write me

1:10 p.m.

February 15.

Someone else was sitting at my usual spot, but she was with him–no, Oliver...–so it couldn't have mattered to me.

I think she was confessing to him. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, whether to think if Oliver would like the attention or not. Judging by his face, I guessed no, he did not.

I found out the truffle was the girl's, given to him yesterday–Decapitation of St. Valentine's Day. So he just gave one to me.

"I don't like truffles. I like chocolate covered fruit, but truffles are just okay," he said.

I just shrugged. I didn't eat the truffle anyway.

"You look upset?" I said, but it sounded more like an unsure question.

"Nope. Annoyed, but upset?" He waggled a finger. "Nah." He dug around in his backpack and pulled out a sandwich, cut in two triangles. Without even asking, he placed it in my hand.

I eyed it but made no motion to eat it.

"Peanut budder and jerry," he answered while chewing.

I picked it up slowly and took a small nibble.

"Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You have teeth!"

I gave him a look.

He shook his head and swallowed. "You're smiling a little. Is it my magnificent peanut butter and jelly sandwich?"

I frowned.

He shook his head again and finished eating his wordlessly.

I finished mine too.