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My entry, this time in pink, is right below his. Obviously, I should’ve done a better job at hiding my gender, but whatever.

Dear You’re Not My Keeper,

I regret that nickname. I don’t need anyone to “keep me.” Ground rules sound smart. How about you leave the book for me before Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday? And I do the same for you and you can pick up on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday? Or is that too much? And no cheating or else this thing is over.

You can ask me basic questions about myself, but nothing too detailed because you’re a stranger. A strange…friend.

But I’ll save you the trouble. I’m female, not a cop, legal, and under twenty-five. My favorite food is lasagna—the more cheese, the better, with gorgonzola crumbles sprinkled on top. I tell people I like champagne, but really, my true love is honey lavender iced tea.

That’s all you get. I’m assuming you’re a guy. Are you a creepy dude? Don’t think I didn’t notice how you “forgot” to answer that question.

Thank you for your honesty. I knew there were other people out there who felt lost. But we just have to go for it. Try everything and leave no stone unturned.

Eventually, we’ll hit jackpot, right?

So, why are you feeling lost? You seem like you have your life together on paper—graduated and everything.

Alex

P.S. I’m going to mix this up. I’m hiding this journal in a different place, but will leave a clue in the original location and also write it in the journal for documentation. Let’s test fateagain. If youarethe one, you’ll find it again. So, here’s the clue. What’s the opposite of a public courtyard?

P.P.S. What would be a perfect day for you? And do you have a hunch how you’ll die? Toodles!

I snicker at his response on the next page. He obviously found my book.

A fellow reader as a friend.The idea is a warm hug, chasing away my confusing thoughts. I don’t have friends who love books as much as I do.

Dear Alex aka Dreamer (I think this fits you. You sound like your head is in the clouds most of the time—not judging),

Frances Hodgson Burnett’sThe Secret Garden. Really? That was your brilliant riddle, a classic that’s been made into movies multiple times over the years? I never back down from a challenge.

Fine. Quid pro quo. I’m a guy between the ages of twenty and thirty. Not a creep. Not a predator. Someone who’s trying to figure out where I fit in the world post MBA. Drink of choice is craft beer—Pintzer, to be specific. I’m a health nut, but give myself a free day each week to eat whatever I want. Usually, that involves a steak.

And I have a lot of thoughts about gorgonzola and lasagna—mainly in the vein of things I can’t say in polite company because moldy cheese doesnotbelong on—never mind.

To answer your question, this is going to sound ridiculous, but my path has been paved for me since I was born. I’m from a big family and everyone works in the family business, so I never really got a say in what I should do.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s safe. I’m set for life, provided I don’t screw things up and the plans they have for me sound interesting. But I can’t help but wonder if “sounds interesting”will cut it? Or will people just look at me and think I don’t deserve to be where I am?

Nepotism, you know?

Some days, I want to say fuck it and branch out on my own. But since I don’t know you and I’ll never meet you, I’ll let you in on a little secret.

I feel like a failure and I haven’t even started yet.

And to answer your other strange and random questions:

My perfect day is simple. Sit in a library or a bookstore and read. Maybe even do some writing. Then grab a beer with friends or my siblings and watch a movie or a game. That’s it. If I can get a Carlisle’s bone-in rib eye, medium rare, my life would be complete.

And death—are you a goth chick? Nothing wrong with that, I’m sure black nail polish works on you. To answer your question, I haven’t thought about it. I assume time is on my side, but I guess growing old, falling asleep next to my wife, then never waking up sounds as good as any? Why are you asking?

Happy hunting,

Your Keeper—you don’t get to assign me that role and take it away. I’m acing this position.

P.S. You want to play hide and seek? It’s a crazy and wild world out there. Same thing, I’ll leave this clue behind and hide the journal elsewhere.

P.P.S. The best and worst moment of your week so far. Go.