Her Suicide Note

Chapter Six

Bianca
A dozen blood red roses and a heart-shaped box of chocolates greet me Monday morning when I open my locker. The stems of the roses are surrounded by a box stuffed with foam and when I pull them out, I see they're nestled in a glass vase, a bunch of flags of the Caribbean from Anguilla to the Virgin Islands etched into the smooth surface.
As I pop a caramel-filled chocolate into my mouth, I feel a presence behind me and I have a pretty good idea on who it is. Setting the roses and chocolate back into their place, I slowly turn and see Adrian on one knee, his chest puffed out as if preparing himself for battle.
"Okay," he begins. "I'm ready. Hit me."
I quirk an eyebrow upwards, slightly amused. "Really? Is this how our relationship is?"
He grins. "We have a relationship?"
I instantly straighten, clearing my throat. "No, we don't," I state firmly. "What're these for?" I gesture to the new gifts in my locker.
"They're apology gifts," Adrian explains, slowly rising from the ground. "I completely crossed the line with what I said Friday night. It was totally uncalled for and I've been feeling crappy about it ever since."
"Well, don't be," I tell him. "You were just stating what you see when you look at me: a pushover, right?"
He shakes his head so hard, his neck is dangerously close from snapping. "No, that's not it at all-okay, maybe some of the things I said I really believed, but I don't think of you as a pushover at all. I should've never made those assumptions and I'm gonna make it up to you."
"How?" I ask, growing more uncomfortable the longer he talked.
"I'm gonna work for you," Adrian states simply.
I frown. He lost me. "Work for me?"
"Yeah. You know, hold the door open for you, carry your books, get you whatever you ask for-"
"Be my butler?" I interrupt completely bewildered. "Aren't the early Valentine gifts enough?"
Adrian shakes his head firmly. "Nope. They're just the beginning."
I sigh, scratching my hairline. "Adrian, I think we should just stay away from each other. That'll be best for both of us." Especially me.
I can't get Lisa's last words to me out of my mind. Guys like Nathan and Adrian are nothing but trouble and I refuse to go down the same path Lisa blindly stumbled down.
Not to mention that even the principal warned us about the upperclassmen when we came for Summer Bridge. They knew the juniors and seniors dirty tricks and they are supposed to have forgotten the anatomy of the teenage mind.
Who am I to associate myself with this guy and not expect to get hurt in some way in the process?
"I just want to help," Adrian says which makes me wonder how long the silence between us stretched.
"You want to help?" I question, my irritation spilling over my lips. "Then take a good look at me and determine whether you think I want it or not."
Slamming my locker closed, I stomp away, leaving him with furrowed brows and hurt feelings.

I have never quite gotten how I can be good at math, but hate it so dearly. What makes the class even worse is Adrian's assigned seat behind me. I can practically feel his breath down the back of my exposed neck.
"Yeah, breath harder, Adrian, the hairs on my neck thank you," I turn around to whisper to him as Mr. Bell passes out worksheets.
"Sorry," he grumbles, his shoulders touching his earlobes.
He looks so sad. He's the goofball of the class and makes Algebra II more bearable for me even though I had never been personal with him before. To see him down and out like this, and knowing that I caused it makes guilt twist my stomach inside out.
I'm not sure what I was expecting. Maybe for him to just keep taking my bitchiness or maybe even finally leaving me alone. The last thing I thought would be for my words to hit multiple nerves.
No, the cruel side of my conscience tells me sternly. He's going to leave you alone from now on. You did the right thing this morning.
But couldn't I have found a better way to get him off my back? I question Devil Bianca. I can basically taste Adrian's sadness from here and it goes from being sour to leaving a metallic taste in the back of my throat. Couldn't I have maybe said what I did a nicer way?
No! Devil B's screech seems to ring throughout the room even though I know it's just in my head. He's one of those guys that you have to be mean to in order for them to get the hint. Don't give in. Be. Strong!
I think you should give him a chance.
Finally! I say to Angel Bianca exasperatedly. I was wondering when you were gonna put your two cents in.
Stay out of this, Devil B growls at her counterpart. I'm trying to give the girl a backbone here.
Hey, I say, offended, but it's like she doesn't hear me.
I'm not saying be a push over, Angel B explains to me. But give the guy a chance. You might realize he's not the one you have to watch out for.
But what about Lisa and her note? I ask Angel B. I can't just toss her warning aside. That piece of paper holds her last words and I want to abide by them.
I'm not saying trust him with your life, Angel B replies. But if you give him even the smallest opening, you may be surprised on what he does and how wrong your assumptions have been.
Devil B, what do you say about all of this? I question the cruel part of my conscience.
No comment.

I bounce on the balls of my feet as Adrian takes the longest time to pack up his math stuff. Is he making me wait on purpose?
When he zips his backpack up and slowly rises from his seat, he says in a tired voice, "I get it, you don't want anything to do with me, but I really am sorry, Bianca."
"Look," I start off. "I've been thinking." More like Angel B has forced me to consider. "Maybe letting you prove yourself to me wouldn't be all that bad."
His expression lights up the tiniest bit. "You can be my butler, or whatever you want to call yourself, but I'm not your friend and probably never will be. Just please don't expect me to give you more than I can."
"That's perfectly fine," he assures, giving me a toothy grin.
He steps forward, his arms outstretched which makes me take a step back. As if just realizing where he is and who he's talking to, he drops his arms and moves away as well. "Sorry," he mutters quickly. "Can I walk you to class?"
"Isn't that going to make you late?" I question.
"Ms. Woodwork doesn't care," he says, waving my question away. "As long as I'm there before ten minutes after the bell."
With that, he takes the English notebook and White Day binder out of my hand and tucks it into his side. He keeps the classroom door open with his foot as he gestures out into the hall. "After you, madam."
A giggle escapes against my will and I, unsuccessfully, cough to try and cover it, but it's too late. His grin has gotten so big, it's near splitting his face and he bends forward at the waist as if I'm royalty.
Rolling my eyes, I force myself to move my feet forward, accepting his chivalry as Mr. Bell glances at the two of us curiously.