"I hate you! Get out of my face!"

Wow. That's just the way any teenage girl wants to start her day: the most popular guy in school declares in front of the entire gym class that he hates her guts.

Well, that's just the story of my life these days. Everyone who's anyone hates me. As if to emphesize that point, a red ball crashes into my face, knocking off my glasses.

"Simmons! You're out!" the gym teacher's voice echoes though the gym.

So, I go settle on the bleachers with the rest of the people out of the most violet game in the world: dodgeball.

Someone taps my shoulder. "Hey."

I smile slightly. "Hey, Tyler."

He grabs the spot beside me and nods towards Mike. "So, uh. Yeah, why does he hate you?"

I shrug. "You'd know better than me. Isn't he your BFF?"

He shudders. "Don't make it girly. He's my bud."

"Fine."

We watch the game go on for a few more seconds when Tyler clears his throat. "So, uh. Yeah. About Mike..."

I turn to him. "Yeah?"

"You uh, you know about this?" he passes me a crumpled piece of paper.

After opening it, and scanning over the words, I take in a harsh breath. "Oh my God. Where did you get this?"

"Mike."

"And he got it from?" I pleaded.

"Says it came from you," he shrugged.

"I'd never send this! Oh my God!" my eyes slammed shut.

Who on earth would send him a love not?