The air smells deeply of perfume, hairspray, and freshly cleaned hardwood floors. Once again, I sit in my lamp-lit desk in the back of the theatre discreetly, patching up a gown someone had once again, to my displeasure, ripped. I mean honestly, how many times does your mom NEED to see you try on your costume? We all know you’re the lead already, stop making my job harder. Quietly rushing home, I shut my lamp off carefully and head home for the night.


My name is Amelia Jane Mariner. I’m a Sophomore at my high school, and I love our drama department. The only problem? I can’t act. So, due to my artistry
with sewing, I am the costume designer. Don’t get me wrong though, this job is tough! I come before and after school everyday to work on costumes. (I mean- I’m by myself here!) …But more importantly than any of that, I get the privilege, the honor, to stare at Graham William West all day long.

I know, cliché right? The totally dorky girl in the background falls for the cute guy in the spotlight, once again. But this time it’s unique; a story that is it’s own individual. I know more secrets about him than anyone should ever know. We’ve been best friends since I can’t remember. Graham and I are both, for the lack of a better word, orphans. We live at the same house, with our “mom” Mrs. Dannie. Weird, right? I mean, of course I’d have the biggest, most monumental crush on him. I see him every day, all day long. He eats meals with me, falls asleep in the room next to me, and walks with me to school. He’s my best friend, and a complete GEM.

He’s probably got the most genuine green eyes I’ve ever seen. He has a few freckles on his face; thirteen to be exact. He has luscious brown, short-cut swooping hair, and he’s the right kind of tall. Just thinking about him makes my heart pump twice what it normally does. Most of that extra blood, by the way, usually rushes to my cheeks. Yeah. I’m a blusher.


Today is a Tuesday, a day that I despise. It’s the one day out of the entire week that I don’t get to walk with Graham. (I have to leave insanely early every Tuesday, it’s the day when I have to work over time on costumes.) Rolling out of bed, literally, I wander to my closet. Jeans and a hoodie should do for the day, right? I quickly French-braid my hair, and tie a ribbon in.
“Aim.” At this, my heart sky rockets. It’s Graham, leaning against more door frame, standing there, so unknowingly beautiful. Plus, he’s in the flannel plaid pajama pants I bought him for Christmas last year. Aw.
“Yeah?” I ask, jumping away from the mirror.
“You going to school early today?”
“Yeah, have to finish Alice’s… I mean, Bridget’s costume.”
“Oh, cool. Could you do me a favor?”

You idiot, how in a million years could I ever NOT do whatever you ask me? That’s just a stupid question. You know I have to say yes.
“Sure!”
“Cool, thanks. Throw this note in Bridget’s cubby for me, okay?”

I think my heart just stopped. Someone call 911. I can’t breathe. I’m drowning. I’m suffocating. God, save me!
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Thanks Aims. See you at school. You’re the best.”

I quickly snatch the note he dropped on my bed, and shove it in my pocket. Sure I’ll give her the note! And while you’re at it, can you get the knife out of my back for me? Thanks. Grabbing my backpack, I rush out of the house, and storm my way out onto the sidewalk.


***

Dang it. How could I have stabbed my finger with a needle again? What ever. I finished the dress, so that’s all that matters. The “Alice” costume looked amazing. To bad Bridget would have to ruin it by putting it on her body. You see, we’ve decide to make an alternative play to Alice in Wonderland. This time, The Mad Hatter falls in love with Alice. The Queen of Hearts gets jealous, and uses the bunny to ruin their love. I’ll give you two guesses as to who gets to kiss all over Graham.

OH CRAP. Speaking of Graham, I still needed to put the note in Bridget’s locker. I meant to put it in there this morning, but I guess I’ll just have to do it now. But as I pull the note out of my pocket, and stare at the white paper, I can feel my pulse thumping in my wrists. My hands are shaking, and my head is racing. I can’t read it. But GOD, I want to read this. I have to.


Bridget,

I’d love to treat you to a smoothie, call me if you want to hang out! (:

Love,
Your Mad Hatter.


I fold the note over slowly. I race across the room, shoving the horrible piece of paper into her cubby. I quickly grab my bag, switch off my light, and run out of the theatre. As I book down the empty hallway, my eyes start to water. But then I hear someone calling for me.
“Aims! AIMS!” Graham had been sitting next to the theater door, waiting for me to come out. Crap.

Sharply, I come to a complete stop, and jerk around. I stand, waiting in my place for him to catch up. I droop my head down to hide my increasingly wet eyes.
“Aims, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I j-just want to go home, okay?”
“…okay.”

On the walk home, I walk a little faster than usual. Graham tries to keep up, but I walk too quickly. He trails behind slowly, giving up on chasing me. When I reach the front door, I swing it open quickly. Man, how had I not realized how cold it is outside? Graham finally reaches the front steps, and follows me inside. I start the climb up the long stairs, walk to the end of the dim hall, pull the attic door down, and walk into the dark room. It was a little warmer up here, so I crawl onto the couch and throw my backpack harshly onto the floor. Then something falls out of the ratty bag.

It’s a picture of me and Graham last year at the fair, with Gina, one of the little girls who got adopted a few months later. That day was so fun. The sun was so warm; I finally got to wear my cute pink shorts and my ruffle tank. Graham took me on my first roller coaster and we split the biggest funnel cake I’d ever seen…

My eyes began to water rapidly. I tried to hold the tears in, so I craned my head back in a failing attempt. They just spilt over. Man, I was really hopelessly in love with this guy. But that’s the thing about love. You don’t choose who you fall for. You can’t choose how they feel about you. My heartbreak had been on it’s way for years; I knew this. Of course Graham would find girlfriends. I mean; look at him. But I, on the other hand, only had eyes for him. How stupid of me.

Taking my feet from underneath me, I crawled off the spot on the floor where I had been sitting with the picture. I lie back onto the soft couch, and fall asleep.

----Graham’s POV-----

Aims is still in the attic. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I mean, I waited for her to come out of theater, and she was crying when she came out. Maybe she couldn’t fix a rip in a costume? Like I would know. Mrs. Dannie wants me to check on her, but I mean, what am I going to say. Hey, Aims, I know you’re probably bawling your eyes out, but do you want to talk about it? Obviously she wants to be alone, but I mean…she missed dinner!

SHE MISSED DINNER. That’s a reason to come up and talk to her! Stumbling off my bed, I run downstairs. Dinner. Dinner. Dinner. I swing open the old fridge and grab the scalloped potatoes out of their container. Yes! Her favorite. I quickly heat her a bowl of soup and warm up the potatoes. Taking the plate carefully, I climb back up the stairs. Taking the draw-string in my hand, I pull the stairs down. I slowly, quietly step up the stairs. Crap, she’s asleep. Oh well. I guess I’ll wake her up. Setting the plate down on the side table next to the couch, I look over at Amelia.

Her eyes are really puffy. What happened to her? I sit in front of the couch, watching her sleep. She looks like a little baby, so helpless. I don’t have the heart to wake her up. Suddenly, a gust of wind seems to blows over me. Goose-bumps cover my arms entirely. I can’t let her sleep up here, it’s freezing now that it’s dark outside. There’s only one solution. Quickly, I grab the plate, and take it back downstairs. I wrap it in plastic wrap and shove it in between the milk and the butter tub. I grab a jacket from my room, throw it on, and head back up the attic quietly. Walking as slowly as possible, I debate on if I should really do this. I decide leaving her in the freezing room is a rude thing to do, so I slide my hands underneath her. I bend my knees and stand up, carrying her bridal-style. She’s actually really small, so this wasn’t a hard task at all, to my surprise. Carefully, I walk down the steps and down towards her room. When inside, I pulled her covers back and set her down. Covering her again, I watched as she slept. She was so warm, I could feel the imprint of heat she had left on me, despite the fact that she had been sitting in a freezing attic. I felt creepy. I think I’d seen her sleep enough. I walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

Down the hallway I go, and into my room. Deciding I was tired enough, I began to change into my pajamas. When pulling off my jacket, I noticed something strange. It smelt really good. Like, insanely good. Like that frosting that goes on warm cinnamon buns good. It was Aim’s scent. For some reason, I didn’t want to take the jacket off.
But what about Bridget?