After school, I linger behind. Ever since I got my license last month, I have driven to and from school, so there’s no need to worry about missing the bus or getting my parents to pick me up.
After everyone else leaves the locker area, I open locker 99. There’s a response, once again, on lined paper.
R,
I know using email or some other online communication is the obvious choice, but I can’t. My mum is really strict and frequently checks my phone and laptop. I know it’s inconvenient, but I hope you understand.
Don’t worry. I’m not judging your email address. I actually like it — it’s got a lot of personality. The one and only email account I’ve ever made has the most boring name. It’[email protected]
Let me guess — you were obsessed with samurais and hedgehogs? I hope the hedgehog refers to actual hedgehogs and not Sonic.
Shy and self-conscious, you say? Well, if it makes you feel better, you didn’t seem that way at all when I met you. You seemed impossibly nice. And confident. Like when you asked me to sit next to you.
I’d wager a hundred dollars that my middle name is worse than yours. My mum was obsessed with a certain fictional character and wanted to honour him with my middle name. Iwill never traumatise my child like that. If I ever have a son, his middle name will be something normal like James or William.
And don’t worry. You’re not pressuring me to respond quickly. I enjoy talking to you and want to do it as much as possible.
-F
P.S.Mystranger, you say? I’m flattered by your use of the possessive pronoun.
I’m smiling like an idiot as I carefully hold the letter like it’s a valuable historical document. Then I read the postscript and blush. But he seems okay with it. More than that — he’sflirtingwith me.
I consider waiting to post a response tomorrow morning, but what if he arrives at school early and checks the locker, and it’s empty? I want him to respond as early as he can.
I walk over to a wooden table, which is one of many scattered around the school, take an exercise book and pencil case out of my schoolbag and write my response.
F’s handwriting slants forward and is slightly cursive. In contrast, my handwriting is usually a barely legible mess, but I take the time to make my writing neat and uniform. It’ll also act as another disguise. If, for any reason, F glances at my writing in class, I don’t want him to immediately identify me.
To F,
Using the locker is fine. To be honest, it’s nice to have physical letters from you. It’s kind of like we’re living in the olden days.
I’ve never heard of someone’s parents checking their devices, though. I guess it must happen, but not to anyone I know. That really sucks, though you’re probably used to it. I’d hate it, though. I’d rather toss my phone into a river rather than have my mum or dad look at my internet history. I don’t even let my friends go through my phone.
You’re right. When I was a kid, I was determined to be a samurai. Also, I like real hedgehogs, not Sonic, hahaha. I discovered videos of them on the internet and was devastated when I discovered I couldn’t have one as a pet. Victoria doesn’t allow any into the state because they’re considered a pest, which is frankly ridiculous. Goddamn you, biosecurity laws!
Just kidding. I understand why the laws are that way everything, but it really depressed me as a kid. My parents tried to cheer me up by saying I could have a guinea pig instead, but come on — a guinea pig can’t even compare to adorable spiky hedgehogs.
It’s nice of you to say I seemed confident, but I only asked you to sit next to me because your leg touched mine. I thought you were making a move. Or dropping hints, at least. Now I’m really worried that you weren’t, and I was forward for no reason.
I doubt your middle name is worse than mine. I might not be named after a book character, but I was named after my great grandfather, whose name sounds ancient.
-R
I gather my things back into my school bag, and on my way towards the student car park, I pass Locker 99 and slide the letter inside.
I arrive at school at 8:15 which is much earlier than usual. The locker area is empty, and I unlock Locker 99, feeling foolish because there’s no way I would’ve received a response already.
But, to my astonishment, I have.
I snatch up the letter and slide it into my school diary for safekeeping. About a third of my year level is already there when I head to the library to kill time before homeroom.
Ricky and Ethan are messing around in the non-fiction area, leaning against the shelves as they talk about the upcomingfootball season that begins in May. The pair of them are talking loudly — that’s their default volume, to the annoyance of the person browsing the shelves beside them, his head stuck in the finance section.
He pulls out a book and glares at us three, even though I just got here, then stalks off. It’s Jude, and I shouldn’t be surprised. Not many people at school glare at others as much as him. I expect everyone else in our year level has gotten used to our loudness, and as a result, don’t get annoyed by it anymore.
“Aaron!” Ricky greets, while Ethan slings an arm around my neck. “You’re going to play footy with us this season, right?”
