Subject:Tomorrow is Forever
Roses are red, violets are blue
Love isn’t easy from my point of view
But from yours, I see something I need
A kiss on your lips, a heart that will bleed.
Tomorrow you’ll see me like I see you
Just like the violets I’ll be in blue
My love you’ll be…at last
Forever and steadfast.
Ready to breathe you in…
KillerPlotTwist
I feel a cold shiver tighten my spine.
It’s probably nothing. I receive all sorts of strange messages and comments. It’s part of becoming internet famous. People don’t have boundaries and feel it is their place to be anywhere and everywhere they want to be.
But this message feels different, like…
“Is something wrong?” Evan asks.
I shake my head. “Just fanfiction stuff.”
I say the word like it means nothing to me, but I watch as his face crawls with either curiosity or animosity. It could honestly be either since his facial expressions don’t seem to vary much. At least, not with me.
“So, you really don’t go back home?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, confused, staring at the message on my phone again, wondering whythisone seems more cryptic than most.
Tomorrow is my reveal, and I haven’t really thought about it. My real identity is about to be exposed.
“You don’t go back often to see your family?” he repeats in a different way.
“Just at Christmas,” I reply, and then I add, “We just aren’t that close.”
I take a long sip of my water, hoping the fluid will wash away what I can only describe as cooties from reading the poem, like little bedbugs biting at my skin.
“That’s too bad,” he finally mutters as the waitress comes up to our table.
“Anything else for you two?” she asks, looking at Evan and not me.
I watch as Evan discreetly looks at the navy name tag on her T-shirt. “I think we’re ready for the check, Tiffany. Thank you.”
I hate to admit that I think it’s commendable for Evan to respond using the waitress’s name instead of just rushing her off to retrieve the bill. I also hate to admit that we’ve just finished a cordial conversation over supper. No bickering, no rude teasing, no name-calling.
“I’ll be right back, sir,” Tiffany replies before walking off.
I can’t help but notice the swing in her hips as she walks away, as if she’s intentionally swaying them for attention. Attention from Evan. But he’s still staring directly at me, as if he’s pondering what question he should ask next. As if he’s enjoying himself.
I put my phone back in my pocket, pushing the message out of my hands and my thoughts.
