Snowflakes

December 16th

16th

"Secrets have a way of making themselves felt, even before you know there's a secret." - Jean Ferris

Jay gives me a lift to school again on Tuesday. He may be arrogant and annoying some of the time, but my brother does has his perks. As I proclaim what an outstanding big brother he is (in the hope of snagging myself a few more lifts this week) I remember Immy's absence from school yesterday. I pull my phone from my pocket and quickly type out a text.

To: Immy

You coming in today? x

From: Immy

Yeah see you in a bit. x

Suddenly, my mind goes back to a conversation I had with James a while ago now, and it occurs to me that I still haven't enquired with Imogen about it.

To: Immy

By the way, what do you think of James? the one in my maths class x

This time her response isn't as rapid; I find myself twiddling my thumbs in the minutes she takes to respond.

From: Immy

I'm almost at school, i'll talk to you when I get there x

I can't help but smile; that isn't the response of someone who has nothing to say.

I do see Imogen at school, a matter of minutes after she texted me, and I don't even give her a second to prepare before I pounce.

"So?" I say, voice hopeful.

"So...?" she replies, but the dusting of pink on her cheeks betrays her act of ignorance.

"Soo, what do you think of James?"

"Um, I sit behind him in French. Kind of geeky. Completely unpopular. Why?" Immy replies, in a monotone voice as if she's reciting her shopping list rather than someone's personal qualities.

I choose not to specifically answer her question, instead returning with one of my own. "Do you like him enough to go out with him?"

She blushes properly then, her pale cheeks burning, as she shrugs. I notice her index finger twisted around a lock of her dark brown hair, twirling it subconsciously. "Depends, I suppose."

I'm about to enquire further when our form tutor marches in purposefully, ordering the class to be silent.

Talk to you later. I mouth at Immy to which she nods, the colour in her cheeks gradually fading.

My paper crane from yesterday is awaiting me when I open my locker at break. Also waiting for me is a bunch of white roses. I eagerly reach out and grab them. They're beautiful. The corners of my lips twitch up into a small, private smile as I place them back into my locker to collect at the end of the day. A couple of people are looking at me, which isn't surprising since I look as though I've stepped into a romantic movie. Unlike normally, I don't cower from their stares.

"Hey, you." I recognise Immy's voice straight away and turn my head to see her bounding towards the lockers. Although her body language suggest she's excited, her voice lacks the enthusiasm. "I was speaking to Kayleigh today."

This makes me scowl and she holds her hands up in mock-defense. "It's not my fault! She just started talking to me in the middle of History!"

"What did she say?" I ask in a flat voice. Imogen doesn't even stop and ponder for a second on her choice of words; she's clearly been practising already.

"Basically, Kayleigh explained that you used to be popular and that you are glad you aren't anymore. I knew that, but apparently you told Ed more detail. Seriously, out of everyone you know you told Ed Kearney who you've known for, like, two days but not me? I've been your best friend since you moved here yet I don't get to hear your tragic back-story?" Her last sentence strikes at something in me.

"My tragic backstory?" I retort, struggling to keep my frustration at bay. "I told Ed the exact same I told you months ago! There is no backstory. That is all there is," I lie through gritted teeth. "I'm not some broken little girl who feeds on the sympathy of other people."

"Really?" says Imogen. "Is that why you constantly avoid all my questions about, like, anything?"

My eyebrows knot together in frustration, trying to think up a response that wouldn't involve having to explain the anonymous gifts that are always the highlight of my day. For some reason, I still feel compelled to keep it a secret. Maybe I'm worried that Immy - with her big, bright, bubbly personality - might ruin how special and private it all seems.

"Scarlett, you're so secretive, sometimes I wonder if it's me. Perhaps I'm the reason you don't share your inner thoughts," Imogen says, voice laced with spite.

"No! It's not you; it's - ah - me." I wince as the horrendously cliché line leaves my lips. Could I seriously not think of anything better than that?

Imogen shakes me from my internal scolding with a short, humourless laugh. I can tell by the look in her eyes that nothing I say will make a difference to her opinion toward me.

"You know, Scarlett, I have no idea what is up with you recently. You're avoiding my questions, hiding things from me, meeting up with people you barely know and spilling out your life story to them whilst I'm left in the dark. We're supposed to be best friends. That's what best friends are supposed to: trust each other. I've told you so many of my secrets, you know me practically as well as I know myself, yet you still just don't want to tell me anything. Seriously, I don't even want to be your friend until you sort yourself out and stop acting so... weird."

I sigh, my good mood from today's gift completely drained from me by my best friend's bitter words.

note: bet you didn't expect this, right?? after putting this book on hold over the spring/summer, i'm back! i was planning to continue and complete this in december but i've already got a few chapters written and i'm already in the christmas spirit lol

i hope you enjoyed this surprise chapter, i've loved the amount of support this has recieved even during its hiatus. taking a break from it has given me a chance to edit the previously uploaded chapters and get my ideas in (further) order in my head so now i'm back and ready to complete this and make it bettet than before :)