Eleven

XOXO, Quinn Ramirez

Quinn's POV

Friday morning, I woke up sleepy. Vanessa's overly cheerful face greeted me as I entered the kitchen for breakfast; she seemed to have recovered significantly from her temper tantrum at dinner with John and my mother.

"Happy Friday!" she exclaimed, handing me a blueberry muffin. I wondered if it was poisoned. Still, it looked too good to pass up, and I took a tentative bite without thanking her before immediately devouring the entire thing.

"You eat like a pig," she sniffed disdainfully before heading back upstairs to get ready for school. The friendliness certainly hadn't lasted long. I set my plate and fork in the sink, greeting Mom as she came into the kitchen yawning, before hopping up the stairs two at a time to brush my teeth.

Despite Vanessa's pleas to ride in the Audi with her and her friends on her way to school (why she wanted me in that car with her, I had no idea), I insisted on riding my bike. Even though it was still early, it was extremely sunny outside, and the thought of my date with Andrew Summers being only one day away made me way too happy to want to be stuck in that dreary car.

My calves were burning and I was sweating by the time I arrived, but due to the fact that Kenzie was running late to pick up Vanessa, I still beat my stepsister to school. After leaning my bike against the side of the building and looping my helmet around one of the handlebars, I darted cheerfully up the steps and towards my locker. There was a suspicious-looking pink Post-It note fluttering on the door, visible the second I turned the corner.

Quinn, go to the rooftop, now. You won't be sorry.

I crumpled up the Post-It note in one hand and tossed in the trash can in a teacher's classroom before dumping my backpack on the floor and heading towards the staircase, fixing my hair as I walked. The rooftop was usually reserved for biology students or garden club members only, as it hosted a wide variety of plant specimens, but I figured if the note told me to go I'd have some way of sneaking in.

Once I'd climbed up to the third floor and then taken the black iron wrought staircase to the rooftop, I was greeted by the overwhelming sweet smell of plants. I immediately sneezed from the pollen, causing a deep voice from the balcony to ask, "Who's there?"

I hopped up the last two steps and saw Andrew Summers sitting on the balcony overlooking the school's front drive, his homework spread out in front of him. Hesitation made me almost turn around and disappear back to my locker, but climbing all those stairs had put me out of breath and I desperately needed to sit down for a minute.

"Hey," I said, crossing the plant-filled rooftop and coming to a stop in front of him. "Sorry, I didn't know you were here."

This was not a lie. The Post-It note hadn't told me who was on the balcony, just that I needed to go there immediately—even though I had suspected who was there.

"It's cool." He patted the chair beside him and I gratefully sat down, wishing there was water I could guzzle down.

He turned back to his homework and jotted down an answer to a math problem before I said, "I'm really sorry about the whole note thing. I honestly had no idea."

When he glanced up at me, he was smiling, and his blue eyes were bright. "Don't worry about it. I'm actually glad that happened."

"Why?" I asked. I had left the note in my backpack the previous night and hadn't dared taken it out to reread it as I'd done my homework; just the thought of pulling it out had brought back both unwanted memories of my humiliation and a redness to my cheeks.

"Well, it sort of encouraged me to write something of my own." He reached into his backpack and pulled out a thin white envelope, identical to the one I'd been given the day before. "Whoever thought of it had a good idea."

Hands shaking, I took the envelope and went to rip it open, but his warm hand came down on my wrist. "Don't open it until you're alone," he said.

His hand hadn't left my arm, and I nodded before stuttering, "Okay. Thanks."

He drew his hand away too soon and picked up his pencil again. "No problem, Ramirez."

Still unsteady, I gently set the envelope down on the table in front of me. "I can't believe you wrote me a love letter," I said, laughing.

He rolled his eyes lightly, but they were sparkling. "I'm not naturally romantic, Quinn. Don't make fun of me for making an effort."

I wanted to tell him then exactly how romantic I found him, but decided that would scare him away, so I just smiled back and then glanced down at his homework. "How's the math going?" I asked.

"Just great," he replied dryly. "Calculus is just the best thing ever."

"I bet," I replied. Not like I would know.

~*~*~

I didn't get a chance to escape from the general chaos of school until right before lunch, after I'd sat through a miserable English class with Vanessa and Mrs. Davis, who wouldn't stop lecturing us on subject-verb agreement. To her credit, she and Shane hadn't been flirting obnoxiously today—in fact, they both seemed like they were focusing so hard on ignoring each other that they coming across as hostile. That explained why Vanessa was acting more sour than usual lately, and it probably explained her temper tantrum, too.

After Mrs. Davis had finally let us go at eleven fifteen on the dot, I slipped past the crowd of people hurrying to exit the classroom and darted down the hallway to reach the bathroom as quickly as possible. Once I'd locked myself in the largest stall and pulled the note out of my backpack, I leaned against the wall to read.

Hey Quinn :)

I'm being a copycat and stealing my impersonator's idea. I'm not a romantic person but I think you deserve a really nice letter, so I'm going to try and explain everything I've been too afraid to tell you over the last six months or so.

Six months? Andrew Summers had spent the entire summer pining over me?

I think the moment I started liking you was when we were at that all-school assembly, and they tried to get us all to make jokes of ourselves by competing against each other on stage in front of the whole school. You volunteered immediately, of course, and so did I. At the time, I thought you were cute, but I wasn't really interested.

They had us doing the limbo, tug of war, and musical chairs. Do you remember that? It was down to us two and that senior, Isabella, by the time we got to musical chairs. We were blindfolded and you were so determined to win the game that you sat down on top of me and then, once you realized there was someone there, actually shoved me out of my chair. When we pulled off our blindfolds at the end at you saw you'd pushed me onto the ground, you turned so red I thought you'd pass out.

You hurried to apologize but what I don't think you ever knew is that I thought it was adorable. You were so competitive, and even though you lost to Isabella, the fact you kicked me out of the game and weren't even sorry about it until you knew who I was made me smile. Though I always did wonder—why me? Why did you care that it had been me you'd shoved out of that chair? Why was I so special?

That was the last week of school. I started noticing you in the hallways, how you were always smiling and being sweet to people. I don't think I ever saw you frowning. Your energy was so contagious, and even though we didn't even talk to each other that week, seeing you being happy made me happier, too.

I still don't know why, Quinn. Why me? How did I get so lucky?

Maybe someday I'll know. I hope Saturday goes well, though, and I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to ask you out properly without using running as an excuse.

-Andrew Summers

I stared at that letter for a really long time, shaking so much as I held it that the paper crinkled. Here it was, in plain, beautiful words, exactly what I'd been wanting for him to tell me for so long. It was destiny.

Following recent tradition, I shoved the letter in Julia's face the second I sat down at our usual lunch table. She scanned it, looking more shocked than I'd ever seen her in my life. Once she'd finished rereading it for the second time, she met my eye. "Quinn Ramirez," she said, barely breathing. "I cannot believe this."

"Me neither." My heartbeat was still way too fast. "He wrote me a letter!"

Julia handed me back the letter and I delicately put it back in its envelope to make sure we didn't spill anything on it. "It must be kismet, Quinn."

"Kismet?" I asked, wrinkling my nose and taking a sip of my lemonade.

Julia nodded ecstatically, her blonde ponytail bouncing. "It means destiny or fate."

"Oh." I grinned and took another drink of lemonade. The sugar melted in my mouth and then slid down my throat, cool and delicious. "Kismet it is, then!"

I ate quickly and then excused myself from the table in order to hurry to find a pen and write a reply to Andrew Summers.

About ten minutes later, I'd braved the library, which I was pretty sure I'd never set foot in throughout my time at Providence Prep, and was seated at one of the one-person desks in the far side of the room. I had a blank sheet of computer paper and a pen in front of me, and I had no idea what to write.

Andrew, I began, my fingers shaking as I wrote. My W was scraggly and had a weird little loop on one end. I thought about how sweet and frank his letter to me had been, and knew I owed it to him to be just as honest.

You told me the first time you started to like me, so I guess I should tell you the first time I knew I liked you. It was the first day of freshman year, when I was awkward and had no idea what I was doing in the high school. I didn't know where my English classroom was, and even though I saw you standing in the hallway I was too afraid to go up to someone as cute as you and ask for directions. You saw me wandering around aimlessly, though, and you were the one to approach me and ask if I needed anything.

I had trouble forming complete sentences talking to you. If I'm being completely honest, I still do. I had no idea that you liked me and so I spent my freshman year too afraid to get to know you. I should have tried more.

Your letter to me was really sweet, and it made me smile. Don't worry about using running as an excuse; at least you had the guts to ask me out at all :) Plus you wrote a letter, which is actually the cutest/sweetest thing ever.

I'm looking forward to Saturday, too (which I guess is actually tomorrow). I hope you go easy on me, though, because I'm not as fast as you think.

xoxo,

Quinn Ramirez

My hands were still shaking as I signed my name. I couldn't believe I'd just written all of this on paper. My stomach flipped as I quickly edited it, then folded it before I could second-guess myself.

I had just written a love letter to Andrew Summers. Taking deep breaths, I went up to the librarian.

"Hi," I chirped, still unsteady. "Do you have an envelope I can borrow?"

"I don't think you'll be giving it back, so therefore you wouldn't be borrowing it," replied the librarian—Mr. Reese. Even though I'd never officially met him, I still recognized him from the hallways and an all-school assembly where he'd made an announcement about an evidently fascinating new biography section that had been added to the library.

Clearing my throat, I replied, "Yes, well then. Can I have an envelope?"

Mr. Reese reached under his desk and pulled an envelope out from a drawer. It looked just like the ones Andrew and his impersonator had used—I wondered if they'd gone to Mr. Reese, too. "Here you go," he said. "Have a good day."

I thanked him and then stuffed my letter into its envelope before carefully sealing it. After writing Andrew's name on the front, I hurried up to his locker to drop it inside.

He was standing in front of his locker talking to Joshua, so I had to nonchalantly walk past while hiding my letter in order to deliver it later. Andrew smiled and tipped his head up at me as I passed, and I grinned back. Joshua had both eyebrows raised amusedly as he watched us.

"Young love," I heard him saying to Andrew as I turned the corner and reached my own locker. There were no pink Post-It notes adhered to the metal for me to follow, so I slammed the door shut again and then slid down to sit on the floor.

"Hey, Quinn." Elisabeth appeared next to me suddenly, her bright eyes studying me. She sat down cross-legged next to me on the carpet and began inspecting her nails.

"Hi Elisabeth." I had two guesses: she was either here to ask me for chemistry help or to inquire about Cody.

My second guess proved to be accurate as Elisabeth began twirling her hair around her finger and commented casually, "Where's Cody?"

"Not here."

"Obviously," Elisabeth giggled. I became overly conscious of the envelope in my hand and reached over to slide it discreetly into my backpack and out of her sight. "Why isn't he with you? You guys are always together."

I bit down hard on my lip—I wanted to tell her snappily that Andrew and I were a couple, not Cody and I, but decided I'd better wait until after Saturday to make the formal announcement. "We are not," I said. "We're just friends."

"Are you?" Now Elisabeth looked like a predator searching for meat—or, in this case, gossip. "I thought you were dating."

"We're not." I stood abruptly, figuring Andrew had left his locker by now and I'd be safe to drop off his letter. "I've got to go now; see you later."

I left her sitting by my locker with lots to think about as I jogged down the hallway and turned the corner. Sure enough, Andrew and Joshua were no longer near his locker, and I scurried up to it before checking to make sure they were out of sight.

Carefully, I opened his locker and set his letter down on top of his history textbook. His locker was extremely clean for a guy's, and I made sure the letter wasn't crooked before I shut the door gently behind me and then scurried away.

A part of me wanted to run back and yank the door open before grabbing the letter and burning it, but I knew I couldn't. After all, he'd told me plainly how he felt for me. This was for the best, wasn't it?

A/N: Any thoughts on Andrew Summers, guys?

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