I slowly scanned the cluster of students, trying to block out the boisterous chatter that bounced around the hall walls as I carefully thought. Surely one of them must be my so-called admirer, right?
I hoped that perhaps they would give myself away by watching me, but as I slowly worked my way mentally through the crowd, no one seemed to be paying me much attention, like usual. My eyes lingered for a moment on Kaylen, before reluctantly moving on. No, it couldn't be him, as much as a small part of me wished it was. He had a girlfriend, and besides, though he was clever, he was much more math orientated than bookish.

It must be someone who knows me, or is at least around me enough to see which books I read - for all the hints so far had been ones from my favourite books, ones that I had read multiple times at school across the years as I sat alone. Someone who... I halted as my eyes alighted on her. Kara. She knows, she knew me better than anyone else. Plus, a couple of the books were ones we both loved when we were younger. Could it be her? Not as genuine admiration of course, but as a trick? It... could be. She knew what a hopeless romantic I am, I used to be. Knew that I was never one to back down from a mystery. My heart tightened for a moment as I considered it. A joke. Could it be...?

My thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the ever over-enthusiastic Miss Mulberry, five minutes late per usual.
"Alrighty everyone! Quiet coyote! Please form two lines and calmly enter the classroom!"

Quiet coyote? Two lines? Seriously?
Despite having been our teacher for a year and a bit now, she still somehow hadn't been able to fully grasp that we weren't in primary school anymore. Per the usual, for no one took it seriously after figuring out after the first couple of times that she never enforced it too much, the result was a skinny, skewed rectangle and people talking instead of shouting.

As everyone filed into our seats, the young teacher flounced over to the whiteboard, her ponytail bouncing in the same energetic fashion as the rest of her.

"Today we are going to be analysing poems about..." She flipped the board around dramatically, even though everyone knew what was coming, "Love!" She squeaked as the board came to a stop to show the word LOVE written in bright pink marker in curly font with little hearts all around it (it must have taken her at least ten minutes of her precious class prep time to do).

No surprise there.

As expected, the response was a mixed one, the class exploding in sounds of
"Ew",  from myself and fellow haters of the topic of love and/or valentine's day,
"Yay!" Said by Michelle and her gang of suck ups, and
"Oooh, looove." Mockingly moaned by Jonathan and his cronies.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I never had been a bit fan of Miss Mulberry. She strikes me as the kind of person who peaked in high school, and was trying desperately to hold on to her "Miss Popular" title by trying to be the "cool" teacher and fit in with her students whilst joking and laughing with Michelle, Viola, and Allison. In her eyes, their little clique could do no wrong. She adored them. Unlike Mrs Collins who saw right through them, all the more reason why she was my favourite teacher and Miss Mulberry decidedly wasn't.

"Now I want you all," she flicked her eyes in my direction, "to work in groups and chose one of the poems on the board."

I could see now that in tiny letters below the Giant, dreaded, four-lettered word.

She almost always forced group work. One day she forced me too hard. I may or may not have had a mental breakdown and said some choice words to her face. The only day I went to the principals office. Thankfully Mrs Collins stepped in on my behalf and explained my 'situation' to that stupid teacher. Sometimes if we absolutely have to do pair work (for assessments), then I'd work with Kaylen or else whoever got stuck with me. Kaylen was okay. We didn't talk much outside of work and that was fine with me. Plus, at least he actually did his part, unlike most group projects where I end up having to do all the work. The worst was when I got stuck with some random leech who couldn't be bothered to do all the work. I learnt just to treat those types of tasks as single tasks, I'd given up trying to get them to do their bit. Sometimes if I was lucky I'd end up with Sarah, but more often than not she'd be snatched up by someone else. Not that she ever seeked me out for group work. No one did. I think the only reason Kaylen put up with me was cause he knew I'd do my bit, unlike the other guys would would then just be completely parasites and get him to do most of the work whilst they goofed off with their friends.

He raised an eyebrow at me and I realised he was waiting for me to respond to something he said. Whilst I had been absent-mindedly looking at him the whole time. I tried, and failed, to act casual despite my probably pink face. Pull yourself together, Emily!
"Sorry, I missed that?"

"Oh sorry. I asked if you were alright with doing the second poem? You do the last four paragraphs and I do the first four, Like usual?"

I shrugged, "works for me."

With a mutual nod, we both turned to our task. Even though Miss Mulberrg was a pathetic excuse of a teacher, who had no control over her class, I still did my work. Unlike majority of the class who just stuffed around and asked her about her best achievements and memories from her high school days to distract her and get her to talk off topic for ages so they didn't have to do work. Of course Michelle and her gang just whispered giggled as they exchanged notes, their heads occasionally swivelling up and down like meerkats and they marked down whichever boy they were gossiping about.

Having finished my short analysis of my part of the poem and popping it into the shared cloud doc for Kaylen to see, I surveiled the room with a small sigh. No watching eyes. No warm presence. Just noisy people not even bothering to pretend that they were working whilst Miss Mulberry was standing near Michelle and the gorillas group, laughing shrilly at something Johnathan said. Ugh.

"You all good?" Kaylen's voice startled me.
"Huh? Oh yeah I'm alright. Just thinking. Thanks."
He looked at me curiously before turning back to his laptop, which I could see had the beginnings of tonight's math homework, "okay."

With nothing else to do, like usual finishing my classwork with still twenty or so minutes to spare, I decided to mull over the next hint. Usually during this time I would read whatever book I was burying myself in, but this was much better. I carefully slipped the pieces of paper out of my pocket. Rummaging through my pencil case, I at last found some sticky tape, and tenderly joined the two pieces of paper together.

Hint 5: The first thing Will Treaty climbs to escape Horace Altman.
Reason 5: Your perseverance.

Once I had the time to actually breathe and look at the hint properly, it took me but a moment to figure it out. Will Treaty and Horace Altman were characters in one of my favourite book series of all time: The Ranger's Apprentice by John Flanagan. Near the start of the first book, Will climbs a tree to escape Horace. So surely the hint was leading to a tree, but which one? There were multiple around the school. But most of them grew in clusters, except... aha! It had to be the large tree in the middle of the old dirt courtyard. That area wasn't used as much since the new yard had been built, but I still often went there when I wanted some peace and quiet. Could it be the final destination of the hints? I pondered, feeling both excited and anxious anticipation simmering inside.

I ran my finger over the edge of the smooth and soft-to-touch paper, smiling softly to myself as I re-read the fifth reason.

Reason 5: Your persev-

"Whatcha got there?" A fake, sweet voice asked a moment before I registered the presence standing behind and looking over my shoulder.

I twitched and involuntarily, but not so subtly, covered the note with my hand.

"Oh. Um... it's just a note," I replied, trying - but desperately failing - to sound nonchalant.

Kara’s eyes became as big as saucers as she exclaimed, "you- a note?” Then, realising what she had said, she faintly added, “Oh... I mean... how lovely!” in a fake tone that suggested that she did not really think it so lovely at all.

As I stared at her seemingly surprised face, heart beating fast, my suspicions of her playing a trick on me faded a little. But, then again, she had always been a good actress, and I wouldn’t put it past her to be cruel enough to do this little charade to throw me off the scent.

After a moment more of silence as she lingered, she gave a faint smile before murmuring something and quickly scurrying away to her group of friends.

In a few seconds I heard her rapidly whispered, and my sharp ears overheard snippets of,
"What?"
"Her?"
"Are you sure?"
"No way!"

And I could almost fancy that I sensed their scornful eyes glancing my way. Disbelief. Shock. Disgust.

It hurt.

I sat still for a moment, not sure what to do. Then, shoving the piece of paper into my pocket and shutting down my laptop, I got a hall pass.

I made a bee-line for the toilets, and had barely locked the door behind me and sat down before the tears came.

I looked long and hard at the note, the note which had given me so much home. The note I had carefully repaired. The note that had made me smile. Before crumpling it up in my hand. 

Who was I fooling? Why would anyone truly like me?

The whole thing was probably just some stupid prank to get my hopes up before dashing them all over again.

Oh why was I ever foolish enough even for a second to believe that someone might actually like me?

How had I been so stupid to let my imagination overtake me? To let myself believe that I felt kind eyes watching when in reality the only eyes watching me were ones filled with disgust?

I sat there for a few minutes, feeling any hope I had swirling away like water down a drain.
It's a lie. It's all lies. It's just a prank. No one truly likes you.
I stood, tightened my fist around the note, and opened the toilet, holding the wretched piece of paper above the water.
But yet, try as I might. Hurt as I felt, I couldn't let go.
How was it that such a stupid piece of paper, probably inked with lies, had come to mean so much to me in such a short amount of time?

At last I admitted defeat, gently uncrumpling the paper and smoothly it out before tucking it away again. Then I did my business (what? Nature calls - I'm already here so I may as well not waste a hall pass), wiped away my tears, washed my hands and rinsed and dried my blotchy face, before taking a deep breath and heading back to the English class.

As I sat down and opened up my laptop again, with no one taking note of my reappearance but Kaylen and Miss Mulberry, I bit my tongue to stop from gasping, or yelling, or making whatever noise was suitable for what lay on my keyboard.
I quickly whipped my head around, hoping to catch the culprit who had left it, but with no luck.
It was a piece of paper with blue lines on it, obviously torn out from someone's exercise book. Upon it the scribbled words, messy in comparison the the neatness of the other notes, “Ignore them. They are just like Lydia and Mrs Bennet in P&P.”

I silently laughed, knowing that they were referring to one of my favourites: Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen. Mrs Bennet was a vain and silly character. Lydia, a foolish girl, was much the same. I personally related most to Mary Bennet, though I wish I could say I was more like Elizabeth Bennet.
In any case, I gave myself a small shake. Still unable to fully assail my doubts though, I couldn't help but give a small glance to Kara, but she was busy acting all enraptured, looking with big eyes and mock seriousness as she listened to something Miss Mulberry was saying to them.
Surely she wouldn't have, right?

I turned to Kaylen, holding the peice of paper but angling it so he couldn't see what was written. "Who put this in my laptop?"

He acted surprised, but there was a split second of something before he said, "oh. Is that a note? Sorry, I didn't see."

I crossed my arms in disbelief,
"To think I'd live to see the day where you, Kaylen Brook, tell a lie. You know who it was, I can tell. Don't give me anymore of that nonsense about you not seeing them!"

That made him sit up and look genuinely surprised, for I'd never said so much nor in such an indignant tone to him before.

"Oh. Well..." he wavered for a moment before lifting his chin. "Sorry, I can't split. They'll reveal themselves when the time is right."

"What!" I whisper yelled. "But you know who it is. You know! Just tell me!"

He looked resolute. "Sorry, but I shan't. I promised."

I glowered at him. Then, after a moment of looking at each other - what felt to be the most eye contact I'd ever held in my life (I've always hated it), feeling as tense as a staring contest except we were blinking - my glare having no effect on him, I deflated, turning away and instead turning my attention to the note again.

I smiled softly at note, feeling like it was a thread of an inside joke between me and the one who had written the words. I mean, surely. Surely it couldn't be a trick... right?