Noted

FOUR

The note June expects in her locker doesn't arrive.

After everything that was said with the girls on Monday night, June is at loss for how she should act. A part of her feels relieved that she doesn't have to continue dealing with this problematic issue, that she can focus on what's more important with her life. Because let's be honest: Christian and June's rivalry is nothing but juvenile.

By Friday, all is calm. Christian doesn't appear to be fazed by the note. In fact, all he does is continue on with the daily glares that hold little to no weight and sharing that boisterous laughter of his that reminds June of a pissed-off duck.

The weekend rolls around without much happening. She still hasn't found her biology textbook, a stressful bubble she welcomes holy. Worst case scenario, she borrows a copy from the library.

By Sunday afternoon, June is convinced of the following:

First plausible outcome: Christian read her challenge and decided she shouldn't be messed with. It's clear that June is the superior one in this rivalry.

Second plausible outcome: He thinks she's all talk and no action, leading to believe replying will only be a waste of time, and prefers to shoot icy glares like he's a magical princess because that's as far as he's capable of doing.

June smiles.

"Have you ever thought of keeping your thoughts to yourself?" Phoebe asks, looking up from her phone. "They reek of Christian."

A look of disgust rains down on June's face. "I beg you never to say that again."

"And I beg you to stop thinking about him every two seconds."

"You've got it all wrong," June assures, flicking over Phoebe's math textbook. "It's not that deep."

The expression Phoebe gives her makes June wonder where the hell her head is at. She decides to give her a bone.

"Since you're dying to know, I was thinking about —"

"The note," Phoebe finishes, scrolling on her phone. "I figured."

June raises a brow. "Seriously, Bee?"

She doesn't like what her friend is implying, but Phoebe has long since passed given a shit, and that's what makes June's friendship with her feel authentic. She likes to be challenged — likes the competitive edge that so few offer. It makes her think, makes her body waken with a refreshing perspective.

What she doesn't like is any form of implications relating to Christian.

"We talked about this," Phoebe says. "You said you're not going to let this get out of hand and that you'll stop." A humourless laugh. "I don't see that."

"What don't you see?"

"You letting this go." She leans straighter against June's bedroom wall, legs crossing over, nudging June's ankles. "We've all seen how on edge you've been. It's like you want him to retaliate."

June stares at her desk where her laptop rests and layers of bookshelves line the wall, all filled with various books and game covers in perfect coordination, from size to colours, exactly the way she likes it. It reminds her how her need for control is only limited by her imagination. All it takes is a bit of prep work, a bit of commitment. That's what her dad always says.

People aren't any different.

"What I want is to know what he's thinking." The textbook in her lap keeps her centered.

Phoebe frowns. "Why?"

"So I'm prepared."

"Prepared? For what, war?" Her friend rolls her eyes. "Jesus fuck, it's just a note with words that mean absolutely nothing."

"Maybe to everyone else."

"What exactly are you hoping to come out of this, June? There's no logic behind any of this. The guy has his own life to worry about. You have your own to worry about, what with university applications approaching and your job interview next week. For the past two years, you've let this guy bleed into your brain and it's messing up your priorities. You've got to let this go."