“My locker seems to have become the hub for sticky notes and nasty letters, none of which I ever see actually being placed on or in my locker. I really don’t get what people gain out of doing things like this if they don’t even own up to it.Like the note that was stuck to my locker this morning. All it said was, “Whore.”Really? Where’s the creativity in that? They couldn’t back it up with an interesting story? Maybe a few details of my indiscretion? If I have to read this shit every day, the least they could do is make it interesting. If I was going to stoop so low as to leave an unfounded note on someone’s locker,I’d at least have the courtesy of entertaining whoever reads it in the process. I’d write something interesting like, “I saw you in bed with my boyfriend last night. I really don’t appreciate you getting massage oil on my cucumbers. Whore.” I laugh and it feels odd, laughing out loud at my own thoughts. I look around and no one is left in the hallway but me. Rather than rip the sticky notes off of my locker like I probably should, I take out my pen and make them a little more creative. You’re welcome, passersby.”

“I feel vulnerable. I I try to mask my emotions, but I feel like everyone knows what I’m thinking and feeling, and I don’t like it. I don’t like being an open book. I feel like I’m up on the stage, pouring my heart out to him, and it scares the hell out of me.”

“I still remember my middle school locker combination. Maybe I should go back to my old locker to see if I left my innocence in there.”

“You’re attracted to me?” “Oh, God,” I groan. “That’s the last thing you need for your ego.” “That’s probably true,” he laughs. “Better hurry up and insult me before my ego gets as big as yours.” “You need a hair cut,” I blurt out. “Really bad. It gets in your eyes and you squint and you’re constantly moving it out of the way like you’re Justin Bieber and it’s really distracting.”

“Speaking of… does this mean you get your phone back?” I shrug. “I don’t really want that phone back. I’m hoping my whipped boyfriend will get me an iPhone for Christmas.”

“I turn to head outside when the boys make their way back into the house. Kel stops in the doorway and puts his hands on his hips, then looks up at me. “Are you my sister’s boyfriend?” I’m thrown off by his directness. I pull my jacket on and shake my head. “Um, no. Just her friend.”“She told my mom you were taking her on a date. I thought only boyfriends took girls on dates.”“Well,” I pause. “Sometimes boys take girls on dates to see if they want them to be their girlfriend.”I notice Caulder standing beside me, taking in the conversation as if he’s just as curious. I wasn’t prepared to have to explain the rules of dating right now. “So it’s like a test?” Caulder asks. “To see if you want Layken to be your girlfriend?”I shrug and nod. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”Kel laughs. “You aren’t gonna like her. She burps a lot. And she’s bossy. And she never lets me drink coffee, so she probably won’t let you have any, either. And she has really bad taste in music and sings way too loud and leaves her bras all over the house. It’s gross.” I laugh. “Thanks for the warning. You think it’s too late to back out now?” Kel shakes his head, missing my sarcasm completely. “No, she’s already dressed so you have to take her now.”I sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “Well, it’s just a few hours. Hopefully she won’t burp a lot and boss me around and steal my coffee and sing to her really bad music and leave her bra in my car.”Or hopefully she will.”

“What in the hell happened to your eye?” I laugh and roll off the bed, out of harm’s way. “You happened.” I make my way toward the window. “I need to clear my head. I’m gonna go for a run. Wanna come?”   Six crinkles up her nose. “Yeah… no. You have fun with that.”