#die-forellex

Annie doesn’t say anything, just rolls her eyes. She shouldn’t be surprised. Pieck thinks everyone is cute after all. When she finds Pieck eyeing her with a strange look, she frowns. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Pieck says. She traces a figure eight on her desk, pursing her lips the way she does when she’s about to say something Annie might find annoying. “I think it’s just strange how much you dislike him. You never say it, but I can tell. He’s never been anything but nice though, so I don’t understand why you don’t like him so much.”

Annie shrugs. “It doesn’t make sense for someone to be that nice to everyone for no reason,” she says. “Passing out the math books all of the time when we could just grab them by ourselves? Remembering birthdays? And why does he have to ask how I’m doing all of the time?”

Pieck coughs, trying to cover up her laughter after hearing her friend’s ridiculous reasons. “Well, you let him get you a book anyway, don’t you? And there’s nothing wrong with saying happy birthday. Maybe he just has an impeccable memory. And, I don’t know, maybe he genuinely wants to know if you’re having a good day. It’s not that big of a deal, Annie.”

“Whatever,” Annie grumbles. Pieck will probably find any negative words she has against Marcel to be ridiculous. “What about the notes then? How does he have time to write notes to everyone?”

Her friend blinks at her, confused. “Notes?” Pieck repeats. “Do you get them every day?”

Annie nods. “Every day that I see him. He always slips one to me when he gives me my book,” Annie says. They’re beginning to pile up ridiculously in her locker, but she doesn’t know why she doesn’t just throw them all away. It just seems too cruel, she thinks. She might not find this habit of his to be charming, but it’s a bit mean to throw all those notes away.

“I’ve gotten notes from him before…but only once in a while, like when Pokko was too much of a chicken to ask me out himself. Marcel would slip me a note to let me know Pokko wanted to meet me somewhere after school,” Pieck muses. She looks at Annie curiously. “What kind of notes does he give you?”

It’s the first time that it’s occurred to Annie that perhaps not everyone receives a note from Marcel. Is he trying especially hard to win her over? The thought of it makes something in her chest flutter oddly, so she banishes from her mind as quickly as possible.

“Oh, just normal stuff like telling me I gave a good presentation in history or welcoming me back after the break,” Annie says, but her voice is growing quiet and she’s beginning to mumble the way that it does when she’s flustered. “That’s normal, isn’t it?”

Pieck hums, a gleeful smile on her face. “I think maybe,” she says in a sing-song voice, “you’re getting a little extra attention from our school’s prince charming.”

Annie’s about to tell Pieck that she’s being ridiculous, that there’s no way that would ever happen, but someone sets something on her desk with a large thud, making her jump.

“Shit, sorry, Annie!” Marcel says, his eyes wide. “I didn’t think those would be so loud!”

Pieck just sits there, a knowing look on her face. “It’s okay, Marcel. Annie’s just a little jumpy today,” Pieck says sweetly. “It’s very nice of you to get the books for us today.”

“It’s no problem. It’s a hassle to walk over there when people crowd over, so I might as well just grab your books when I get mine too. Save you guys the trip.” Marcel smiles. Annie’s never noticed how nice and straight his teeth are, or how the edges of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

Annie looks at her calculus book and sure enough there’s the corner of a folded-up note tucked into the pages. When she looks up again, Marcel’s already walking away. Still, something makes her stand up and call out his name.

“Marcel!” She winces when she realizes her voice is a little too loud.

He turns around, surprised that she’s called to him. A few other people in the class have turned to look too.

“Um.” She tugs at the sleeve of her cardigan awkwardly, trying hard not to fidget and ignoring the blush that’s rising in her cheeks. “I just wanted to say…thanks. For getting my textbook.”

Marcel looks puzzled for a second, but he bursts into a dazzling smile and it’s now that she understands why people refer to him as a prince. “You’re welcome, Annie.”

Pieck observes her friend as she sits back down again. “So,” Pieck says, clearly amused. “Do you still not like him? Because, if you ask me, it kind of looks like…”