A Few Hundred Poppies

13. Best Friend's Girlfriend

Okay. This is getting ridiculous.

Holding the blue sticky note in my hand, I banged my forehead against the locker door. In the familiar neat cursive, the words 'I'd prefer your kisses to the sun's, even in the bleakest winter' were written on the paper.

"If you're trying to cause concussion, check out jumping from a cliff. It'd be more efficient," West's deep voice chimed in and I almost smiled at his sarcasm. Almost. I turned to face West, now casually leaning against the locker beside me with a hand shoved in the pocket of his green school trousers, the thumb sticking out.

"Hi to you too," I grumbled, making a vain attempt to rub the tiredness from my eyes with a finger. As we made eye contact, the warmth of his brown eyes had a chamomile-tea effect on my mood.

"Ever and Lee broke up," he stated calmly, studying me as if he were trying to figure something out.

"I know. It sucks," I shut the locker door with a thud, leaning on it like him.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You're really over him, huh?"

"Um, duh? Let's ditch that subject already," I said, and we started to stroll to the cafeteria when a yawn escaped from my mouth from the lack of sleep last night. As I muffled it with the back of my hand, his gaze flickered to the blue paper clasped in my palm.

"What's that?" He asked, and I quickly shoved it into the pocket of my skirt.

"What's what?"

"You got another love letter?" he muttered casually, making me wring my hands sheepishly.

"It's not a letter, but, whoever this is, he needs to come clean," I replied. The two of us queued up behind two more students for the lunch. I waved to Troy and Art, who were sitting miserably at our table.

"Ever wasn't at practice today," he grumbled.

"And Lee's not here either," I added. Then, Even though West had been standing before me in the line, he stepped aside to let me take my tray first. I squealed internally.

"Where's your twin?" I asked Art as soon as I slid in opposite to Troy and her.

"She's got a headache from crying over Ever," grimacing, she toyed with the salad bowl on her tray (it was Fresh Friday, as the lunch lady so enthusiastically asserted every week).

By the time lunch ended, all of us were thoroughly depressed. Which was a little funny, since West hadn't been around long enough to be bothered so much. But sadness is one contagious motherfucker.

-

"Psst! Lee! Can I have a pencil?" In the seat in front of me, Lee visibly stiffened, but she didn't turn around. From beside her, Art turned to look at me and pursed her lips, meaning that she'd had enough of Lee's antics too, and handed me her Faber Castell. It was Monday, and everyone was blue anyways, but Lee hadn't talked to any of us since morning. While Ever didn't completely ignore our existence, he was obviously hungover from the breakup.

I hurriedly scrawled down the notice from the whiteboard. A while later, the bell rang out sharply, making Mr. Gonzales click his tongue in displeasure (he loved lecturing almost as much as Physics). I meandered through the swarm of students strolling out to Lee and called after her.