| 12 |

❝ Why did the picture go to jail? Because it was framed. ❞

CHARLOTTE STIRRED SLOWLY, clawing on her bed covers. Groaning, she threw the blankets off of herself and stumbled to her closet. Another day, another day...

It wasn't just another day, however, she realized, her eyes widening.

Last night.

Yesterday was magical.

Kissing Teddy. She'd never imagined anything so surreal. That was the reason she actually got up this morning... To see Theodore.

She also didn't want to go to school, however. The worries, the confusion, the fact that she made out with her best friend that would be there, that would be at school!

Charlie felt a little bit of regret after running out on him, but knowing her, she would have said something to screw everything up.

Loitering to her desk, she grabbed the purple hair brush and brushed through her tangled mess of knots as she thought.

What if he played it off as if nothing happened? Man, she'd be so pissed if he did. What if he hated it? What if he didn't want to be friends anymore because of it? That was highly possible. How would they be able to go from friends one second, to kissing each other the next? Oh no, the stress was creeping through her body.

With one last yank through her hair, she put down the brush and rushed to her closet to pick out clothes for the day.

Changing into fuzzy black sweatpants and a red and black gryffindor tank top, Charlotte threw on some socks and a pair of worn out boots and combed her hair into a bun. Then she slid into her black hoodie and felt prepared for the day. Kind of.

Actually, not at all. She felt as if she were about to throw up.

She wanted to see Theodore, but she also didn't.

Gosh, maybe he wanted to see her. But maybe he wanted to stay as far away as he could from her. Holy shoot, there was no way she was going to school. She couldn't face Theodore yet. No way in hell, muchacho.

Blinking hard, she sleepily stumbled back to her bed and face-planted on the hard mattress. Her nose was squashed, and her cheeks were squished. "Gghhhshhggah."

"Charlotte!" her father's deep voice yelled out from downstairs. "Come eat breakfast!"

"Ghhshahrghrg," she groaned [again] loudly into her pillow.

Thundering footsteps charge up the stairs and her door flew open. "Come on Charlotte, you need to eat before school."

"Canstayhomedad," she said, her voice muffled from the pillow.

"No, you're going to school. Up, up, come on," her dad chanted, grabbing her limp arms by her side, beginning to drag her off.

"What the heck?" she cried out when her body thumped on the ground, her hands flying out from under her.

"You need to hurry, you're going to to be late."

Her dad was a stocky guy, standing tall and intimidating at around six foot four. People would always comment on how Charlotte got his nose, and has almost the same smile, dimple and everything. But the similarities about ended their, her father's eyes a steel grey color, his hair a blonde tornado (with a hefty amount of grey, but he wouldn't admit it).

"Fine, I'm going, God," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and popping back up.

After eating a quick bowl of Lucky Charns, she grabbed her backpack and headed out to the car.

Taking her usual seat in the front, her dad slid into the driver's seat and her brother got in the back.

"What's up with you?" her brother Lucas said when Charlotte let out a heavy sigh, looking out the window as her father started the car.

"I just- things." Her voice was hushed. She didn't want to talk about it with her dad in the car. She also doubted Lucas wanted to hear about her problems.

It was a gloomy day.

Maybe it could have been a sign, looking back on it. If she were into superstitious stuff. The clouds were monstrous, grey, and depressing, draping over them like a dome. They streaked across the sky like dark grey, stretched cotton balls. Minuscule droplets of rain trickled down their windshield and windows, and a light fog drifted like a ghost in the air. It was one of those days you start with a frown.

It was the middle of March, and it amazed her that she had known Theodore, Malcolm, and Shane for about two or three months now.

They reached school just in time. She rushed in and headed for her locker. Heaving her backpack off of her shoulder, she stuffed it inside.

To her right, Charlotte noticed Malcolm wandering aimlessly, chatting to a couple friends here and their.

"Hey, Malcolm!" she called out. He turned to face her.

"Char, what's up?"

"Actually Malcolm, d'you know where Theodore is?"

Malcolm snaked his fingers through his chocolate brown hair, ruffling it a little. "He texted me this morning, he's absent. Said he's sick."

"Wait, he's absent?" she murmured. That means no notes today. As well as no Theodore. Malcolm nodded.

Was he absent because of the kiss?

Oh gosh, what if he had been sick when he kissed her? Ew ew ew, oh that's nasty.

She crinkled her nose. "Lovely," she said to herself.

"Why? Do you-"

"Oh, no no no, it's fine, it can wait."

"Alright, yeah," Malcolm coughed, glancing around the hallway.

Charlotte awkwardly dispersed, entering homeroom, ready for a depressing day.

•|•|•

It was sixth period. In math class.

Shane had this class with her, so she tended to sit with him. He entertained her as the teacher lectured boringly on functions or trinomials or something. Sometimes they played hangman, or tic-tac-toe.

They sat in the back of the class. Mrs. Wyatt was droning on about something, God knows what.

The classroom just added to her very depressing, forlorn mood today. It had a very dreary atmosphere with only one window, greyish-white walls, and a cold chill that always seemed to be there.

With a shiver, she reached for her black hoodie that rested on the back of her chair and wiggled her way into it. Sighing, Charlie dug her hands far into her hoodie pocket. What the...

Her fingers froze as they clenched a small piece of paper. Her eyes were as round as quarters. No, no, no...

Charlotte pulled it out and read it, crinkling slightly as she smoothed it down. 'Why did the picture go to jail? Because it was framed.'

She was too confused to laugh.

It was the same as any other note. Same stiff, narrow handwriting, same generally bad joke.

Theodore wasn't here. Charlotte got a note.

Charlie got a note. She got a note.

How was this possible? There wasn't anything in her pocket thisp morning. It must have been placed today, at school, even though Theodore freaking Orion Higgins was freaking absent, freaking Theodore freaking Higgins being the person she had freaking thought was the one that freaking wrote the freaking notes to her! Now she was contemplating everything! If Teddy actually wrote her the notes, what their friendship was, but most of all the kiss!

There was a huge possibility that she had the wrong person pinned as her note writer right now. There could be someone else with a handwriting like that; it was a very generic, common-looking handwriting, so it was very possible. Extremely possible.

How would Theodore have gotten the note here? He couldn't have.

So maybe he wasn't the one that called her beautiful, maybe he wasn't the one that said she was always on their mind.

On one hand, she could obviously be overthinking this.

On the other hand, everything she'd assumed about Theodore could be wrong.

Theodore Higgins might not be her note writer.

Teddy. Teddy might not be writing her the notes after all. There was no ways it was possible.

Theodore Orion Higgins...was not her note writer.

Three months. Three months of false information. Friendship. His hoodie. Singing the Beatles. Sleepover. Hug. Dunkin' Donuts. DRAWING OF HER. KISS.

The room was blurred. The ceiling was swirling. The walls were closing in on her. Charlotte's heart rate picked up and her pulse raced. Her head was pounding. She couldn't breathe, her breaths were too shaky, her fingernails dug into her thigh. No...

She scrambled for good thoughts, good, soothing thoughts.

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. Augustus Waters and Hazel Lancaster [that wasn't a very happy thought, though].

Andy Dwyer and April Ludgate. Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy. Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Charlotte, Charlotte, it's okay, calm down. Breathe."

Shane's voice sounded so far away.

Charlotte and Teddy had kissed.

Not her note-writer.

All assumptions wrong.

Not her note-writer.

She kissed him. He's absent.

They kissed.

Not her note-writer.

She was wrong.

That was the precise thought that fleeted through Charlotte Jackson's head when she fainted.

a/n

your thoughts on the chapter? so charlie's fainted, teddy's absent, he doesn't write the notes???

i'm super sorry this chapter's crap ad i'm also sorry it's so short.

i'm staying at a hotel that's wifi is a little messed up *cries* for like one more day so i hope i'll be able to get your comments. i'm also in a lot of pain currently along with constant swearing and emotional rollercoasters because being a girl is soooo fun amiright so i'm posting this as i'm curled up in a ball, rocking. god my uterus is slowly trying to murder me with a hatchet wtf no stop.

IM SUPER GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE THE IDEA OF THE TEDDY CHALLENGE!

um, so this book has 35k reads????? when the heck did that happen, oh my gosh tHANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHH THANK YOU THANK YOU

thank you for the votes and comments and reads, they make my life, siriusly (aha username puns)

dedi to @sandradadda "is it bad that i want you to update like right now or just completely finish the book" it is not, my friend. me as well.

GOALS
40k...?
150 votes bc sadly no teddy in dis chap
150 comments