"Poppy?"

I stopped chewing my sandwich and stilled.

"Hey, Poppy," Vera then said, sliding into the chair across from me at my empty lunch table on a Friday.

"How about after practice today you come with me to the mall?"

I shook my head, already preparing to make up an excuse as to why I couldn't go.

"It'll be just us," she said quietly, patting her petite hand on mine. "I promise."

I considered her invite, staring at her pretty complexion and eager expression. It wouldn't hurt to go shopping, except I didn't have any money with me.

I wrote on my notepad:

I don't have any money with me.

"I'll pay."

I already began to write, but Vera took my pen out of my hand. "I want to." She said.

I grabbed the pen back and quickly wrote on the notepad again.

Let me ask my dad first.

"Okay."

I texted him and asked for his permission while Vera waited patiently, looking just a little too excited. I didn't want to be responsible for her happiness. What if she didn't like my company? Besides, I don't even remember the last time I've gone shopping.

He replied with a short and simple "yes."

It was obvious he didn't give me a certain time to be home because he knew I wouldn't be home late. No rules applied to me because I didn't do anything. His judgement is fogged because he's realizing that for once in my life I'm going out somewhere with a friend.

I wanted to lie to Vera and say no. I really didn't want to go, but who in the right mind would pass up the opportunity to shop? Well, besides me, of course.

Reluctantly, I scribbled a quick "okay" and she squealed with delight, excitement bubbling in her lively blue eyes. When she left the table, I sighed and focused back on my uneaten sandwich, my appetite already nonexistent. I grabbed my stuff, dumped my sandwich in the garbage and headed to the indoor track where I could sit and wait for practice to start.

Most of the seniors drove to the nearest diner to get lunch around this time. As seniors, we had the privilege to leave the building after our last period of class. Whoever had school sports had to come back. Since I didn't have my own car, I was stuck here.

I didn't exactly like that I couldn't go anywhere else, but I made the most of it by taking a nap in the bleachers of the indoor track where nobody could see me. At least, I thought nobody could see, but hell was I wrong.

"Are you alright?"

It was Mr. Lee. Again. I wanted to mutter a thousand curse words under my breath and slam my head into the wall, but I just opened my eyes looked up at him. My backpack was under my head as a pillow, while my sleeves were pulled all the way out so my hands could rest on the inside of my shirt, pressed against my belly. My cheeks instantly flushed with the realization that I looked disgustingly awkward.

I sat up and shoved my hands back out, grabbing my notepad along the way.

I wrote:

I was just taking a nap.

He briefly glanced at it, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"You know," he said, taking a seat on the bleachers aside me. "I don't have any students in my classroom during seventh or eighth period. You're welcome to rest in there, if you prefer. It would probably beat hurting your back on these uncomfortable bleachers."

I wrote while my hands were shaking. I hope he didn't notice.

That would be really nice, thank you.

He smiled and patted my leg casually, but the electric buzz that lingered where his fingers touched was definitely no casualty, according to my hormonal body that had reacted almost instantly.

I watched him carefully step down the bleachers, his fingers pushing through his mass of brown curls atop his head.

I breathed in his lingering scent and laid back down on my backpack, my eyes rotating to different parts of the ceiling that was connected with fans and air-conditioning vents.

Cross country practice soon arrived. I was standing in the locker room mirror as Vera stood beside me, brushing her thick hair into a pony tail while I brushed my own hair that looked like a bird's nest in comparison to hers.

We stood in silence as we each worked at our own hair, other cross country girls coming and going behind us to glance in the mirror.

Eventually we all walked outside, myself trailing behind the rest of the girls as I usually did.

The more we walked, the more anticipation thumped painfully in my heart. By now I should be used to seeing Mr. Lee, but it seems that every day I manage to somehow embarrass myself in front of him. And not only that, but every time I saw him my breath got caught in my throat and that only added to now ridiculous I felt.

When both the girls and boys arrived in a group, Mr. Lee appeared with Mr. Falliner, both of them chattering to each other. The group of cross country members quieted down.

"Today we'll be running only half a mile, since some of you may be out of shape. I don't want to risk asthma attacks until we all get the hang of distance running. For now, go jog once around the track for a warm up." He then dismissed the students and we all began jogging, Vera falling in step next to me.

"He's looking at you," she breathed, her voice wavering as we both continued to run.

I shook my head, as if dismissing the conversation but she smiled knowingly and took off in front of me to catch up with somebody else.

I kept myself at a steady pace as I continued to make my way around the track, my panting getting drowned out by everyone else's breathing. I refused to look at Mr. Lee, but I could feel his eyes on me as I finished jogging. I caught up with the rest of the students and we all waited for further directions, our panting becoming the only sound.

For the rest of practice, everything went fairly well. We did different drills that consisted of different and quick stretches, as well as another relay race that I decided to sit out on. Mr. Lee didn't pay attention to me. Maybe he wasn't looking at me. Of course he wasn't looking at me. Why would he?

When practice ended, we all hurried into the locker rooms to shower and change, eager for the Friday night to begin. I quickly showered and waited for Vera, my anxiety taking its' toll as it usually did. Every time I thought about how awkward it would be at the mall with Vera, I would get a rush of discomfort.

"You ready?" Vera asked cheerfully, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and grabbing my hand. I let her guide me out into the parking lot, the breeze blasting against my wet hair and sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have an idea," she said, throwing her backpack and my own into the backseat of her black convertible, it's color glimmering against the sun. I slid into the passenger seat, inhaling the scent of leather.

Is this a new car? I wrote on my notepad.

"Yep," she sighed in admiration. "Isn't she a beauty?"

I nodded in approval and she started the car. She pulled out and began driving, my head falling against the warm window as the radio blasted a pop song, Vera casually singing along and thumping her fingers against the wheel.

When we arrived at the mall ten minutes later, all I could hear was the sound of muffled music and people happily talking. My nerves thankfully calmed down.

We strolled around for a few minutes until Vera grabbed my hand again, which seemed to be a habit of hers, and pulled me forward.

Where are you taking me? I wrote and shoved my notepad in her face, giggling uncontrollably. She swatted my notepad away and shushed me, continuing to pull me.

We arrived at a hair salon. Tiny pictures formed a square around the entrance, all pictures of young women with healthy-looking hair styled so beautifully that you'd only see it in movies. Vera clasped her hands together and squealed with excitement.

"You're getting a makeover," she said cheerfully, grabbing my hand for the millionth time and pulling me in with her, the blue purple and pink florescent lights of the shop glowing and illuminating our faces. My heart thumped with not fear, but excitement as I held onto Vera's hand and let her take control.