Author: toffeecakesxox PM
three : because, sometimes, paper hearts have a lot more meaning than you'd expect them to.. -in progress, series of oneshots-Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 11,138 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 10 - Updated: 06-26-11 - Published: 05-16-09 - id: 2673676
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Because, Sometimes . . . #3
. . . paper hearts have a lot more meaning than you'd expect them to.
Camden & Macy
"Oh my freaking gosh. Just shut up already. My mother didn't name me Macy just because I was born in Macy's." I was actually born in a hospital, thank you very much. Geez. Boys these days. Acting like they know everything about a person when they really didn't.
"You guys should probably leave before she goes all crazed midget on you," Camden piped in, trying to be helpful. All I could do was glare at him, trying to convey how annoyed I was. He merely smiled innocently. "You shut up too! 'Best friend,' my ass." By then, the annoying duo the entire school deemed to be "boys" had bounded off, pleased as punch with my reaction to their stupid stunts and whatnot. Immature monkeys, all of them.
"Why do they love to torture me so much?" I groaned in a kill-me-now sort of way. Camden merely increased the strength of his stupid smile, mussed my hair and walked off, not even bothering to regale me with a no doubt stupid answer. "I'm serious now, Cam. 'Best friend,' my ass!" He looked over his shoulder at me, those baby blue eyes glimmering with suppressed amusement. "Love you too, Mace!" he called before he turned the corner. All I could do was huff and slam my head unceremoniously to the hard textbook in my arms. Book, meet face. Face, meet book. You'll be seeing a lot of each other in the last two years of high school.
"Hey, Cam! Wait!" I huffed again, and attempted to run without looking like a dying gazelle about to be eaten by a hungry lion. "Oh my gosh, why do boys walk so fast? Not because they're taller and therefore have longer legs or anything, of course not." Finally, when I caught a flash of his blond hair about to disappear around another corner—seriously, how many corners were in this stupid school anyway?—I gasped out his name as best as I could. Needless to say, I sounded like a dying hippo, and I ran like a dying gazelle. I was a human zoo just waiting to happen.
"Caaaaaaaaaaaaam," I screeched. "You forgot to give me my homework planner back! I need that, you butthole." I basically forgot everything if it wasn't written down somewhere—I tended to use my arms and hands as a pseudo piece of paper before Cam thoughtfully bought me a planner.
He didn't hear me. Oh my goodness. I pumped my legs faster, practically tripping all over myself down the hallway, trying to be the cheetah chasing after the dying gazelle, but of course I failed. Of course.
This was pathetic. Why couldn't Camden hear me? Was he like, distracted or something? Oh no, maybe he was listening to his iPod on like, a super deafening volume or something! Oh snapple, he'd never hear me then.
I looked to my left, saw a jock holding a football, and I grinned. "Excuse me," I started sweetly, even batting my eyelashes a little bit. Okay, so I might not be the most "OH HOT DAMN let us double take again and again" girl out there, but it's not like I was bad looking. Apparently the jock thought so, because he smiled down at me, expecting my next words. "May I borrow your football?"
His eyes unfocused for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what I just said, but then he realized I was serious and handed it over. Aiming with one eye, my tongue sticking out rather attractively of I do say so myself, I threw the ball, hoping it would hit in just the right place…
I guess I had ninja aiming skills or something because I hit one of his pressure points and he stumbled to the floor, his leg muscles/nerves apparently not working or something. "Uh oh… Well, uhm, thank you for your football!" I handed it back to the jock who was staring at me as if I had come from the depths outer space. He even backed up a little. I barely noticed, considering I was too worried about Camden and furiously hoping I hadn't done anything permanent to care.
When I got to him, I realized he was asleep or something. Of course, being the rational being I am, I slapped him across the face. Hard. He woke up instantly.
"What the hell did you do that for, Mace?" he asked me, pulling white ear buds out of his ears as he sat up. I KNEW IT! I knew he was listening to music at an abnormally loud level. Just saying.
"I was running after you—you know how much I hate running—but you never even heard me, you butthole. Oh my gosh. I needed my planner. Without it, I probably would've died. I don't remember anything I need to do right now. You know how bad that is!"
He looked at me with wide eyes, confused for some reason. "I thought I gave it back?"
"No you didn—"
"Don't tell me you didn't check your bag, silly goose."
I huffed. "Of course I did!"
Of course I didn't. How could I be so stupid.
Discreetly, I peered into my book bag, nearly dying when I saw the spiral binding of my favorite blue-green planner with a baby panda holding bamboo in a rather adorable way on the front. "Uh well… I actually didn't check." Hanging my head in shame, I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. "Forgive me for knocking you out?"
Camden laughed, his eyes alight with amusement. Instant forgiveness! Score! Best friend perks are theeee best. "That was a pretty good throw, let me tell you. I wasn't even expecting it."
"Well, of course. You were too busy listening to your deafening music and checking out hot girls without trying to be too obvious."
He had the nerve to mess my hair up again, though I guess I owed it to him for making him personally meet the ground in front of all those aforementioned hot girls. They probably wouldn't see it as his most attractive moment. "You know me too well, Mace."
I preened, trying not to be too obnoxious. I had more dignity than that. "Of course I do. I'm special."
"Yes, you are," he agreed, nodding once as if to prove the point. "But I need to get going. I'll call you later, okay?" He smiled again before he left. I never noticed how much of a smiler Cam was. It was then that I realized he'd only ever had one girlfriend in his life, and even then he hadn't smiled nearly as much. Her name had been Sherry, but I called her Peaches because she always smelled like damn peaches. I mean peaches, the fruit with the hairy skin. Peaches were hairy, right?
But that's beside the point. Sherry/Peaches was not hairy at all. Her perfect blonde hair had been cut into a short, stylish bob, cut in a way that accentuated her pretty features. I think Cam hadn't been in love with her, though, which makes me wonder why he even agreed to go out with her in the first place. Boys were just weird, I suppose. Even best friend boys like Cam. I didn't really have too many girlfriends—only one, actually—but she was my cousin, so it doesn't really count. He was stuck with me.
I guess, if he wanted to, Camden could score as many girlfriends as he wanted. He was attractive, to say the least. Just because I was his best friend didn't mean I was immune to his boyishly good looks.
Basically, he was the epitome of the boy next door, because, well, he did live next door. Right next door, in fact. A cliché just waiting to happen.
His light blonde-brown hair spiked a little at the ends, which meant he rarely ever had breakouts because of oily hair grease. Those blue eyes of his were pretty much the windows to his soul, an ocean of thoughts and emotions flitting through his mind in quick succession. (Look at me trying to be all poetic and such.) Only the most practiced friend could figure out what he was thinking or feeling, and since I was his best friend—like, seriously, his BEST friend; he didn't even have a dependable guy friend to call his own and I have no idea why—I knew him like the back of my own hand, which was actually rather tan and tiny with slightly long fingers, thank you very much.
I have no idea why I'm thinking about his eyes, or his hair, or his only past girlfriend, but I was going to stop. I needed to stop before I ventured down a road I wasn't willing to travel. There were way too many variables and scenarios and all around muck that came with falling for a best friend. That wasn't the way to go for me. Of course not.
I could lie to myself very well, if I tried hard enough.
He called me later, at 11 o' clock on the dot. It was a nightly ritual, and he'd never broken it before. He always called, even if it was earlier or later than 11. There was no set time. As long as he called, I was perfectly fine. Even when we were fighting, it was either Camden or me who called, a silent sign of forgiveness, so basically our fights never lasted more than a few hours.
I don't know if that's even possible, but it was true for us, and if he or I were to ever miss a phone call, that would have to be a super serious offense.
"Hey, Mace. How was your day?" I could practically hear his smile over the phone, and I probably could see him, if I bothered getting out from under my comfy covers and pulling along the line of string attached to a can full of 17 marbles, each significant, individual marble a birthday gift from Camden—even if we'd only met when we were 5 years old.
He'd felt like he had to "make up" for the lost time. It was another ritual we had; he gave me marbles, I gave him the paper hearts or paper stars that I made whenever I had a chance. It all started when I made 6 little paper stars for his 6th birthday, at a loss as to what to give a boy, 7 hearts for his 7th, you understand the pattern, here? Of course I had to "make up for the lost time," too, so he had about 378 paper hearts/stars in his (super large) soup jar—actually, I think he's been using a bulk sized coffee can from Costco (I mean, they had monster sized containers!) for his paper shapes.
That amount of paper shapes made a lot of noise whenever I pulled on the string, even if he kept some in a separate jar on his desk since there was so many. And it's common sense for 17 marbles to make a whole bunch of noise whenever he pulled on his string. It was our way of communicating without going over on our phone bill—or if it was urgent and we happened to be at home and didn't bother to pick up the phone.
Okay, so maybe I've been crushing on him for a while, considering the fact that I just fully explained another one of our rituals, but I was never ever ever going to admit my feelings for him, even if we were the last two people on earth. It was never going to work out. Even if he was my best friend. Clichés didn't happen to crazy girls like me, who asked random jocks to borrow a football in order to only end up knocking out my best friend, relied on a panda planner to remember everything and who only had one and a half (Eve was my cousin, remember?) friends she could really call her own.
"My day was fine, actually. You know how it is. After school, all I did was homework—can you believe it! A butt load of homework in the second week of school. But I already did cross stuff out on my planner, so I'm happy now."
"You're such a weirdo. That took you like, twenty minutes to finally say. What were you thinking about?"
"Oh, just the cans."
"The cans? Why?"
"I mean, it has meaning. If you had that same kind of thing with someone else, I think I would be jealous."
"Well, Mace, you know I don't. Don't worry about it. I do have to tell you something, though!" he sounded so genuinely excited, I immediately perked up, instantly forgetting my depression about possibly not being the only girl he had a ritual with blahblahblah. I wasn't even his girlfriend and I already had a stupid jealous thought about something I already knew in the back of my mind.
"What is it? Is it juicy, like steak?" Oh my goodness, that was the stupidest thing to ever come out of my mouth, and that's saying something.
"I think I met someone today." My heart sunk to my stomach, and tears came to my eyes. I felt so stupid.
"Oh, really? Who was she? What did she look like?" I hoped he didn't notice the change in my voice or that I sounded like I was sick—but I was sick, so whatever.
"She's amazing. Her name's Vanessa, and she's got these dark like, intense eyes, the most beautiful jet black hair—it's like a freaking waterfall, I'm serious, and her voice must be from like, heaven or something. I don't know, but I met her a few hours after I left school. She was at the bookstore and she thought I was working there because I was replacing a book that wasn't in its right place so she asked me a question and I knew what she was talking about so I showed her, but then I explained that I didn't work there, and she just laughed and said, 'well, it's sweet of you to replace that book when it wasn't even your job to do so.' I practically died because she called me sweet. I really really want to see her again, Mace."
"Did you get her number?" I couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. He seemed so happy; why did I have to be the one who brought him down?
"No, shoot! I should've asked. I'm so stupid."
"Took you a while to figure that out," I said, evilly. Okay, so maybe I was a little bit hurt, but this was normal for us, so he would never ever tell.
"Shut up," he replied, but he said it halfheartedly, a smile obvious in his voice.
"If you see her again, I think it'd be a sign for you to ask for her number, Cam."
"I never thought you would say that, honestly. You never seemed too into romance and things like that."
"Well, maybe you don't know me that well," I replied vaguely. He didn't even notice, the jerk.
"Maybe I should go back to the bookstore tomorrow, huh?"
"Maybe… Hey, look, I have to go to bed. My mom's yelling at me through the wall cuz apparently I talk too loud or whatever. Goodnight, Cam."
"Oh, okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
"Of course, dumb butt."
He laughed. "Goodnight, Macy's. Love you too, sweet thing."
"Shut your mouth." And then I hung up.
Well that was an entertaining conversation.
Without even bothering to pay attention, I hit the 2 on my speed dial, brought the phone to my ear, and waited till Eve's voice filtered through the receiver.
"Dude, why are you calling so late?" Oh come on, it was only 1 o' clock in the morning.
"Well. Cam crisis." That was all I needed to say.
"Oh honey," she said, and I could tell she was trying to sit up. "What happened? He found someone, didn't he? That asshole!"
"How do you know that?" I gasped. "I swear, it's like you have psychic powers or something."
"Maybe I do," Eve whispered mysteriously, before reverting back to her normal voice. "Who is she, what does she look like, and did he get her number?"
"Vanessa nolastnamegiven, she's hot, and nope, but I told him to go back to the bookstore tomorrow to see if she would come by."
"You're stupid too!" she practically screeched. "Why would you tell him that?"
"I just want him to be happy, Eve," I began, "and if it isn't supposed to be with me, how am I supposed to compete with someone like Vanessa?"
"Mace, you never even met the girl. She could be the totally wrong choice for him and he wouldn't even notice because he's a boy and boys are blind, blinder than a mole that lives underground."
"Well, I guess. But he really likes her! I can't stop him because that would look super suspicious."
She huffed. Eve was actually a really good huffer; I've taught her well. Before we established a close relationship, she never ever huffed. "Well, let's see… if this Vanessa is at the bookstore tomorrow, we need to go intercept her before she catches sight of Camden again. Because let's face it, that is one fine piece of the male species, and she would be stupid not to grab on when he so obviously likes her."
I groaned. "I didn't wanna go see her, Eve. What if I do something I regret? Like, killing her with a really heavy book or something?"
"No one will ever know," she snickered.
The next day was Saturday thank goodness, so Eve and I hung out at her house before going to the bookstore at like, six o' clock. At night, not morning. We're not that crazy. Nobody was there except a few elderly people and those studious college types that would be me in a couple of years. I almost died just watching them toil over their huge textbooks, scribbling and highlighting like nobody's business.
"Okay, so. How did he describe her again?"
I rolled my eyes. This girl had a memory that was more terrible than mine.
Using a direct quote from him—well, I guess I could remember the important stuff, like, the description of the hoe my best friend slash crush slash true love had given me—I said, "'She's got these dark like, intense eyes, the most beautiful jet black hair—it's like a freaking waterfall, I'm serious, and her voice must be from like, heaven or something.'" I was about to cry again.
Oh my gosh. I'm never this emotional. Stupid boy and his stupid love life and his stupid decision to tell me about it were doing terrible things to me.
"Okay. We will find her. Even if we have to stand by the doors like creepers and wait for a dark, intense girl to come through before this place closes."
As she was speaking, I peered behind her, and immediately found Vanessa, who looked as if she were conducting her own search party also.
She smiled, for some weird reason, and her eyes sparkled and her teeth glistened like blinding katanas straight from a samurai in Japan and I died from the gorgeous emanating from her. "Eve, I think I found her."
My cousin turned and gasped out loud. Thanks, Eve. "Oh my damn. She's gorgeous." So Vanessa was those "OH HOT DAMN let us double take again and again" girls, huh. Even my supposed half best friend thought so!
"I know. Stupid Camden."
"Let's go say hi!" I opened my mouth like a floundering flounder who had forgotten how to breathe while she grabbed my arm and dragged me to where Vanessa was perusing the new releases table.
"Yeah, come on, let's go!"
"Waaaait. She seems busy and distracted! Let's follow her a little first." I escaped her iron grip somehow and made a random beeline towards the historical biography section. Thankfully, she followed me.
We were like bonafide spies in those famous spy movies, pseudo finger gun included. We hid behind bookshelves like professionals, pretending to read interesting biographies on dead people long past whenever she walked by our aisle, still peering into the lines of books as if she were a lost child looking for her mother in a grocery store.
Finally, finally, after what seemed like hours of pretending to read fine print—my eyes would never be the same again—she found her target, immediately smiling, her eyes lighting up, while she ran up to him and kissed him full on the lips. I gasped. It wasn't Camden!
They both turned to look at the offending noise and I hurriedly buried my face in a book that was titled How to Find a Needle in a Haystack. I looked up and smiled sweetly. "I'm so sorry for interrupting, but you can actually find a needle in a haystack without being poked to death by hay because you could use like, cotton if you wanted! Instead of hay! So therefore I gasped because I felt bad for the people who are allergic to hay and can never ever find that needle, but now they can. I'm sorry. Go back to whatever it was that you were doing." And they did.
I hightailed it out of that stupid aisle like I was on fire. "EVE!" I screeched, annoying the people around me. I felt like I owed them a heartfelt explanation. "I'm sorry. Just looking for my long lost cousin. I heard she lived here, in this very bookstore, did you know that?" They looked at me like I was on crack, but I didn't care. I continued my desperate attempt at finding my long lost cousin.
"EVE! EVE! EVE!"
"Oh my freaking grapes, Macy. Shut up. I can hear you." She was right behind me. Of course she would be.
"You live here! Oh my gosh. I've found you at last!" I pulled her into a bear hug and squeezed till she was hyperventilating.
"What did you find out?" she wheezed out before bending forward in order to catch her breath.
"She has a boyfriend! The hoe has a boyfriend!"
Again, I received glares. "Uhm, the hoe, as in like, the shovel and the hoe. You never knew the shovel and the hoe were dating? Why do you think they come in a joint package at the store! How dare you!"
They just shook their heads as if to say well, what can you do, and proceeded to go back to their fancy schmancy books and magazines of various genres and suchnots.
"Oh my graaaaaaaaaaaapes! That's great! Are you going to tell Camden?"
I pondered that notion for a quick hot second, and nodded furiously. "He deserves to know. He shouldn't be all hung up on a girl who has a boyfriend."
"Aren't you going to call him now?"
I shook my head. "Well, no. I think I'll pull the can string tonight."
"Your choice. Now, let's go back to my place and watch a cheesy spy movie!" she grinned like the Cheshire cat, already pulling her keys out from her pocket. I swear, she was probably gonna hurt herself one of these days.
"And pretend they're us, except so much more immature and less professional and less cool? Yes, let's!"
And we skipped out of that bookstore with our arms interlocked; I even hummed the Mission: Impossible theme song. It seemed fitting, what can I say.
After watching two consecutive corny spy movies, I headed home. At 10:30, I pulled on the string and rattled it a few times. Camden immediately went to his window and held up his notebook.
What's up? It said in his neat teacher handwriting.
Can you come over? My handwriting was more loopy, big, but still rather nice if I do say so myself.
Aren't your parents home?
Well, yes. But they love you. They won't care.
Fine. I'll be there in a bit.
He merely smiled before disappearing out of his room. I couldn't help but watch as he left through his front door, walked down his walkway, looking rather dashing in sweatpants and a random t-shirt, walked some more along the four cement sidewalk tiles that separated our houses before coming up my walkway and ringing the doorbell.
I shot down the stairs faster than you could say hey girl hey.
"I haven't seen you in so long!" I greeted, dramatically pulling him into the house. Camden laughed and shook his head, very much like those old people at the bookstore, as I kept pulling until we reached my bedroom. And then I closed the door even more dramatically, pierced him with a look, and then jumped across the room in order to sit on my bed.
Crossing my legs, I fixed him with another look, one he returned for a few seconds before he morphed his face into a stupid expression, his eyebrows dancing across his forehead. I cracked up, laughing hysterically. I nearly forgot what I was supposed to tell him.
"Oh yeah," I breathed out. "I have to tell you something!"
"What is it?" he waited for me to recover. How sweet of him.
"Okay well, Eve and I were at the bookstore today and we happened to catch sight of Vanessa! At least, I was pretty sure it was Vanessa. There aren't too many dark, intense yet sweet girls here, after all, so we were curious but we kept to ourselves. And then we were going to the exit when we saw her with someone! And they were making out like nobody was watching! I felt like I had to tell you so you didn't get your poor little heart broken like it was when Sherry/Peaches dumped you for that drama dude."
"First of all, Mace, it was a mutual agreement to break up. I was not heartbroken about it! And second of all, why did you stalk the bookstore in order to see who Vanessa was?"
"I did not stalk the bookstore! I was buying AP books for school. Duh."
"Well then, how come I don't see any bags or AP books in your room?"
My brain whirled. I think he could see it going because he had a slight smile on his face. "Don't even bother lying," he said, just as I began to explain.
"—Well, you see, I left them at Eve's!" which was partially true, considering I hadn't gone to the bookstore just to stake out Vanessa. That would've been stupid of me. But I hadn't bought AP books. So sue me. Those things are scary.
"Okay," he said, a skeptical look on his face, "but still, why were you looking for her?"
"I had to make sure she was the right choice for you, Cam. You're lucky I never told you about any guys or else you'd be doing the same for me, I would hope."
"How come you never told me about any guys then?"
"Well, uhm, there never was anybody I thought was worthy of talking about." That was a complete and total lie. Of course he didn't believe me.
"Come on, Mace. I know you're a girl. I'm not stupid. You must have had a crush on someone." He was leaving it open, and it was up to me to close that door before he could open it some more.
Did I want to, though?
Of course I did. I didn't want to risk anything.
"Hey! How come you're not upset about Vanessa being taken?" Oh yeah, smooth move Macy.
"Well… uhm, you see," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, a sheepish smile taking over that know-it-all smirk he'd had before, "I already knew she was taken."
"You did? But how come you told me you wanted to see her the next day?"
"Well, uhm…" again with the neck rubbing. It was cute. I hoped he put deodorant on. He was practically sitting by me, on the floor, though—it had always been that way for some reason—and I could smell him if I tried hard enough. "I wanted to see how you would react."
"You whaaat? Why? How come? I had to make up a story about the shovel and the hoe when I didn't even have to?"
"Shovel and the hoe… what the heck… oh okay, well, uhm, I needed to prove one of my theories." Did I mention he had theories? A lot of them, in fact, but the situation at hand was more important to pay attention to, so I won't bother telling you about his theories. They're all boring.
"And what theory was that?" I asked breathlessly, suddenly knowing where this was going.
"I wanted to know if you'd get jealous if I told you about a girl."
"And you totally did." He grinned, standing up. I looked up at him, my eyes confused.
"But… why would you want to know that?"
"Well, you see, I wanted to know if you had feelings for me."
"You totally do." There was no point in denying it now, was there? This guy was smart. Stupid Eve. This boy wasn't stupid. My best friend wasn't stupid or else he'd never have made friends with me on that fateful day in kindergarten, when a stupid boy had pushed me off the swings and he'd stuck up for me, his chipmunk voice rising at every indignant word.
"How long have you known?"
"Ever since you gave me 16 paper hearts made out of heart paper. I opened one and it had my name and your name combined written across the entire back page." I take that back. I'm the stupid one.
I hadn't even been paying attention to what paper I used because I had a set of precut pretty papers I bought a lot of for the sole use of making paper shapes. I was probably writing on what I thought was a scrap of paper but one that I eventually turned into a paper heart. I guess I never would've thought he'd actually bother opening one.
"Wait, so you only have 377 paper shapes? That's not right!"
"Shut up, Macy. Geez, you are such a girl. Only choosing to see things you want to see."
"What am I not seeing then huh, if you're so smart?"
He leaned closer, leaning over the edge of my bed, close enough for me to see the gold and amber flecks in his blue windows to the soul. I caught my breath when he started to speak.
"How I'm so madly, totally, completely in love with you, my best friend in the entire world." I smiled, my heart racing, and I couldn't control myself anymore.
I launched myself at him, his arms automatically going around me, as if it were second nature, and kissed the theories right out of him. He kissed me back, thank you very much.
"Did you have a theory about how well I could kiss?" I wondered, looping my arms around his neck, tilting my head to the side.
"Well, no, but if I had, you totally would've surpassed my expectations."
"Wait, is that a compliment?" I looked at a spot behind him, trying to decide if it was or not.
He pulled me closer, our bodies touching. "Of course it is, you silly girl."
I smiled at him again—was I the smiley one now? Or were we both smiley, happy to be together, best friends and now I guess boyfriend and girlfriend?
I'd leave that question for later. Right now, all I wanted to do was kiss even more theories out of my stupid best friend turned probable boyfriend.
I kissed him so hard, we caused my desk to rattle, therefore making my reserve of paper hearts—meant solely for him and only him—to fall out of their pretty jar and onto the carpet. I smiled again.
"I think I've overcompensated for your next couple birthdays."
He looked down, at the hundreds of paper hearts I'd been saving for his next birthdays and he smiled as well. "Just the way I like it."
And then he kissed me again, completely beating Vanessa and her boyfriend's uhm, intensity at the bookstore. Just saying.
Oh, and by the way? Clichés can happen to odd—shovel and hoe—girls like me, so don't ever give up hope, you hear me? Or else I'll throw paper shapes at you and that would not be pleasant at all. Those things hurt! Paper cuts, after all.
Okay I'll shut up now.
Author's Note: so I haven't updated this in a while. I guess I owed you guys an extra long #3 (this one's about 5,425 words), and I totally would've put this under its own one-shot entitled paper hearts with a cute summary and everything, but I figured since I wrote this for the Because, Sometimes series I'd just place it under there. Anyway, the M-C name theme was in this one, so it's meant to be in Because, Sometimes anyway. Maybe I'll continue something with the paper hearts/stars and put that under its very own one-shot, huh? Like, maybe if these two adorable people reproduced and their daughter well… you get the idea. (my idea by the way ;D)
And yes, the communication notebook-window-next door neighbor thing was inspired by Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me music video. Funny thing is, I never even listened to the song while I was writing this. (:
& it might seem like I wrote from my own personal experience (especially with those last few lines) but if something like that happened to me, I'd have written about it a long time ago. ;]
Don't forget to read and review! (Oh & as always, please tell me if there's a mistake somewhere in there or if you need me to clarify a certain scene/paragraph/sentence/character, etc. I promise I don't bite ;D)