You're the dramatic one! I never even said that. But yes, you do not want to know who I am. You don't. And that's not even the point of these notes!

The point is letting you know that I love you! And I might dream about you sometimes ;]

I had stopped by my locker in the morning, happy to find a new note already there. It was short, the writing messier than usual, like they had rushed to write it before going home yesterday. Or possibly this morning. 

That thought made my heart flutter with nerves. We would've been just minutes apart. I could've accidentally stumbled into them. 

The morning swept by like a breeze, though I don't remember learning anything. Instead, I was writing short letters. 

I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't use my locker. At least, I didn't. So I'm gonna start putting my key under the basket of spare shirts, please don't steal it. 

And do you know what I dream about? Cookies mostly. The Belgian triple chocolate ones from tesco- fuck are they good. I hope you're a sweets fan, or I don't think we can be friends. 

– Elvis :) 

I put the note down, trying to stifle the stupid smile my ugly locker gave me. To add to the pink walls, a miniature mirror from a doll's house was propped up at the back. There was a new note on the door informing me that I needed mirrors to see the beauty of my own face. The only thing I saw was the red of my embarrassed cheeks. 

"What are you staring at?" Dan's voice made me jump. 

I slammed my locker, catching the tip of my middle finger. I bit my lip so I didn't yell, clenched my poor injured finger and locked my damn locker. 

"Hm?" I hummed, forcing a pained smile. 

Dan arched a brow. "Is this about the notes?" 

He was 100% correct but I for some reason didn't want him to know. I mean, he already knew about the notes, but not about my locker. I guess I was just scared of him seeing what it had turned into, or getting a hold of the key and reading everything. 

Dan was my best friend, had been since almost the start of secondary. But even the closest of friends kept secrets right? No one trusted anyone that much.

"Might be." I gave him a noncommittal shrug and walked past him. "Come on, we'll be late." 

He silently followed me out into the bitter cold to play a sad game of rounders with the rest of the class. Hardly anyone hit the ball, we were too frozen stiff to move our arms.

Not that it stopped Hazel from having fun. Hazel was a quiet guy, though his appearance screamed anything but. His short, curly hair was dyed a mix of blue and yellow. It was fading, but still made him the easiest person to spot in a crowd. 

He was known as a legend among the dangly earring fanatics – during pride month a year ago, he showed up to school with a different flag dangling from his ears every week. It was nothing overly dramatic, but it was a message the school eventually got, after Hazel suffered through many detentions. It was also how he came out, which I admired him greatly for. 

That's what made him one of the most obvious choices on my list of now 5 names. None of the other guys had come out as anything, or dated anyone but girls. 

Though, as I said. Hazel was quiet. I'd barely spoken to him before and didn't know how he spoke, what he liked, if he was a romantic – and clearly, my admirer was. 

Putting what happened last time I tried this to the back of my mind, I decided to find him at lunch. It wasn't hard, I saw his bright hair from a mile away. 

He was standing outside of the toilets, waiting. As I got closer, I noticed the drink he was holding: something in a Greggs to-go cup. 

Okay, I thought, my heartbeat speeding up, that doesn't mean anything. Greggs is popular and just around the corner. I tried to reason. It didn't stop the nerves welling up and the hope sparking in my chest.

I approached him, sending him a small smile. "Hey, Hazel."

He nodded, waiting for me to continue. 

"I just," I struggled. I did not want this to go as badly as last time. "Your hair's really cool. I wanted to tell you that." It wasn't exactly a lie.

He shuffled beside me, tapping his fingers nervously against his mug. "Thanks." He finally said, a smile shadowing his features. "So's yours."

I thanked him back, feeling a little heat swirl under my cheeks. This was awkward, but not nearly as bad as my talk with Reanne.