“You’re such a freak, Claude,” Lydia says. “They aren’t even that bad. My parents would give you the twenty-questions treatment if they weren’t so busy with Matt. I swear, you’d think he could handle himself.”

“He’s six,” Claudia says. “Have a heart.”

That’s it. Ignoring it isn’t helping. I need them to fix this.

“Guys,” I say, voice cracking. “There was another note in my locker. I think Eric left it.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh my God. The asshole from Drama?”

Both of their voices screech through the phone at once. It’s on speaker, but I still have to push it away. The knots in my stomach unravel a little bit now that it’s out in the open.

“Did you tell your parents?” Lydia asks. “If you know who did it, then maybe you should tell.”

“No way. They’ll flip the fuck out. I’m not telling them anything.”

“Who does this kid think he is?” Claudia snaps. “I’m telling you, some people think they can get away with the worst shit. If he hacked into your school records or something—”

“I seriously don’t know. Maybe he saw me at the hospital?” I say. I don’t think I’m going to cry, but I’m pissed. “I don’t think he could find it in my school records. He’d have to find my medical records.”

“But why?” Lydia asks. “Who has the time for that?”

“Maybe he’s trying to play a stupid prank?” Claudia suggests. “Boys get crazy when it comes to that shit.”

“It just doesn’t add up,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I know he doesn’t like me because I always have notes for him, but I don’t know. I can’t…I don’t know how he can hate me enough to do something like this.”

Sure, I’m definitely a pain in his ass, but why would Eric care so much about my relationship with Miles? He did seem, I don’t know, repulsed when he talked about us kissing earlier. I guess if he somehow found out I was positive, this could be his twisted idea of protecting Miles.

“I’ll kick his ass,” Claudia says. “Just give me his last name.”

“You can’t kill him, Claudia. I already told you that,” I say, pressing a hand against my forehead. “Just give me a second. I need to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?” she asks. “We know he’s a creep and you aren’t going to tell your parents. I’ll just wait outside the auditorium and beat him up.”

“I guess I could help,” Lydia says. “But I’m not good at fights. I’d be the first one to get hit.”