t insult me, don’t worry.” I reassure him, trying to convince him. 

“Oh, thank God.” My dad sighs in relief, before he smiles softly, gesturing to the purple box-my favorite color- “Here’s your present, sweetie.” 

I arch a brow, trying to hide my excitement. It’s not even my birthday-it is in a week, though. It’s a little early, yet I’m not complaining. 

Eager to see what it is, I take it, not without thanking my father with the strength of my gaze. I unwrap it slowly, pulling the ribbons, to notice a small cardboard box. My eyebrows raise instantly, my thoughts wandering. What could it be? 

A new phone? No, the box is too big for that. I can’t keep on staring at the box and let the suspense linger. Instead, I let my fingers slide under the corners, lifting the top to reveal another box. “Painting Kit for Newbies.” I look over at Stephan, skeptical. Why did he buy me this? 

Whether my face said all, or he expected me to react this way, he knew he had to give me some explanations. I saw it in his face before he had the time to say anything. That frown, his scrunched nose with those eyes that seemed to say, “I understand you.”  

“Remember when you made small paintings this summer for money? I thought you weren’t so bad, so maybe you could use this as a pastime...” 

He’s right. This summer, I wanted money to buy Avery a gift for her birthday. A notebook. I managed to buy that, but at the cost of spending sunny days outside painting and hoping people would come to me and lend me money to get one of them. I even offered to buy portraits. Yet I wasn’t talented. 

Well, that was my opinion, which is a pretty critical opinion-everyone tells me that. But my dad does believe that I have some talent and that I’m “not so bad.” “Not so bad” isn’t enough to get recognized internationally, but at least I’m not bad. I do not know what to think of his offer-I have doubts. I must admit that it’s not completely stupid though. 

“Yeah? Thanks dad, I’ll think about it.” 

*** 

I haven’t only thought about it. I have tried it and even had fun doing it. I didn’t expect to be this happy doing such an activity. I thanked my father a few times again.  

I relax, glad that I’ve been able to find some time for this pastime. I can have my mind at ease, outside, in summer. Isn’t that great? 

As I try to paint some birds outside, I hear my phone buzzing in my pocket.  My hands full of paint, I quickly wipe them on a towel and hang up. 

“Hello?” I greet in a voice questioning the caller. 

“Hey Nora, it’s Ann-Marie talking.” A smooth talker responds. 

I freeze in shock. How did she get my number? I really hope she didn’t beg Jules to give it to her. I hate it when he’s feeling pressured, because at the end he always feels bad and is uncomfortable. I know him enough. I try not to show my fear, and yet my voice is trembling. 

“What do you want from me?” I snap, wanting to keep my voice as neutral as possible. 

“Oh, I don’t want anything to do with you. But with my dear boyfriend.” She hums, not having any difficulty keeping her composure. 

I flinch. This is about Jules, obviously. I can’t believe she doesn’t get the idea that Jules doesn’t have affection nor love towards her and that he never did. My thoughts wander; what if he does. I shake off the thoughts-that's exactly what she wants me to believe. 

“How about we meet up for a little rendez-vous?” My nemesis suggests in a light tone. 

“Why should we do that?” 

“So, we can talk things out, obviously.” 

My entire body is shaking with anger. I know very well what she intends to do, and it infuriates me. I hate her so badly, and I believe she hates me more. Ann-Marie is such a b*tch, I bet she thinks that everything that happened is my fault. Her family hates her.  Nora’s fault. Jules left her. Nora’s fault. Her reputation is ruined. Nora’s fault. No, she did it all herself. But I won’t give her the idea just yet. She doesn’t deserve to know and must see it for herself. 

After a while of silence, I speak in a more confident tone, knowing what I’ll be telling her, there, at our very own rendez-vous. 

“Fine then. Let’s meet in an hour at the Gift Shop...”