43.
chapter forty-three:
they think
my life is
spicy, because
someone's stalking me.

I frowned with the newly discovered knowledge that the letter had reached the right person. My name was written in cute little handwriting, just succeeding the term of endearment, and followed by yet another carefully constructed paragraph.

Dear Ash, 
Raven is a pretty terrible nickname. 
I just hope you never find me, 
and laugh in my face for that, oof.

Anyways, I figured your 
true name is better, 
after all, the real you is the 
greatest thing to happen to me.

Love, 
Butterhead

As a person who loved writing poetry for pastimes, I knew this was no simple letter; it was a terrible, if I daresay, attempt at being a poet. There were no metaphors, or similes, or even a rhyme scheme. It was just plain words strewn together to make the reader chuckle at how cheesy it sounded.

If you'd ask me, I could only strike out certain words and change it for the better to make it look like a decent scrap of poetry.

Besides not having a clue as to who this Butterhead was, my friends ganged up on me, trying to figure out the mystery; I was getting a genuine stress headache.

"Butterhead? Seems like someone you know, for her to tell you you're the greatest thing to happen to her!" May cooed, clutching her hands together as if in prayer.

I snorted. "Why, she doesn't have any idea who the real me is," I said dismissively. "I daresay even you guys don't."

Misty threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Your life is so spicy, Ash. I wish I had such an adventurous life!"

"Care to switch?"

"No, thanks. I don't think I need more problems than what I have already."

"Thanks."

"You know she's the biggest troll there ever is when she says you are the greatest thing to happen to her, Ashy-boy!" Gary teased, throwing the letter another jealous glance. "I can't wait to read today's letter! I'm sure it'll be spicier than yesterday's 'the real you' episode."

Gary's words came true when I opened the third letter from Butterhead that evening in the park.

Dear Ash, 
I wish you would spend five hours 
texting me on Discord, 
talking about how you hate 
math and jotting down 
history dates.

To be honest, 
I am willing to do the last one 
if it means I get a Discord date 
with you.

Love, 
Butterhead

"Did you hear her? She's asking you on a Discord date!" May sneered. "By the way, what is a Discord? I don't think she'd want her date with her Raven to end up in a fight?"

"May, hun," Drew started, and I was thankful to not have to explain what it was to the girl. "Discord, not as in not harmonious, but as in a social media app."

A foolish blush crossed her face. "Oh!"

"Wait," I interjected when I spotted Drew leaning toward the girl for a kiss. They gave me a weary look, but hey! I didn't wish to be a third wheel. "How in the world does she know I have Discord when May herself doesn't know the existence of the app?"

"That question ain't stopping us!"

And I left the lovebirds behind in the park.

Dear Ash, 
How do you like me drawing 
all your favorite mons from 
the anime, Pokémon? 
If they would make you 
smile, I would draw 
until the world 
no longer has any 
trees to cut and 
books to make.

Love, 
Butterhead

"This girl has quite the intel," Misty mused the next night when I showed them the recent letter from my 'secret admirer,' as Gary claimed Butterhead to be. "You know you've got to give it to her when she knows you have a secret Discord account and that you adore Pokémon with all your heart."

I flushed, feeling no better. "I feel like she's stalking me, and she's no good at poetry!"

Gary snorted into his veg soup. "I think Karma's a creep and is now striking you in the face."

"What?! I've never stalked anyone!"

"Says you, who stalks his best friend, admits feelings, and then ignores her."

A surge of embarrassment rushed through me, and I hurried to kick Gary's shin. I emphasized each word as he yelped out in pain. "I. Am. Not. A. Stalker!"

The Butterhead fiasco only managed to make things worse for me. On top of my disastrous failures in every social hour, the pained crossing of paths with Serena, and the upcoming soccer tryouts, Butterhead grabbed the icing on the cake to become my number one headache.

How she got to know my locker number was beyond me, and the fact that I couldn't lock it because I had lost the damned key only agitated me all the more.

My friends weren't helping.

May and Misty found the entire ordeal hilarious enough to post a status raising awareness of 'a detached head seeking butter' on their Instagram accounts, while Gary and Drew clearly seemed out of words at the harsh truth that I managed to make a girl trip in love. Crushing or stalking, I had the faintest idea.

The only person who had been sympathetic enough to me was Dawn, but she was in the other class. The girl made sure to keep others rooted in their mockings, even if I doubted she herself didn't have a nice, good laugh alone in her dormitory after reading one of the cringe letters.

Despite the problems Butterhead posed, I had to admit, it was hilarious to read her thoughts and interpret how she looked in real life.

And when Misty jokingly asked me to describe the hairstyle of the girl I was crushing on, I straight up supplied her with Serena's hairdo, rather than ponder about Butterhead's. "Short hair, bob cut, I suppose."

They had a good laugh, and I found myself joining in. Rather than bringing sweet smiles, I realized Butterhead was making a fool out of herself to make us laugh.

It was a comforting thought, nevertheless.