My Sunflower [h.s]

t h r e e

(video: Sunflower by nevershoutnever)

Out of curiosity, I skip over my previous action and immediately tap on my messages. Again, the sender is anonymous. I sigh, but read the message anyway.

Anonymous:
hey again. :) I was wondering if the beautiful girl in your profile picture is actually you. I mean, that would kind of defeat my purpose, wouldn't it? aha. anyway, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, but you're a very beautiful lady, and I love your blog. very positive. have a nice day/night. -lowkey admirer

When I finish reading, I laugh at the sender's sign off name. I really wish I knew who it was, so I could personally thank them instead of responding and it going on my blog. I'd rather just keep it between the two of us.

I decide to create a text post. I won't necessarily call the message sender out, but I will post something so that if they see it, they knows it's directed towards them. I begin to type and decide my secret message will suffice.

graysonlikesgraysocks:
just in case I have a lowkey admirer or two and they're curious, yes, the girl in
my profile photo is me. aha x

I smile in satisfaction and hope that the sender of those thoughtful messages takes notice of it. Maybe they will even like it or something, and I can figure out who it is to thank them properly. At the same time, I hope that one of my followers doesn't think that I'm conceded and think the world revolves around me.

I think it over, and I decide that I will leave the post up until tomorrow night. If there is no response, I will take it down and pretend it never happened.

•••••

My alarm goes off and my eyes fly open. I check the time out of habit and before getting out of bed, I open Tumblr. I'm quite eager to find out if the anonymous messenger has revealed themselves yet.

I have a bunch of new notifications, but no new messages. Four people followed me last night, and fourteen people liked my post. Some even replied with positive comments or thanks that I wasn't a fake, except for one girl who said the post itself made me sound like a fake. I roll my eyes and investigate every blog for a short amount of time.

Unfortunately, none of the accounts seem to be run by my anonymous admirer. I click my phone off and roll out of bed, feeling a bit defeated. I pick the wadded up pair of jeans off the ground before shaking them out and stepping into them. I'm honestly so bad about keeping my clothes clean or just keeping them out away in general. If I see something, I try to check if it is clean or not, but if I can't tell, I just put it on and go.

I glance at my alarm clock, hoping I'll have enough time to dig out my favorite long sleeve and put on some mascara. I'm not a fan of face-powder makeup whatcha-am-call-it, but I did like what the mascara did for me. It makes my golden eyes shine from behind my dark lashes.

Thankfully I find my shirt in time and I am able to put on the small amount of makeup before running out to see Solana before she's finished with breakfast.

"Good morning," Dad calls quietly. A chair rubs against the hardwood, creating an awful sound. Solana's red hair comes into view and she sets her plate down in the sink before walking over to me.

"Hey, Grayson. You're not gonna be all fancy anymore?" she asks. I shake my head and she nods. "Good, you look prettier this way."

Solana hugs me and runs out the front door, her sparkly cat book bag bouncing as she runs to her bus. I walk back to my bedroom to grab my bag and my phone, then return to the kitchen just as quickly.

I pull my hair to the side and weave a sloppy braid before tying it with a hair band. "What's for breakfast, Dad?"

"Sausage and egg in a tortilla," he says from the couch. I'm running a little late this morning, so he has already sat down to watch the news and drink his coffee.

I look around the kitchen before noticing a rather large tortilla wrap sitting on the counter. I could probably share it with Vie. I glance at the clock one last time before grabbing the burrito and leaving, calling out for my dad to have a good day.

•••••

When we pull up to the school, I hand Vie her half of the breakfast burrito. She thanks me graciously as we exit her car.

"So," she says before taking a bit. "What was yesterday all about, anyway?" Her naturally dark hair is blown around by the wind, and she still manages to look great.

"What do you mean?" I ask, playing coy.

Vie's dark brown eyes dart over to me as she devours her breakfast. "You know what I mean, Grayson Banks. You never just dress up out of the blue. Girl, during sixth grade, I couldn't even get you to brush your hair! So, what's going on? Is it Tanner?" she asks, excited. "I saw him talking to you yesterday in the hallway. Were you trying to make him love you? Because-" I cut her off.

"No, Vie. It's not Tanner. I'll tell you later," I say. Hopefully, I shut her down long enough. I'm thankful when she nods and takes my arm.

"I'm expecting all the details."

(tbh it may not seem like a big deal that Gray got all dressed up, but a lot of times when someone dresses casually and starts to fancy up a bit, they get questioned. I would know lol. just to clear it up haha.)