No Thanks

Evan is watching, no doubt. Her tongue flicks as she struggles with the knot and his smirk is audible. Thatboy. Giving presents without warning - he’s always eager to one-up her.

She withholds a triumphant cheer when the navy wrapping falls. Sound constricted.

Her blinking is slow as she processes. Her heart is quiet in her chest each second her breath fails. There is no thrum but the shifting of his fingers in the grass.

His - hopeful? - grin.

She inhales sharply.

Deceiving, a practiced simper - is it only a game? - “Thanks, I hate it.”

So much that I love it.