It was three months into my education at Degrassi. Clare was still as hostile as she was on the first day. She was still as beautiful as well. I knew I should have hated her for all that she put me through, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. She made me want to work harder at everything I did to gain her approval.

Last week in English class, Ms. Dawes asked us to share what our goals were in ten years. Her answer was as flawless as she was. She told us that she wanted to be finishing graduate school in library sciences. I knew I was staring at her, but I just couldn't help myself.

When Dawes asked me, I replied, "I want to go to NYU and pursue filmmaking." Most everyone stayed silent, like they had for everyone else, but Clare scoffed and rolled her eyes at me. My heart sank into my stomach.

"Clare, don't be rude," Ms. Dawes snapped. Clare slumped back in her chair with her arms crossed, but kept any further rudeness to herself.

After school, I walked slowly to Morty after the final bell rang. This was a daily ritual of mine. Clare normally walked out of the school later than the rest of the student body. She would wait for Alli in the foyer before they prepared to walk home together. Today was the day I would get up the courage to ask if they wanted a ride.

I perched myself on the front of Morty and continued to wait. I saw the boldness of Alli's turquoise clothing before I actually saw them. My body perked up, and I started shaking from the nervousness. I scolded myself and tried to stay collected. I was the farthest from seeming cool in front of the two, but it wasn't too late to try and mend my image.

When they finally got into earshot, I projected, "Hey, do you guys want a ride home?" Alli looked toward me with a questioning look on her face as if she was unsure who I was talking to. Clare looked puzzled as well, but the annoyance in the back of her expression meant that she knew who I was talking to. I decided to acknowledge Alli instead. "Yeah, I'm sure it would beat walking home in the cold."

Alli turned to Clare, and they began speaking in hushed tones with one another. Clare kept looking over, but Alli remained looking at her best friend. Finally, Alli returned facing me. "We will accept the ride. Thank you." I smiled and hopped up from my resting position. The girls were making their way around the fence to the hearse. I opened up the front passenger door and the back door, just in case they both did not want to sit on the front bench seat. After opening the doors, I walked back around to the driver's side and slid into my own seat.

By the time I plugged my phone into the tape deck auxiliary cord, Clare was sitting in the passenger seat with Alli in the back middle. I pressed the shuffle on my phone's music and kept the volume low enough that we could just make out the beat of the song that was playing.

Alli began to provide me directions to her house, since I would be dropping her off first. Clare stayed silent, looking out the window. I drove the speed limit through the residential streets until we reached the front of the Bhandari house. Alli grabbed her backpack from the floor of Morty and began to exit the car. She paused and turned back, pecking me on the cheek and whispering something in Clare's ear.

"Thanks, Eli," she said, officially exiting the vehicle.

"No problem," I responded. Alli closed the back door and began skipping toward the house. Clare sighed, refusing to look toward me.

"Where are we going?" I asked her, still parked on the side of the street.

"Forward," she responded. I obliged, shifting the car into first. We were driving down a street that I knew dead ended several blocks away. When we reached that intersection, she told me to turn right. I did so and went to turn the music up slightly, so we weren't sitting in what I perceived as an awkward silence.

As I reached for the dial, Clare spoke up, "Can you not?" It wasn't rude. Her tone was more desperate. I retracted my hand and returned it to the wheel. "Thanks." We followed the street for about five minutes. At this point she said, "You can drop me off at this stop sign."

The stop sign was at an intersection in front of a park. "Are you sure, Clare? I could take you home." I offered.

"Don't worry about it." I applied pressure to the brake and let her get out of the car. She grabbed her backpack and opened the door. After she had climbed out, she turned around and looked me dead in the eye, "Don't offer to drive us again."

My heart dropped into my stomach, and I nodded back to acknowledge her.

She shut the door with a firm push. I continued to sit at the stop sign as she walked away from the car. When she was out of sight, I felt a hot tear run over my cheek,