Amara Pierce. Holy Shit, Holland! You just met a damn unicorn!

Three years I'd been hearing about this magical social media queen with an ever changing appearance. If I were like Shan, following everyone under the sun on social media, I might have known what she looked like earlier.

In three years, I'd never once met her—not in class, not through any of our somewhat mutual friends, and not at any parties. Which was odd, because for all her popularity, I'd have thought she'd be at all the parties. Maybe she had been, and I'd never noticed. But how I missed that body, I couldn't understand.

I'd finally met her, and it was every bit as awesome as meeting a mythological creature, right down to the flirty way she said she was too much to handle.

Which is why I wished that I hadn't picked up the note she dropped as she left. But I had. And I made the mistake of looking at it, instead of catching up to her and returning it. Now I knew the unicorn was a sick and disturbed individual I didn't want to ever have the misfortune of meeting again.

Well, except to return her note. I spotted the girl with the ridiculously long hair that faded from black to red to blonde as she stood in line at the cafeteria, and headed right for her.

"Amara?"

Her coppery face turned toward me and her glossy lips slowly curved into a smile, and it was like a punch in the gut, sucking all air from my lungs. "Hey!"

Don't get distracted by her face, you Idiot! She's nuts! I focused on her ear and held out the paper to her, "You dropped this."

"Um... oh. Are you sure?" She grinned, like she thought I was making up an excuse to talk to her. It probably happened a lot.

"Yeah." I failed and looked her in the eyes for a second. "I saw it drop out of your pocket this morning."

"Oh. Thanks." She gently plucked it from my hand. For a second her eyes widened, but she recovered quickly, fixing me with a playful suspicious look, "You didn't read it did you?"

She was joking about it when I knew she was probably worried I'd out her crazy to everyone in the lunch line. Unsurprising. Popular girls like her were always playing a role.

"No," I matched her tone; I didn't want to be involved in her mess. "Why would I do that?"

"Okay." She pocketed the note and smiled, dismissing me with a typical, "Thanks again."

I was used to too many popular girls like her, and though she seemed nicer than them, I now knew the real her was completely unhinged.

-.-

"Three more games before the tournament, you think you guys'll make it?"

What? I looked away from the note I was fixating on and looked at the tiny girl who was curled into my best friend, Trey's side. I hadn't even noticed Shan join us. I was careful not to scowl at her; I know she meant well with her question.

"Don't jinx us!" Heinz sniped loudly before she could say anything else that might curse our chances. Trey, Heinz and myself all crossed ourselves, walked backward three steps and touched the mascot that hung off Shan's backpack.

"You guys are ridiculous!" She cackled, her hair bobbing around her small face.

"Aren't you the one who matches your socks and hair ties when we go into game season?"

"True!" She shrugged. "Ooh! I'm so excited about Sean's party tonight. I just want to dance!"

Twirling ahead of us, she danced to an imaginary soundtrack till she was joined by some friends. I watched as they all broke down giggling and then began planning what they would wear later that night.

Not interested in hearing any of it, I crushed the note in my fist and pushed it into my pocket. I'd found it in my locker earlier and it was too much like the one Amara had dropped two days ago. I only read half of it—something about everyone thinking a fake girl was sweet—before Trey slammed my locker shut and proclaimed we were going for burgers. I would need to find the girl again and confront her about the notes I really didn't want to get any more of. It would have to wait till after the weekend, because I doubted I'd be able to find her and pull her aside before Trey got too hungry.

"Hollaaaaaand!" One of Shan's friends slid up to my side, her arm curling around my waist like it belonged there. "Will I see you tonight?"

Huh? I stared at her a minute before realising she was talking about the party. Beyond her, several other girls watched me, all of them giving me or Heinz similar googly eyed looks. Ugh! Katies, all of them! Singularly focused on getting and keeping boyfriends as if that's all there was to life. And why bother anyway? Most high school relationships were stamped with an expiration date of graduation—if they made it that far. Even Trey and Shan, with their sickeningly cute relationship that had survived the past three years, would likely implode before we graduated. God, I didn't know why Shan bothered hanging out with these girls.

As much as I wanted to say Shan's friend wouldn't see me tonight, I knew I'd be there.
We were in the middle of the soccer season and since we were the top players on the team, we were at almost all the social events. I hated it. I didn't even understand why; it's not like we needed to drum up support for the team for us to do well.

Shan caught my eye with a smirk, and I knew what she was thinking. Like the popular star athlete I was expected to be, I'd be drowning in half-drunk Katies all night.

Across the parking lot, Sean, the sometimes fourth member of our group, yelled for me. "Daze, you better be there tonight!"

Slowly separating the girl's arms from my waist, I sidestepped the group and jogged over to him; it was his parent's fancy and oversized home the party was at. "Why, you hoping to catch some of my seconds?" I joked, knowing Sean got more than enough attention on his own. Money did that.

"Nah man! You ditched last time. You better show!"

Last time the party had been short notice and I'd had other engagements, like the job I needed to work so I could get out of here. This time I had no excuse, and it was either be home or be at Sean's. I chose Sean's—Katies and all.

"You're just mad 'cause that one didn't pay any attention to you!" I nodded to where a group of future cover girls were attracting a small crowd of oglers.

Sean's denial was weak and I knew he was hoping the tall dark-skinned girl, Michelle, would have to hang out with him when her two friends inevitably attached themselves to Heinz and my sides. Man he had it bad!

We watched them for a minute, and I recognized a sometimes hook-up in the group, straddling a visitor's motorcycle like she was riding it. I wondered if I'd see her tonight. She noticed me watching, but didn't bother to acknowledge me, winking into her phone for a selfie.

I laughed and slapped Sean's shoulder. "Good luck with that, Bro; they only notice their phones."

"And you." Sean sniped under his breath. "Who knows why."

I knew why. Popularity. They were too pushy, and too popular. I mean, sure I enjoyed the perks that came with it, but I really didn't like hanging out with other popular people. To them, what you had mattered, where you came from mattered, who your friends were, mattered. It shouldn't have, but it did, and I hated it. And since I had none of those things that mattered so much to these girls, I was nothing but a prop; the talented, cute athlete.

Heinz caught the tail end of the conversation as he came up behind me and cackled, "Because, Man! No one wants to imagine getting busy with the guy who dances like a chicken! Ba-bawk, ba-ba-ba-bawk!"

Chuckling at Heinz' terrible clucked beatboxing and impression of Sean's unfortunate dancing, I clapped Sean's shoulder. "True story, Bro. I'll see you tonight." 

-.-

What do we think of Holland?