Page 23
Story: Trusting Skulls
“That’s the beauty of it.”
I ignore his compliment, even though it makes my heart flutter. “Thank you for the packages. I haven’t opened them all yet.”
“Why didn’t you open them when they arrived?”
The fire crackles, and I realize it might be getting cold outside. I don’t want them to have to wait outside for too much longer. “I don’t really know how to do this, Ash. I’m not used to getting gifts.”
“I understand. I’m glad you finally decided to open them.”
“The club insisted.” I laugh. “Um, I should probably go. I just wanted to tell you about the letter.”
“Just one, huh?”
“For now.”
“That’s enough.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
I let out a little giggle, feeling some strange sort of way. “I guess I’ll talk to you whenever the club decides it’s okay,” I tell him.
He laughs too, but his sounds a little more defiant. “I’ll be seeing you, Lexie.” The call disconnects.
I sit with the phone to my ear for a good five minutes before I lower it.
Jumping from my seat, I rush toward the door. “Hey, I’m sorry. We’re done.”
Jesse takes her phone from my hand. “That was quick.”
“Not quick enough,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I think I’ll head to bed.”
They don’t argue.
My heart beats wildly as I stare at the ceiling. I try to focus on the chatter between the small group of friends downstairs, but my mind is scrambling to remember what I wrote in that first letter. It seems so long ago.
Oh my god. Why did I agree to this?
Chapter Nine
Ash
When I open the letter, I catch the scent of her strawberry perfume. I bring it to my nose, inhaling dramatically.
I don’t know what made her change her mind. It doesn’t really matter. What’s important is that I’m about to get a peek inside her head.
Her handwriting is like an art form in and of itself. The flowing letters paint the page with such grace and beauty that I can hardly believe it’s all for me.
Dear Ash,
I used to write letters to my parents telling them about my days. I filled several pages, letting them know about my schoolwork, the activities I was involved in, and how the braces they paid so much for were slowly straightening my teeth.
What I didn’t tell them was how I sat by a tree for hours, longing for the little blue bird who flitted there to land on me.
I didn’t tell them about the woman at the donut shop, the one who always remembered my name, and how she quit without saying goodbye.
Or how I long for the sun to go down at night … just so I can breathe.
Table of Contents
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- Page 23 (Reading here)
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