My phone buzzed on my end table, and I dropped my head into my hands. Josh had blown up my phone since I ran out of my parents’ house, but stopped about a half hour ago. Before I could help myself, I glanced at the screen.
JOSH:Look under your front door.
I groaned, but figured my Solo cup needed a refill anyway and trudged over to satisfy my misplaced curiosity. A white envelope peeked through under my door. It was the same kind of plain, no frills envelope Josh had mailed his letters in. Scott was right, those letters got more of a rise out of me than he ever did. Rage stirred in me once again, at how those letters were all Josh would give me of himself for all that time.
I ripped the letter open and plopped in a seat at my dining room table to read.
You’re the writer, not me, so this probably isn’t all that good . . . but here goes.
A boy meets a girl in kindergarten. She’s sweet and pretty and he wants to beat up anyone who makes her cry. And he does. She laughs and she gives him her lunch. They don’t know it yet, but they fall in love. For life.
The boy grows up, and he’s trouble. Scary trouble. But the girl doesn’t leave him. Even though she should. It’s because of her he’s not in jail or maybe even dead. One day, he has to leave her, and he hates it. He wants to tell her how much he loves her and to wait for him, but he can’t do that. The best thing he could do is tell her to forget him. But she doesn’t.
She writes him letters. Awesome, beautiful letters, and it’s like he never left her. He comes up with a plan to come back, but when he does, she isn’t alone. He’s devastated, but hopeful. They’re still in love, and it’s finally their time.
They both just need to take it.
I told you it sucked, but I think it gets the point across. I love you. I’m so sorry I never told you. Please forgive me.
It wasn’t until my tears dotted the paper that I realized I was crying. I did fall in love with Josh for life, but the more I thought about it, the more it pissed me off. I was right there—for years. Even though I loved Scott, it never compared to the way I loved Josh. No one would. I waited my entire fucking life for Josh to say he loved me back, and now that he was, resentment simmered in my gut at his timing.
I opened my door and found Josh camped out on my front stoop. His elbows rested on his knees as he swiveled his head to meet my gaze.
“Still mad at me, Cupcake?” He grimaced as he stood and traipsed toward my door.
I let out a frustrated sigh and held my door open. “You don’t want me to answer that. Just come in.”
“Okay, I’ll take that.” The twinkle in his green eyes made me want to kick him in his perfect teeth.
I locked the door behind him and moped to my kitchen table. I settled into one of my chairs and motioned to the seat next to me.
Josh sat down and scooted the chair closer.
“You didn’t like my story even a little?”
I shrugged and did my best not to look directly at him. He had a power over me, and I never hated it more than in that moment.
He nodded and slid a crumpled piece of notebook paper across the table. I met his tentative gaze as I took it and unfolded the warn out edges. I recognized my teenage handwriting, and my heart fell to the pit of my stomach when I read the first line. How did he . . . Where did he find this?
“The poetry notebook that you kept,” he answered as if he was reading my thoughts. “One day at your house I flipped through it, and when I saw this, I tore it out and put it in my pocket. It’s been in my wallet ever since.
“Green eyes that pin me in place. Sadness only I can see on his face. Lips that I see in my dreams. My best friend that I adore. I wish we could be so much more.”
With each word he read aloud from memory, my shoulders slumped in embarrassment. My foray in poetry didn’t last very long and I never looked at that notebook again, why I didn’t realize someone swiped one of my poems—the one person I never wanted to read it.
“God . . .” My voice croaked. “That’s so awful. Why would you keep this?” After a few beats, another realization barreled over me. I shot up, my chair crashing to the kitchen tiles as I stalked to Josh, my hands shaking as I fisted the paper. “You knew! Youalways knew! And you never said a damn thing—”
Josh stood and put his finger over my lips. “Every day, I tried to tell you. And every day, I got confirmation from somewhere that you deserved better. The day I found this, I went home and tried to think up some grandiose speech to tell you I loved you, and our power was shut off. Another day I was at your house and found a hole in my jeans. And not the cool kind. And I knew it was a long fucking time before I could buy new clothes.” A humorless laugh rumbled from his chest.
“Because you didn’t have money you think I wouldn’t want you?” I threw the poem on the table and dropped my face to my hand. “Josh, that makes no sense. You never had to pretend with me.”
“I always held you back. You had to feed me in kindergarten, for Christ’s sake. That’s why it took me so long to write. I knew you’d come with me anywhere, and I loved you even more for it, but I couldn’t do that to you.”
Josh wrapped his arms around me and rested his forehead against mine. “Maybe I’m a little more selfish now. I still think I don’t deserve you, but I need you. We’ve loved each other since we were little. Maybe we didn’t say it, but we always knew. You’re my best friend and the love of my life. It’s time, Brianna. Why are we still fighting it?”
I pushed my hands into his chest, swallowing the sobs that wouldn’t stop coming.
“Why would you keep that stupid poem?”
