deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 7 - His Note

The rest of the week is absolutely miserable.

During lunch, I refuse to sit with my friends. Although Tori and Elizabeth haven't wronged me in any way, they sit with Rachel, who has, and who I refuse to sit with.

On Thursday morning, Elizabeth walks into the bathroom before school as I'm washing my hands. She sees me, and walks towards me. Our eyes meet in the mirror.

"Sage," she finally says, gently. "Why don't you sit with us at lunch today?"

"Because you're sitting with Rachel at lunch today, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah... But I think Rach is sorry, Sage. Why don't you give her a chance?"

"Why don't I give her a chance? Why should I? I haven't forgiven her, for your information, and I likely never will. Sorry."

"Don't say sorry to me about that."

"I won't be saying it to anyone else, will I? The whole school still thinks of me as the slut who slept with Griezmann. I mean, I think both of us have convinced at least some people that it was all Turner's lie, but most people haven't believed us. I mean, Neymar certainly hasn't, and he's got the whole school bowing at his knees, as you know." I give her side eyes, knowing that she's one of those people bowing at Neymar's command.

"Yeah, I know... Could you please at least give it a shot, Sage? It makes me so sad to see you sitting alone like that, and lunch isn't the same without you."

"That's a flat out lie. I never talk, anyway."

"Sage, don't say that. I love your company."

"You like Rachel's more." I finish drying my hands and walk out of the bathroom, leaving her in there by herself to take my words to heart.

So, since I've been avoiding my friends, at lunchtime I just simply go outside at lunch and sit by myself on a bench, eating.

It's really lonely, but I'd rather be alone than have Rachel's company.

But Rachel and everyone staring and not believing me when I tell them it was a lie from Turner isn't even the worst part of it all.

The worst part, believe it or not, is Health.

On Monday, Griezmann was relatively indifferent, and was very serious about just sticking to the work that had to get done.

Apparently it took a day for the rude comments to slip into his speech. He's mad at me. He thinks it's all my fault, which actually, he's probably right about that. I think it is all my fault, but it's really hard working with him, because he makes sure I don't forget that. It's also really hard, because despite him being a jerk, I still can't help but having feelings for him, even though, honestly, I think it would make my life a lot easier if I just stopped liking him.

But I can't. I've tried. I just can't stop liking him. It's honestly quite annoying. Really annoying.

On Friday afternoon, when we start Health, Griezmann just keeps making rude comments.

Like, we are doing some researching on my chromebook, and he's asking me to do something I don't know how to do. He impatiently gives me instructions, and I try it, but I still do it wrong.

At that point he leans over, taking my chromebook from in front of me and muttering, "Oh my God, Sage. It's not that hard." And he does it easily.

I also say some information I have found in my own research time, and his response is simply, "Well, yeah, no sh- crap, Sherlock." He only says 'crap' because Mr. Levine threw him a nasty look.

Or when I offer more information, he says, rolling his eyes "Oh my God, were you even listening? I told you that already. How stupid are you?"

After that, I decide to stop giving ideas, if he's just going to be like that.

But then he says, "Well, do you have anything else? Or is that it, because I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that's all you came up with."

That's when I lash out, and say way too loudly, "Griezmann, so, do you know how much of an asshole you're being? Because you really are being one! I said nothing wrong, and you just keep dismissing everything I say! And then when I stop talking because I don't want to deal with your stupid comments, you call my an idiot for it! There's no winning with you!"

That's when Jordan Henderson says loudly, "Ohhh, look, their having couple drama, guys!" And that causes a huge group of mostly boys, but also some girls, too, to start cracking up in hysterics. I glance at Rachel, seeing she's laughing, too.

Mr. Levine is walking towards me and Griezmann, and telling the class sternly to quiet down and get back to work.

But I can't handle it anymore, so I stand up, walk straight passed Mr. Levine, and run to the girl's bathroom to gather myself.

By the time my face is all washed up and I've calmed down, though, the bell has rung about ten minutes ago. At least that means the hallways will be mostly clear now.

I slowly walk to my locker, unlock it, and grab all my things.

But something catches my eye, on the top shelf. I grab a small slip of paper and curiously unfold it until it's normal size.

I turn it over, finding writing on it. I reads in horrible, unimpressive handwriting, done in a leacky blue gel pen:

Sage,

I'm sorry for what I did and said, and I'm not just saying that because Mr. Levine told me to say sorry or anything, because he actually didnt. I'm just saying this because I saw how upset you were and I realized how much of a jerk I was being. By the end of the day, I'm tried of school, and I just want to go out and dribble my football already. Also, of course I've been mad at you, but I realize, after thinkin about it, it was a mistake on your fault, and the rumors also aren't your fault. I'm sorry for everything, and I hope we can keep working on this Health project in cooperation with each other.

Antoine

Just reading this over and over again makes me want to cry, but this time because of happiness. I don't even mind that he mispelled tired as 'tried' and thinking as 'thinkin', or that he forgot the apostrophe in 'didnt'. I don't even mind. This is so heartwarming. It's so sweet. Now I know why I love this boy, and I never want to stop loving this boy. Ever.

Butterflies, too, just reading this. He took the time to write me a letter like this, and slip it in my locker through the vent, so I would read it. He's sorry, and that's all I need. He thought about it, and that's all I need. I don't even mind now. I don't even mind any of it anymore, because me and Griezmann are on good terms.

And to me, that's all that really matters.