Through Your Notes

Monday

Monday

4.08 p.m.

Annie smiles at her phone.

She's been blushing and smiling to herself.

"What are you smiling at?" I ask, faking a smile.

She glances at me. "Oh. Nothing, nothing."

"Who are you texting?" I ask.

"No one." She shrugs.

"Oh."

She lied.

I saw her phone.

She's texting You.

9.30 p.m.

I search for my poem I put up yesterday. There's a yellow post-it note pasted at the corner of my poem. It says:

Tell him you
like him.

I take down my yesterday's poem. I replace it with the new one.

My note is gone.

I search for my pen and notebook. I write my reply. I tear the paper. I put a thumbtack to hold my note on the board.

I smile at it.

I take down the post-it note. I put it in my bag.

I head home.

'Why am I afraid of losing him
when he's not even mine?'