The Oak Tree

by Thekillerfangirl

The purple sticky note that had been at the top of the pile of clothes was now at the bottom of the bathroom floor, and Annabeth carefully picked it up and began to read the careful and neat handwriting. Dear grey-eyed girl, For when you stop crying (; - RA-RA P.S. Good luck getting that milkshake out of your hair.

Annabeth ran. She didn't have any change of clothes, but she honestly didn't care. All she cared about were the words that were said to her. The cruel, cold words said to her. She could feel the milkshake that had been poured onto her head dripping down her neck, and she could feel drops of rain. All she cared about, though, was getting to her spot. The oak tree. Across school campus, into the small woods, and to the giant oak tree. She didn't even notice the girl with dark hair and obsidian eyes sitting against the tree to her right until the girl moved, staring into her eyes, emotionless obsidian eyes to watery and red grey eyes. The exchange only lasted a second, before Annabeth went back to crying, not caring who saw her. She heard some shuffling, and something next to her, but she didn't bother to look up.

Annabeth finally stopped crying and looked around. It was drizzling, and there was a change of clothes next to her, with a sticky note on top of it. The clothes weren't hers, and the handwriting on the sticky note was definitely not hers, but nonetheless, she was thankful for them. She quickly picked the pile up, and trudged through the drizzle, hoping not to get the change of clothes wet.

She quickly slipped into the bathroom to change. The clothes that had been given to her were not the kind she usually wore, but instead skinny jeans and a short-sleeved purple t-shirt. When she changed into them, she was immediately uncomfortable from how they fit. The jeans showed off way too much, compared to her baggy jeans of the past, and the t-shirt, for one, was purple, instead of her ordinary dark shades, and two, showed her scars. Some, white and small, others, red, deep and as though they had been freshly cut. Annabeth immediately wished for her long sleeved t-shirt, but she was grateful for the change of clothes nonetheless.

The purple sticky note that had been at the top of the pile of clothes was now at the bottom of the bathroom floor, and Annabeth carefully picked it up and began to read the careful and neat handwriting.

Dear grey-eyed girl,

For when you stop crying (;

- RA-RA

P.S. Good luck getting that milkshake out of your hair.