My mind replayed the events of the day as I got back on the bus. Somehow, I felt satisfied and at the least, content with what a day it had turned out to be. Annabelle and I hadn't been on each other's backs (at least the not whole while through) and in the end, she'd ended up asking for my number. Which...I hate to admit...excited me.
But I'd masked it with a pokerface as I'd scribbled my contact number onto a small paper and handed it to her. She was smiling, that beautiful smile that had drawn me in on that day. Of course, I distracted those thoughts, saying to her, "You'd better catch your bus."
We'd walked out together, side by side in a pleasent silence that floated in the air between us. She'd gotten on her bus first, and waved 'bye' at me. When I turned my back, I couldn't help but for a smile to play on my lips.
Now two girls had my number; strangely enough, the worry of the predicament I'd just placed myself into didn't strike me. Instead a childish glee spread through me.
I must be quite irresistible.
I grinned to myself the whole ride home, praises flooding through my mind. A year back, I would never have placed myself into the category of being a guy who girls would take interest in. But I'd scored two of 'em.
My house was unoccupied, and silent. With mom still at work, I had the whole place to myself. I decided to do my pending homework and term papers, keeping my phone near me. I waited for a message; from Poppy (whose number I had saved) or from Annabelle.
You're a two-timing prick!
A part of me poured insults down; the practical part that knew I was doing something very, very bad. But the playful side just wanted to have fun. But that wasn't the side that reacted to the message I got.
My phone vibrated on the surface and my hand immediately reached out for it.
You have one unread message from Poppy!
Excited, I clicked on the "Open". It read:
Hey Drew! It's Annabelle. This is my number so don't forget to add me!
I stared at it for a while...letting the message sink in. No longer did I feel mischievous. I felt utterly confused. How could Annabelle have sent a message from Poppy's phone?
For a while, I puzzled over it.
But then it came crashing down on me.
Annabelle was Poppy. Poppy was Annabelle.
They were both one and the same.