He enters the room with his hands in his pockets, his eyes on mine. Right on mine. He knows exactly where I sit and has every intention of getting as close to me as possible. Mr. Mitchell notices his early arrival, watching as he takes the desk behind mine.
The rest of the students shuffle in, and our teacher turns to write something on the whiteboard. That's when Alex drops a folded paper on my desk. A note. A note with another game of tic-tac-toe probably. The bell still hasn't rung, so I unfold it quickly.
did you hear? we broke up.
He's started a game in the middle of the paper, his signature X in the top left square. I place my O in the space next to it, not bothering with strategy this round. I want to respond to his message instead.
I heard. I'm so sad for us.