There’s a piece of red paper stuck to my locker with a piece of tape. I wonder what it could be. Maybe a note telling me I have to go see the principal. The principal and I are pretty tight, since I rescued her cat from a Dumpster once.
I set my backpack on the ground and take the paper off of the front of my locker. I start to unfold it, holding it away from my face like they say to do on bottles of pop and champagne and the like. Safety first, after all.
There’s nothing inside but four words written in loopy, girlish handwriting on the middle of the paper:
Run away with me.