The In-Between

Sometimes I felt like I was on autopilot, going through the same exact motions every single day.

Wake up. Get dressed. School. Eat. Homework. Shower. Bed. Repeat.

Which it isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I'm not sure if that could be counted as good.

I'm wasn't complaining though, not at all. But I just wished if things could just be a little different, a little more memorable.

"Babe?" Logan said, trying to get my attention.

"Sorry, I guess I'm a little tired this morning. It's one of those Mondays," I said giving a small half smile. He put his arm around my shoulder and guided me into the noisy hallways. I leaned into his touch and smiled.

Logan and I had been going out for about six months now. We met in history class, both of us happened to sit right next to each other. We were your typical high school sweethearts. We were happily in love. He cared about me more than anyone else ever did. And in return I showed him my heart.

We were inseparable. I thought we were invincible. How stupid was I.

Logan steered us into our history class and into our normal seats. We sat in the back of the room, able to pass notes back and forth all class long. We wrote sappy little love notes and song lyrics and smiles and hearts.

How pathetic we were.

The bell rang and everyone was seated. A folded sheet of paper was on my desk in front of me. I opened it and read I love you.

I heard the door open as I scribbled back a reply. The teacher mumbled my name and I looked up. "Right there," he said pointing in my direction. Next to him was a girl with bleach blonde hair, almost white. Her hair was messy and wild, but yet it still looked good. She had a model quality look to her that most girls would kill for.

In that instant, I envied her. Her thin body. Her photogenic face. The vibe she gave off.

She was everything that I wasn't.

"Class, this is Phoenix George, our new student," Mr. Bateman said. She started moving toward me and sat in the empty desk in front of me.

I went back to my note, ending it with an I love you and folded it up. I was about to pass it back when the teacher called on me and I dropped the note.

"Uh, could you repeat that?" I asked sheepishly.

"Pay attention next time." He gave a stern look before returning to the lesson.

I went to go pick up the note to see that it was gone. I looked over to Logan who was scribbling away notes on his notebook. And suddenly the note was back on my desk again.

When I opened it up, there was foreign handwriting I didn't know of. It surely wasn't Logan's. It was too girly. Too artsy. Too unique.

The calligraphy said Is that really the only interests you share? The only thing you have in common is each other.

I folded back up the note and stuck it back in my pocket. Instead I payed attention to the lesson for the first time in a while.

The bell rang and I got up to get my stuff. I slung my bag over my shoulder and made it for the door. I stopped to let Phoenix go in front of me when she gave me a certain look.

That look told me she wrote the note. The look told me she was laughing at us inside. That look made me feel horrid.

And that was the last time Logan and I passed playful love notes back and forth.