I’ve decided to take it easy this weekend. No school, no work, no bullshit. Some of us have something, perhaps, but for once, it’s all good. Nothing planned, isn’t that great? Whatever, it’s not always good. I’ll be turning seventeen soon-but it’s not like I’ll bother planning anything. Those who know me will remember, naturally. As it’s Sunday, I thought it would be nice to plan something with Evan, eat something at Subway or whatever. Just...talk. Hopefully, we won’t meet one of those chicks asking for my number or something like that. Chances are at least one of them will-even though they know I’m with Nora. 

I’m wearing an olive-green waffle-knit sweater worn over a white collared shirt, with the collar peeking out from underneath. I completed it with dark grey wool trousers. It’s casual, nothing fancy. Evan’s only wearing a long-sleeves shirt with cargos and his cap returned. I find him funny doing that sometimes, we’re not children, yet I don’t find him weird. He’s my friend, after all. He’s surely the best I ever have anyway. Evan grins at me as he sees me, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as always.  

“Hey Jules!” He greets me, “I thought you were going to invite me over at McDonald’s!” 

“It’s too cheap there. Ain’t good for the two of us.” I say, rolling my eyes 

“Dunno. Let’s go, shall we?” 

We walk to the Subway, shoving the door open as I let out a small sigh. I always thought that this place had a very smart manner for the business world- building their own sandwich bar for the customers to create their very owns. Useful, classy, and well made. Evan stands in front and orders the one he always choose-the Italian B.M.T. I don’t understand what he sees in the too-much quantity of meat, but I decide to shrug it off and choose my personal favorite- the meatball marinara. The woman at the cash register starts making them, and my friend shifts to me awkwardly. 

“So, how’s it going with Nora?” He questions hesitantly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “You don’t talk much about her recently.” 

“Not much to talk about.” I affirm simply, tilting my head, “With that Dylan rumor, it’s been a bit harsh on her, though I apologized a few times for not believing her. I feel bad, but at this point it’s fine between the two of us.” 

“That’s great.” Evan speaks calmly, “Man, how did she react to the apology?” 

“It was fine.” 

“Evan Hood for the Italian B.M.T?” The woman calls out, shaking the sandwich. 

Evan whistles and steps over, lending the money as he shakes his head, muttering, “Careful with the sandwich. I won’t pay if it’s all destroyed- you'd have to do it more than once and that’d be annoying for you.” 

“Meatball Marinara?” 

I walk over to the cash register as Mr. The Sandwich Complainer serves himself a cup of Coca Cola, grumbling his anger with a small pout. I hide my smile, paying the woman as we then walk to a table and sit there together. 

“I love the weekend!” Evan groans as he takes a bite of his sandwich 

“'Who doesn’t?” I ask rhetorically as I do so myself 

We keep talking for a while, as another boy comes to order. He looks quite handsome, with messy black hair, along with grey eyes. I’ve seen this guy somewhere, I’m sure of it. I’m not sure how, though. But I’ve seen him. The thought of wanting to know where I saw him can’t seem to fade away either. As he orders and sits at a nearby table, I decide to call out to him. 

“Hey! Can we talk?” 

“What the fuck are you doing, Jules?” Hisses Evan as he slaps my arm, his mouth filled with ham, “Don’t talk to him.” 

“It’s not your job to choose who I talk to, Evan.” I retort coldly, arching a brow confusingly. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Says my friend as he remains silent as the boy shifts to us. 

“Hey. I believe we have met before. What’s your name?” 

“Yeah, I do recall it. I’m Dylan. And who might you be?” 

Dylan. It does ring a bell. There’s an alarm sounding in my head begging me to back away, but I can’t help myself. I do remember exactly where I have seen him before, yet I feel like I must know-it pulls me in, and I just can’t stop. Implied with Nora? I don’t have a clue. He has a weird smile-not an ugly one, but somehow there’s something twisted within him, something mischievous. Whatever that means. 

“I’m Jules. I’m in secondary fifth. Are you sure you don’t remember where we have met each other?” 

“And who might you be?” Dylan wonders as he shifts to my best friend, “You must be Evan, right? Please correct me if I’m wrong, of course.” 

“No, I’m Gorgio Di Caprio...” Evan mutters as I watch him in amusement and annoyance, eating my sandwich. 

The black-haired boy shrugs and walks back to his seat. He begins eating again, glancing at me from time to time with that odd smile of his. He doesn’t bother looking at Evan so much-he seems to have an interest in me; not romantically, yet perhaps we have met each other in tough circumstances. I can’t recall. He sips his cola, his grey eyes piercing through mine coldly, sending a shiver along my spine. I flinch at my reaction, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. Who is this guy? 

“You know, I think you’re the first guy who kept Nora for more than six months. I stood with her for four months, nothing more.” Dylan says calmly, keeping a straight face. 

I spit out my drink, caught off guard. Evan’s expression darkens as he glares at him, lending me some paper towels. I can’t bring myself to stand up or anything, finding his words profoundly disturbing as I realize what has happened; this guy was Nora’s ex from the rumor. Truly, he’s a freak. Was he always like this? I don’t know, but I hate him already- he made her cry. 

“So, you’re that ex...” I grumble angrily as I look up at him with hatred in my eyes, as well as a composed expression hiding a scowl, “Players are so common these days, no wonder she was trapped.” 

“I ain’t the bad guy, Taylor.” Dylan tells me with a sheepish smile, “I’m not a player anymore, y’know. That was four years ago...She wasn’t the only one, and ‘course I never forgot her stupid ass.” 

“You don’t even know what she’s been through.” I snap, standing up as I step over. Evan tries to stop me, but I don’t let him; this guy’s being too much of an asshole, “You can’t change. Guys like you don’t change. She wasn’t stupid nor foolish. You’re the idiot that plays with hearts for fun.” 

Nora’s ex glances at me, skeptical. His brows furrow and his lips curl into a smug grin. His eyes sparkle with anticipation and amusement as he stuffs a left-out tomato in his mouth, indifferent. I feel my blood boiling with anger, with a deep, choking pain at the thought that such a guy could do something like this to Nora. 

“You know, you’re pretty much of a lost puppy. You look aggressive and shit, a little friendly, but you’re so possessive over her. I never was, y’know. She wasn’t worth it too much. I’ll have to admit, she got pretty eyes.”  

“Just wait and see. I’ll make your life a living hell. Just why are you even here?” I ask in anger, clenching my fists as my entire body shakes, “Are you here for Nora?” 

Dylan rolls his eyes. “How stupid of you to think that my world revolves around a random girl I played with four years ago, A.K.A your girlfriend... But no. I’m here for your ex-girlfriend. Let’s just say I have contacts.” 

My face heats up. I feel like I’m in a trance, that I see red, like I might blow any instant. Evan’s tight painful grip on my wrist snaps me out of it. Our eyes meet, and I see the worry and the disappointment in his eyes. I don’t have the time to respond to the grey-eyed freak that he pulls me out of the restaurant, leaving our trash on the table. I don’t even feel guilty. 

“What were you thinking? You hate this guy’s guts!” Evan snarls as he scrunches his nose and shakes his head, “You looked like you were about to punch him. That’s such a good way to start a weekend, really. I thought we were just gonna hang out, just the two of us!” 

“I knew there was something weird about him, but I wanted to know what it was. It’s good to know that Dylan’s here in town. I might have to be more careful on Nora. He knows Ann-Marie. Who knows what he could try?”