Page 132 of Okay, Cupid

“Hey!” The voice surprises me, and for a moment I think it can’t possibly be for me. I mean, there are a few people nearby; maybe it’s the disc golf people shouting a warning.

But no, it’s not.

It’s the cute boy. He’s standing up, his hands awkward at his sides as he walks up to me.

“Hey, sorry … I, uh, didn’t mean to shout.” He rubs the back of his neck. He’s even cuter up close. His nose sharp and angular, lips full. The haircut could use a little time to grow out, but it’s not bad.

“You’re fine,” I tell him.

“I was just wondering … are you here because of a letter?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah. I got one like an hour ago. It told me to come here.”

“And you didn’t write it?”

“No. Did you write mine?”

I shake my head as well.

“Well, that’s …”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.” He smiles softly, and it’s almost like he glows. This is the kind of boy that breaks hearts, I’ve seen enough rom-coms to be able to tell. “Sorry, I just … I feel like I know you? What school do you go to?”

“I’m homeschooled,” I tell him. “But I, uh … I’m leaving, today actually. Moving.”

“Where to?”

“Seattle.”

“Yeesh … that’s far.”

“Yeah.” I step forward, and he follows my stride. “My sister got a new job.”

“Dang, that sucks.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to it.”

“You’ve lived in the Bay for a while?”

“My whole life. You?”

“A long time now, but I’m from Atlanta. And Vietnam a bit before that.”

“International boy.”

“Right, yeah.” He laughs awkwardly. “So I guess we’re never going to know who sent these letters?”

“I guess we can only hope it’s not someone who wants to wear our skin.”

“Well, not if we solve the case first. I think we should start by analyzing the handwriting on the letters. That’ll give us our first clue.”

“We could, but I threw mine away.”

“Damn, same.”