tratie oneshots

{ forever and always }

words: 1890

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- 3rd Grade -

Katie attempted to ignore the jeers of the other children, turning on her heel to walk towards the other end of the playground, but she couldn't stop the lone tear from trailing its way down her cheek.

She made her way to the swingset and sat down, kicking the mulch absentmindedly, when she heard someone approach her.

Not bothering to check who it was, she crossed her arms over her chest and pretended they weren't there.

Until the person spoke up, and Katie groaned at the all-too-familiar voice, "What's wrong, Katie-kat?"

"Nothing."

"Sure." turning to face him, she spied Travis rolling his eyes, "What's actually wrong?"

Why did it have to be Travis? Of course this was the day Miranda came down with the flu, and Lacy was getting braces. Of course her enemy was the only person at school that would kind of want to talk to her, even if they were only arguing.

But Travis seemed different, more subdued than usual, as if he actually cared, which would be absurd.

"Nothing," she repeated, but her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, ruining the façade of indifference that was already only half-convincing.

He sighed, "Fine. But if you ever want a good prank, you know where to find me." he tipped his imaginary hat in mock politeness, before turning to leave.

Now it was Katie's turn to roll her eyes, reaching out her hand to shake in their typical enemies-on-a-friendly-basis manner, "Enemies?"

"Forever."

- 7th Grade -

Katie cringed every time the tip of Travis's pencil hit the newly polished desk surface, creating a darker mark every time.

Of all things the school board could've spent their new funding on, they chose desk polish. Not updated textbooks, or actually-working locks for the lockers. No, desk polish was the most logical way to spend the money.

Katie shook her head slightly at the thought, and saw Travis raise his eyebrow in question from across their shared table.

They had grown even further apart over the years, and yet every single year without fail, they were made deskmates in at least one class.

Rolling her eyes at him, she attempted to focus her attention back on the science lesson, but her mind wandered away from the photosynthesis lecture almost immediately.

She had been studying plants since she was seven, so she already knew most of the material.

Travis was also staring off into space, she observed, but he most definitely was not educated on photosynthesis.

Zoning out even more, she began to doodle a rose on the corner of her worksheet, right as she felt something hit her forearm.

It was the tip of Travis's pencil.

And taped onto it was a miniscule, folded piece of notebook paper.

Mentally face-palming herself for even acknowledging the note's existence, she removed it and rolled her eyes at Travis as she opened it.

Photosynthesis is boring.

Scribbling a quick response next to his writing, she passed it back to him.

I don't think it's boring.

Travis smirked and shook his head slightly when he read her response, quickly adding to the conversation and sliding the paper back across the desk.