“Hey. You scared me,” I replied, giving a small smile when she laughed. “So, I was thinking last night.” She continued. “That’s dangerous,” I replied with a smile. She rolled her eyes, but playfully.

“Anyways, I was thinking that one fight shouldn’t come between years of friendship. And I’m really sorry; I was an awful friend who should’ve been supportive. But I really don’t think Alex is your type,” she explained, looking at her shoes shamefully.

Then the question that I’ve been wondering this entire time came out. “Well who do you think is my type?” She looked me in the eyes and replied with, “You’re not going to like the answer, so let’s just forget about it and head to school.” I shrugged and we were off.

I was so relieved to see Marge at our regular table, and was even more happy to see her smile when she noticed me walk up. I was worried this morning was a dream, and we were still in our fight faze.

“Hey!” She said brightly. “Hi,” I replied as I sat down. I noticed Alex across the cafeteria, and he was looking my way with a smile. Marge noticed my gaze. “What’s with him?” She asked with a confused look. “Nothing,” I said with a shrug. But then I gasped.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” She asked. My face became a sheepish smile, and she looked scared. ‘What did you do?” She asked in a whisper. “Well... I might’ve told him there would be a date two to make you mad. Before we stopped fighting,” I explained quickly.

She shook her head. “You’re just gonna have to tell him that you’re not interested anymore.” She said casually. I hesitated, remembering it was also about seeing if he was my letter-writer. “Right?” She added, noting my hesitation.

I sighed. “I can’t. I was hoping I could also get more information on the pen pal thing.” I said guiltily. Marge sighed exasperatedly. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes and we went back to our lunch. I can’t believe I forgot all about the date!, I thought surprisingly.

“Okay everyone, I gave half of you your letter fives, and now you’ll be writing letter six and turning it in tomorrow. Soon we will uncover who is who’s pen pal. Understood?” Mrs. L announced.

My stomach dropped. We’d be telling the other person who we are? I swallowed and the class nodded. Let’s just say that I’m not the most popular person, and most kids wouldn’t exactly be happy to know it’s me.

“Good. Now half of you get out a pencil and paper and start writing!” She said excitedly. That’s why I loved Mrs. Lasagna; She was always happy and eager for something.

I got out a sheet of paper and doodled for the rest of class. Then it was time to go home, and I was the first one out the door. Then I waited for Marge, and it felt good and normal again. “Hey! We have to wait for the other one,” Marge said, meaning Jack.

A few minutes later he came out. “What took so long?” Marge asked, but didn’t give him time to answer as she turned and opened the school doors. Then we all linked arms, me in the middle like we used to, as we walked home. “You’re coming over.” She insisted as we neared the fire station.

“You’re exhausting,” I joked as I pulled out my phone and shot a text to my dad. “Well if you’re going on a date you need something nice.” She stated casually. I was about to protest, to ask what was wrong with my wardrobe, but Jack jumped in.

“You have a date?” He asked, his blue eyes staring into my brown ones with... Jealousy? “Why do you care?” Marge asked, then gasped and smiled as if this was the cutest thing ever. “You’re jealous because-“ He cut her off.

“Don’t, Marge. I’m happy for you, Liz.” He said as he turned away, seeming angry. “Gosh, so dramatic.” She said with an eye roll as we caught up to him.

The light breeze ruffled my flowing sleeves that stared small but widened and reminded me of a butterfly. Marge picked out a light pink, flowing, hippie-looking (but adorable) pink top with light blue jeans and light pink flats to match the shirt.

I felt confident in the outfit but nervous as heck to see if Alex really was the one that seemed to understand me so well. “Hey,” A voice said behind me. I felt like running, but I slowly turned and saw Alex. “Hey!” I chirped, then cringed mentally for sounding so eager when he sounded so smooth.

We were at the park, near where I was with Jack. I could see the tree where I fell. No. I will not think about him. He is my enemy... Right? “So, what’s new?” She said as he took a seat on a park bench. I sat next to him.

“Nothing much. But I was hoping I could find out more about you,” I replied with a light blush. He smiled. “Well, I have a brother, a stay-at-home mom, and a working dad.” He started. “Nice! Do your parents fight?” I asked, then face palmed in my head at how weird that sounded. “No. Why?” He asked, looking confused.

“Just wondering. Continue,” I shrugged, trying to play it off like it was a normal question. “Okay, well, my best friend would be Junior. We hang out a lot, and he was my first friend at this school.

“I’ve always wanted to visit a foreign country, and I love movies with drama. Kind of weird, I know. But my mom always has them on.” He finished. I sighed. He wasn’t the pen pal, and now I was committed to an evening with him. “Cool,” I said flatly.

Then we walked around the park, and it was mostly silent. A half hour later, I was walking home, feeling crushed and confused. He wasn’t the letter writer? I though he would be. But I guess I was just in mad crush with him. Now I realize we have pretty much nothing in common.

I wasn’t ready to walk home yet. I had to tell Marge. Their house came into view, and I jogged up to the door with an eager knock. A few seconds later the door opened to reveal Jack in his pajamas. I didn’t realize how late it was, and I guess it was eight o’clock on a school night.

“Oh, hey Liz. Marge will be down in a minute. Come in,” he motioned inside, like me appearing this late was normal. I just nodded and went inside, plopping down on their couch. Jack sat across from me and it was awkward silence for a minute.

“So, what are you doing here?” He asked, leaning forwards. “I just wanted to tell Marge how it went with Alex.” I replied coolly. “Right, Alex.” Jack said, and I saw his jaw clench. I was sick of wondering why he seemed jealous.

“Why do you always seem uncomfortable when I talk about Alex?” I asked him, a tint of annoyance in my voice. He shifted, and was about to speak.

“Liz! Come on upstairs,” Marge called from her room. I stood and didn’t say anything, just ran upstairs, leaving him and the awkwardness between us behind. “Your brother’s a weirdo.” I stated as I entered her pink-filled room. “What did he do?” She replied, sounding scolding.

I chuckled. “He’s all awkward when I talk about my love life.” I said. “Love life? So you and Alex are together?” She said, which I thought would be exciting to her, but she sounded disappointed. “Great, you too? Why are both of you acting so weird?” I asked, tired of this whole thing. She sighed.

“Sorry. I am excited. But I just...” she trailed off, looking at my annoyed face. “Never mind.” She finished. I scowled. “No, me and Alex are not together. He’s not the pen pal.” I said sadly. She looked sad for me and came over, giving me an “I’m sorry” hug.

I guess the search continues.