It had been like any other day for Brad Simpson. He sat through his first three classes like usual. He went to lunch and sat with his friends like usual. He followed Tristan through the door of his European History class like usual.
But something was different.
Under the desk he usually sat at, there was bright orange sticky note with a note written by a girl named September Adams.
Brad took his seat in the back of the classroom behind Tristan. He set his bag on the floor by his chair and pulled out his textbook like he did every other day. He watched Mr. Thompson pass out the guided notes worksheet to each row. As the teacher began to give his lecture, Brad listened as best he could. He had never really liked history. Normally, Brad was really good about remembering things. He could easily remember every chord and lyric to his songs or random facts he had picked up, but when it came to memorizing history, he struggled greatly.
As Brad tried to pay attention to everything Mr. Thompson said, his pen ran out of ink. Bending down to dig for another pen in his bag, the color of orange caught his eye.
A sticky note was stuck under his desk.
He peeled the piece of paper away from the desk. As he sat up in his seat, he read the note written in black ink.
Hi to whoever finds this. I sit in your seat during fourth block. Is your class as boring as mine or do you like history?
~ September Adams
September, Brad thought. He thought back to all of the girls he knew that attended his school. He knew no one by that name and he was pretty sure that he would remember a girl with the name September. It was unique.
Brad leaned forward. "Tristan," he whispered. The blonde boy in front of him turned around. "Do you know someone named September?"
Tristan's eyebrows knitted together,. He, too, couldn't place a face to a name. "No, why?"
Brad's brown eyes looked back at the neat handwriting. Should he tell his friend about the sticky note? Lifting his gaze back up to Tristan, the boy shook his head. "No reason."
Tristan shrugged his friend off before turning back around in his chair to listen to the lecture.
Clicking the button on his blue inked pen, the boy thought up something he could write back to the mystery girl. He wanted to make it clever and charming, while also not too desperate.
Finally deciding on what to write, Brad began to scrawl out his words underneath September's note.
Hello, love, I sit in this seat in the block after you. I found your note trying to find a pen and yes, my class is just as boring as yours. Thompson is the worst. I'd much rather be in the band room. How come I don't recognize you?
~ Bradley Simpson (aka Brad)
P.S. I like your name
After re-reading his somewhat sloppy handwriting, Brad stuck the orange note back in its place under the desk. Just as he sat up, the bell rang excusing the class. As he stood from his seat, he slipped his bag over his shoulder. Following Tristan out of the classroom, they headed down the hall to their next class.
His mind raced with thoughts about the mystery girl. His eyes shifted over all of the girls that walked through the crowded hallway. What if she was walking by him right now and he had no idea?
It just so happened that Brad was walking beside her.
September unknowingly followed the person who had answered her note into their only shared class, creative writing.
