cliche | choi soobin

white clovers

Remember when people only received flowers on Valentine's Day or their birthday? 

That doesn't apply here.

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The story starts on Monday. Just a random Monday in a normal high school with (somewhat) normal students.

Lockers line each hallway, the rusty blue metal an eyesore, especially against the faded yellow walls. The locks are a nightmare, especially since not a single student knows how to work the manual number lock.

All except one person. Gina.

She's the only person that she knows who uses the locker. Everyone else breaks their backs, attempting to carry everything in their bags. 

She laughs to herself as she walks past people in the hallways struggling to carry everything. Am I . . . better than everyone else? 

She spins the dial on the lock, absent-mindedly going through the motions. Her thoughts are cut short when a flower falls to the ground, along with a note.

Tilting her head curiously, she picks it up, instantly recognizing it as a white clover, one you would see in an overgrown yard.

Flipping the note over, she begins to read the small slanted writing.

white clover - think of me

is that too much to ask?

Gina looks over her shoulder, pinching her lips together to hide how flustered she is. Swallowing hard and trying to calm her heartbeat, she rereads the note. The handwriting is unfamiliar but neat. She flips the paper over again, disappointed when that's all the note says.

Maybe there will be another one tomorrow.