Then we woke up and stumbled down their stairs like zombies, pouring cereal in a bowl and groggily letting the milk spill onto it. “Um, should I go bury you girls again?” Jack asked as he hesitantly came into the kitchen.

I glanced over to Marge, who had her face in her bowl of cereal in front of her. “Please do,” I replied, and he chuckled. After Marge woke up again we headed upstairs and got ready, then raced out the door with Jack twenty minutes later.

“So, you and I are writing our last letters, and letter seven will be a reply as well as an identity reveal.” Marge said, seeming as shaky as I felt. “Great,” I replied flatly. “Totally,” Jack agreed, a grim look on his face.

I looked at him for a few seconds, really studying him. His nice cheek bones, not-too-tan skin, deep blue eyes, hair that a surfer would be jealous of. I could definitely see why he was so popular. I realized I was staring when he caught my gaze, and I looked at the sidewalk, feeling the heat rise onto my face.

Then we arrived at school, and Marge and I headed to our locker, saying bye to Jack. “You okay?” She asked once we were out of earshot. “Yeah. Why?” I replied, wondering why she asked.

“Well, you were staring at jack for a good few minutes,” she said, and I could tell that she was trying to be casual about it but failing. “Look, you know your brother’s cute. But I was just tired, and I didn’t realize I was looking at him for so long. It honestly felt like a few seconds,” I said, also trying to play it off with a shrug.

It wasn’t technically a lie. It did feel like a few seconds. “Yes, he is cute. And he knows it.” She replied with an eye roll, and I laughed as I grabbed my books. She slammed the locker shut, and the bell rang as we started to walk to class.

That afternoon in Language Arts class, I felt unusually nervous. This was always my best class. Now it was my most favorite ever and one I dreaded all at the same time. Isn’t that weird?

“Hey class! So half will be reading letter six...” she started as she glanced at the lesson plan on her desk. A mischievous grin spreading across her young-looking face.

“We will be revealing our identities next week. Those of you who wrote the first letter will be telling the other who you are in the letter. You still won’t know yours yet, and the person that wrote the second letter will tell you face-to-face however they’d like.” She explained. My stomach dropped.

Everyone nodded, and I was thankful that I could tell them in a letter. Mrs. L passed out letter six and I began to read, feeling elated yet terrified.

To Anonymous #1,

Thanks, I appreciate the advice. You’ve gone through things like this, too? How was it, and how did you deal with it? I’ll admit it, I’m having some troubles with coping right now.

Sorry to hear about your best friend. I hope you two have made up. If you haven’t, I also wish I could be with you right now. then we could both wallow in our misery together.

That’s really cool about the whole novel thing! I think you’d make a fantastic writer. And you’re right, my dreams are much more exciting. Yes, comics. I’ve loved them since I was a kid. But secretly, I do enjoy my sister telling me about the love books. I didn’t say that,

Anonymous #2

This letter made me confused, unlike how it normally made me feel happy and blushing. We were dismissed, and the whole walk home was a blur of a few comments in conversations. Then I sat down with Marge in her room and we chatted.

“So how was your letter?” She asked. “Good. I still have no idea who my pen pal could be.” I said, flopping back onto her bed. “Me neither.” She said, flopping next to me.

“Jack talks about you sometimes.” Marge blurted, looking into my eyes, seeming uncertain on how I’d answer. My brow wrinkled. “Why would I care?” I wondered aloud, although it did send tingles up my spine for some reason.

She shrugged. “Just thought you’d like to know.” She sat up and went to her backpack in the corner of the room, digging out homework. I did the same and that’s how we spent the rest of the night, talking and working at the same time.

This search seems never-ending, and yet the end is coming soon. I had to know this was coming; People say all good things come to an end.