---Prologue---

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Tobasco sauce is hot,

And so are you.

Eve Millings smiled with satisfactory contentment. She peeled off the post-it note on which her poem was written. Eve barely noticed that her bold strokes of permanent marker had bled onto the following post-it note, leaving behind an array of incoherent dots.

Eve hummed to herself. Yes, she thought, he’s going to love it. Although…he might not actually know that it’s from me. She frowned slightly. This was the only flaw in her plan. She had been doting on him from very far away for almost an entire two months. (Eve would like to tell you about how far it actually is across the hallway. But maybe another time.)

Brushing her bangs from her eyes, Eve neatly tucked the poem into her knapsack and replaced the pad of post-it notes back onto her younger brother’s desk. Silently, she strode out of his room and into hers. She settled onto her bed and turned up the radio. Eve closed her eyes and allowed herself to open up to the music. She felt the bass tones, soothing her. She could feel the cooing melody swaying the room, ever so slightly…

“EVE! What did you do to my post-it notes?” hollered her perfectionist brother. “I specifically left the pad five centimeters from the left side and five centimeters from the wall! And you ruined my next sheet too!”

Eve rolled her eyes and turned her music up higher.