The Note in Her Locker

Jonah and Piper have been best friends since sixth grade, but lately something has felt different. Jonah first noticed it in October, when Piper laughed at something he said. He suddenly couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

He hasn't told anyone, not even his older brother, because saying it out loud would make it real. And if it's real, he might ruin the one friendship that has mattered most to him for years.

Everything gets harder in March, when Piper mentions that her family is moving to another state this summer. She says it quickly, almost like she's trying to get the sentence over with.

"That's, like, three months away," Jonah says, trying to sound calm.

"I know," Piper says. "I keep forgetting it's actually happening."

That night, Jonah can't stop thinking about all the things he has never said to her. If he says nothing, she'll leave without ever knowing how he feels. He isn't sure he can live with that kind of regret. But if he tells her and she doesn't feel the same way, it could get awkward fast.

He goes back and forth for almost a week. He writes and rewrites the same short note in his notebook. Finally, on a Thursday afternoon, he decides that saying something honest matters more than staying comfortable.

He doesn't say it out loud, not yet. Instead, he folds the note carefully and slides it through the vents of Piper's locker. He does it just before the last bell rings. It just says: "You've mattered more to me than any other friend I've ever had. I don't want you to leave without knowing that. Can we talk after school?"

He spends the rest of the day barely listening in class. He watches the clock and rehearses what he might say, if she actually shows up.

At three o'clock, he waits by the bike racks, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. A few minutes later, he sees Piper walking toward him, the folded note held carefully in one hand.