“It’s Sunday” I sighed, my mother always shouted what day it was when she was making her cup of coffee. I sat in my window sill holding a book that held a note I was supposed to give to my best friend, Nora.
It was written by the boy I had spent most of my childhood with, we were backyard buddies, along with school mates. I looked one last time at the letter between the pages, and felt another painful blow to my heart. The letter was a question, a very simple one. But it still made a tear creep down my cheek. My Mark had asked out the worst possible person, my very best friend. I mean, I knew he wasn’t hurting me on purpose, he didn’t know I secretly was in love with him. But it still really hurt.
I closed the book, climbed out my window, and headed to Nora’s house. She was busy petting her new kitten, Tanya. I tapped her on the shoulder, she looked up with her pretty blue eyes.
“Here,” I spoke dully. “From Mark, pg. 16” I forced a smile, then turned and ran home before she saw my tears.