Dear Veronica,

[continuation of the last letter]

He was looking at Veronica and she was looking right back at him. I suddenly felt like I was third-wheeling. Wtf?

"Veronica..." He stammered, not even acknowledging my presence. "You're here?"

She was still crouching on the ground, mindlessly stroking Tony's back. She let out a shaky laugh."Yes, I'm here."

He held his hand out for her to catch and get on her feet, leaving me to wonder when the bloody hell did Andrew get so romantic, strike that, confident (as in, not running away at the sight of them) with girls? She held out, but their hands never met.

Why? Because of the #1 sadist in the world. Me. The one and only with horrible, ridiculous, senseless timing.

They just looked at each other, lost in each other's eyes or some romantic crap writers know so well describing. They seemed to have forgotten that I was still existent. We didn't have all day! Was Andrew gonna pull Veronica onto her feet or not?

I coughed and said, "Andrew, you're late!"

"Shut up." He snapped at me, looking at me for the first time since he'd arrived. Woah.

"I guess I'll go..." Veronica interrupted, quickly arranging herself and getting up. Andrew moved back, making way for her unusually quiet dog. Either it was sleepy, or in shock, like me.

"Yeah, okay," I said.

"Already?" Andrew said at the same time.

We both, strike that, we three looked at him. Yes, including Tony. A bright red flashed in Veronica's face. "Um, yeah... I really, really need to go." She excused.

"Oh, okay." Andrew muttered, clearly upset about it.

"Is that Tony?" He continued. She looked as confused as me. I mean, what the hell was going on? She gave a small smile, "Yeah. Yeah, this is Tony."

She looked at me, smirking. "Bye."

"Bye." It'll probably take a lifetime to get over this incident.

She turned towards Andrew. "Bye," She said with a softer, dragging edge in her voice like she was going reluctantly and not by her will. I've never seen her act like this.

Probably cause I'm too busy looking at Laura, but that's besides the point.

She walked away quickly, a weird skip in her walk. Unusual.

Andrew, flushed, sat down beside me, head in hands.

"What happened?"

He shook his head after I asked him the second time. I was getting impatient. Something was clearly odd. And I needed to know.

Now.

"Andrew."

"What?!" he screamed, getting up.

"What is your problem?"

"Andrew, what happened no- "

"Even the damn dog could understand, but not you!" he screamed, clearly exasperated and disappointed in me. "Even the dog is better than you." He said, and went away in frustration.

Later that night, I thought of calling him and asking if he was alright, but I decided not to push the matter further. Whatever it was, I figured out that he wasn't in a mood to talk, and I don't have a clue what effected it - whether it was something that happened before Veronica came or after.

The only thing I couldn't get out of my head was the unusual tint of pink on Andrew's cheeks earlier in the park.