Match held a soft paper envelope to her chest. Her nails found themselves tracing a cheap pink heart sticker seal, though not out of nervousness, more out of boredom.
At the last Freesmart sleepover, the girls found themselves on the special occasion of talking about boys. Typically, this never happens, but something was different. Pencil'd taken a long, overdue trip to get snacks, or something, so the subject arose without being shut down. It was strange how such a specific thing had happened but still felt a blur to Match.
She did, however, remember talking about Eraser. She never said he liked him, but everyone said she did, and out of adrenaline she complied. A card was made, and everyone was laughing as it was written, then it was shortly hidden from Pencil before she got back. After all, who knows how pissed she'd get. Match, specifically, was her bestest friend, and thinking about guys, the very thing she hates, was probably betrayal or something. It's not weird she has to be cautious about boys around her, right?
Pencil left to do something again, claiming she needed to talk to someone this time. The Freesmarters forgot who, forgot her, and snuck to find Eraser. Classically, he was hanging out with Pen, at one of the outside tables of Gelatin's Steakhouse, which was the perfect canvas for a simple plan. Bubble, Book, Ruby, and IC would hide in the nearby, conveniently placed bush, and Match would wait around the corner of the restaurant with the cheesy card they collaborated on.
All that wasn't essential now, important context becoming fleeting points she'd recall as she waited. Whatever happened, she was now waiting for something else too, and Eraser and Pen had the longest conversations ever.
She let her mind wander to pass time. Today was a beautiful afternoon. Dramatically, it was golden hour in the warm of summer, and the sun's warmth highlighted everything. There was a brief gentle gust of wind every now and then, rustling newly sprouted dandelions. Some radio Gelatin was playing drifted in the air with their seeds, overlapping with the voices of a distant conversation.
By now, especially with all this waiting, she'd rather be doing something else than just stand behind some corner. Hell if she even knew, let alone associated with whatever was in this card she was holding. She wondered if Pencil was back at the clubhouse by now, coming home to them all gone.
"Bye!" Just as she was thinking about ditching, Eraser's voice made her come to. Match stood up from leaning against the wall, listening for his footsteps. She prepared herself, but in no way was her heart racing, or was she anxious at all. She'd put on a cute show for her friends, they could laugh it off, and this fun'd be over. Maybe after she could actually enjoy this gorgeous summer evening.
The footsteps got closer and closer, encouraging her to peer over the edge, careful not to let her tip show. That's when it occurred she hadn't really planned this whole interaction, had she? Had she even planned anything? She didn't remember.
Ambitious, she stepped out from behind the corner, smiling. It didn't matter. She'd wing it.
"Oh, hey Matchy!" She froze. That is totally not Eraser.
Hopes her hearing had betrayed her quickly crushed as she looked over, silent at the moment. Pencil was certainly the one in front of her, smiling warmly and waving. Pen and Eraser were walking off in the opposite direction. "I didn't know you'd followed me."
"... Pence-pence!" Match blinked, dumbfounded, stumped on what to do. Somehow, she hadn't thought of this as possible. It felt like she couldn't do anything, really.
"… What's in your hand?" Crap. Her first thought was to hide the card, but after she'd seen it was too late to do that and way too early to ruin her dignity.
Then, there was the other side of the coin, the fact that she couldn't tell her why she was here. If Pencil found out that she was doing something like this for a boy, she'd freak out, badly. Match would rather fall off a cliff again than disappoint her like that.
It seemed as if the world had stood still apart from their conversation. All that mattered was how Match would or wouldn't tell Pencil who the card was for. Not the blending line between the ground and the sky, or how big that bush had to be to fit the four girls behind her. Were they even there anymore?
"It's, like… A card," She managed to shove something out. How was this more nerve-wracking than confessing to someone she barely cared about? Through her anxiety, this was an outcome she didn't know she subconsciously hoped for, adjusting the card's position in her hand.
"Uh, yeah, I can see that, silly!" Of course, she knew that! Pencil giggled, somehow relieving some of Match's stress. It was good to know that even if she was a total mess right now, she didn't care. "Who's it for?"
That didn't take any pressure off of her back though, because she had to make her next move good. For the sake of the Freesmarters, probably in the bush behind her, and Pencil's mood for the rest of the week.
"Ummm…. It's…" The crisp wind wasn't enough to keep her from sweating.
Match held the card out, even surprising herself a bit. "Like, for you."
Pencil looked down at her hand, casually taking the paper. She watched the shine on the glossy sticker, prying a finger between the flaps of the envelope. Unsure of what to say, and careful not to break the story she'd set up, Match watched intently. The sun was getting more vibrant by the second as it doused Pencil in golden light.
"Matchy, come on, you don't have to be this formal," For someone who thought this was extra, she sure was gentle not to rip it. "You could've just called me, or something…"
She peered down at the writing, which Match honestly wished she was doing too. She didn't remember anything the girls or herself had put down in there, which was relevant knowing the one reading was certainly not a close-to-stranger, or a stupid boy. Speaking of, was he or Pen even in this season?
It was enough, however, to dust– or more heavily distribute, blush on Pencil's face seconds into reading. It took her a minute that felt like an hour to finish, and when she did, she took a double take.
".... Um… D-do you really mean all that?" Going by memory, there as probably only two things Match personally affected on that piece of paper, which was a little pink sticker and her signature, so it was probably something about the vivid orange light that made her feel more connected to the card in the girl's hands.
"... Like, yeah." She hoped Pencil felt it too. Maybe that's why she was blushing so hard, and holding the community-ridden paper like it was her prized possession. Match would call it cute, but then again, she called anything she liked cute. Was that why she complimented her with it so often?
It was quiet for a moment, as the two kept eye contact. Match smiled, which made Pencil giggle again, and she glanced down at the card a third time. She grinned as she did, which was somehow more notable than the secondary, progressively blurring background.
"You're like, right. Who needs formal stuff like that," Match began as she took a step closer, reaching for the card in the utensil's hand and examining it. She dropped it on whatever orange blob she was standing on, going to hold Pencil's hand again and pulling her closer.
"I can just tell you some other way…"
Match's eyes shot open and met with a dark ceiling. She blinked once, twice, and then closed her mouth.
Her surroundings started to fit themselves together after that, far from unfamiliar. She was at a sleepover with the Freesmarters, laying next to Pencil in her bed, AKA: every night ever. She could make out the girls' figures scattered around the room and heard their light snoring fill the silence of nighttime.
Being able to actually recall how she got here, which was way different than moments before, confirmed that the whole ordeal was a crazy dream. Details of it were already fleeting in her mind as she lay awake. Match was too tired to feel anything towards it now, and she likely wouldn't remember any of it anyway.
Rolling on her side, her gaze drifted through the darkness to an electric clock on the bedside table. If the lack of sunlight hadn't given away the time, the numbers certainly did, reading 2:56 AM.
Turning over again, she was glad she was still tired. Hopefully, tired enough to dream.