[ my first ever, half-hearted attempt at writing romance ]

   Her eyes darted over the writing twice, once quickly, and the second time more slowly, as if she was carefully analyzing the letters.

   "Let me guess — you wrote this one?" She raised her head, catching his eyes for a fleeting second before her gaze seemed to change focus to his face.

   "You can recognize my handwriting, now?" he asked, running a hand through his hair before dropping his elbow to rest his forearm on his desk.

   "Anybody can," she replied, rising to her feet. "The way you curve your g's-" She pantomimed writing in the air with a finger, defining a small circle and then making a sharp, wide curve.

   He laughed, and she half-smiled in response, connecting her gaze with his again for a split second. She dropped the card on her desk, and then turned and walked away.

   His eyes lingered on her until he tore them away, and eventually, they wandered to the card that lay open on the desk. He looked at the words without really reading them, without really processing them, until they abruptly came into focus.

   You're invited to the end-of-the-year party for QSA! To be held next week on Friday at 4pm in the school library. There'll be food from everybody, so make sure to bring some to share! Contact our librarian for more details.

   There was nothing at all remarkable about the words. There'd been a template, and he'd been one of the volunteers that copied the message down. He hadn't even known it was for her until he'd been asked to deliver it.

   But what struck him about it was that there were no g's present.

   Not a single one.