I trudged up the stairs with the rest of them,  dreading seeing Xavier in his........ current state, and to see what cheesey ass evidence he'd left of his love for Mona. We arrived in his room, Alexia leading the way. She gracefully hopped over the corpse to his desk - oh my god, the corpse!

He lay there, eyes open, dried blood caked on his favorite t-shirt, his stomach torn open. Most definitely a knife wound. But no knife.

I almost didn't notice as Alexia removed the centerpiece of his prized bulletin board. He didn't!

She tossed the picture to Carolina, but Mona and I scrambled to see it. It couldn't be, could it? There was no way.

It was a photo. A nice, normal photo. Of a young Xavier, probably fourteen, and a young Mona, both in swimwear, his arm around her.

But that didn't matter. It was what was written on the back that mattered.

'The day I realized that I love Mona.'

Seeing his handwriting almost made me cry. Mona and Carolina were both wearing a face of cynical shock.

"You're kidding," said Carolina shakily.

"If I am, Xavier is," Alexia decided, crossing her arms.

This seemed to sway Carolina, who dropped the picture and fell sideways onto my lap, covering her pale- skinned face with a well-manicured hand and releasing a pitiful squeal.

"That was the day after-" Mona stopped. "All this time?"

She turned to me.

I nodded.

He loved her.

I wished he hadn't.