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Dear Naomi, I hope you get struck by lightning and die in the middle of your next weather report. Wouldn’t that be ironic? —L
His next letter was easier to understand. It was clear that he had taken his time, focusing on making his handwriting neater. That felt like a win,
I tried to sound disappointed, but I didn’t have to try very hard. I was surprised to find that I actually was a little disappointed. While we waited for the letters, I had found myself hoping that Naomi would send another snarky letter in response to mine, so that I could fire back with something even meaner.
When we all went back to school in January, there was only one letter waiting for our return. It was addressed to me. The entire class turned around to stare at me when Mrs. Martin announced that I had received a letter from my pen pal.
“Did you keep any of the letters?” I shrug. “I’m sure I have them somewhere.” This is a lie. I know exactly where all the letters are. They’re tucked away in a shoe box on the top shelf in my closet, organized chronologically. I even saved the unopened letters that were returned after Luca moved.
“Great,” he says. His gaze lowers to my empty cup. “Can I buy you another coffee?” This is already my third cup today, but I find myself saying, “Yeah, uh, sure,” and then cringe at myself because this is exactly how I answered his last question. I force myself to snap out of my stupor. “Actually, I was about to head out.” “I’ll get you a to-go cup then.” He turns around and heads back to the counter.
Interesting… he’s weird I wander if he’s her pen pale even though it makes no sense what if he was??
“I’ll walk you home,” he offers. I laugh, glancing up at our apartment building, which is right across the street. “What would you do if I said no?” He thinks about it. “Probably wait ten seconds and then follow you awkwardly.”
“What did you do last time you were trapped in here?” I think about it for a moment. “I spent the first ten minutes trying to get a signal on my phone. Then I banged my fists against the door screaming for help until my throat hurt. After a while I gave up on ever getting out of here, and I was trying to decide which of my limbs I would need to eat to survive when the fire department finally pried the doors open.” His brow is wrinkled with worry, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to laugh at my misery. “It was a dark time,” I add. “I barely made it
...more
I already know that it’s not going to work. I tried this last time. “Nope,” I say, taking my coffee back. “Guess I need to hit the gym more often.” “Nah. You don’t need the gym. Just do a hand-stand your whole way up the stairs every day. You’ll be strong enough in no time.” I almost snort out my coffee.
“Can I see your phone?” he asks. I pass it to him. “Why?” “So that I can give you my number.” He starts typing in his contact information. I look over his shoulder. He puts himself in as ‘Hot Neighbor’. I roll my eyes. “A little full of yourself, aren’t you?” He shrugs as he hands my phone back. “Just accepting the title I’ve been given.”
“What are you going to save my number as? Weird Elevator Girl?” He laughs. “Not a chance.” I look at his screen as he types ‘Cute Weathergirl’ to save my number in his contacts. I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips even as my face turns red. “Cute, huh?” I tease him.
I step out into the hallway. He places his hand on the door jamb to keep it from closing. “We should do this again sometime,” he says. I look back into the elevator and cringe. “Not a chance.” He pouts.
I sigh. None of this looks promising. Now I’m out twenty bucks, and my identity has probably been sold to the highest bidder.
After that, his letters had come from all over the country. He had moved frequently, but he always made sure I had his new address – until two years ago. I know it’s unlikely he’s gone back to live at any of these old addresses, but it’s a good place to start. Someone, somewhere, has to know where he is.
He’s a top secret agent who changes his name every time he moves yup your guys Jake mhm (I’m kidding)
“I was just curious if you tracked down your penemy.” “My what?”
When she did that, I always returned a letter that was equally or – I hoped – more boring. Dear Luca, I woke up this morning. I brushed my teeth. I went to school. I did homework. I went to bed. I ate meals in between. Xoxo, Naomi Dear Naomi, I forgot to put the toilet seat up when I peed, and a little bit splashed onto the seat. I didn’t clean it up. Xoxo, Luca
Dear Luca, I hope that you wake up tomorrow morning with a small hangnail, and when you pick at it, it just gets bigger and more painful. I hope that it bothers you so much that you just keep picking at it, but it doesn’t come off, and you end up pulling a really long sliver of skin off your finger. Then I hope it gets infected, and the only solution is to amputate your whole hand. That would really make my day. Love, Naomi
Ben stared at me, wide-eyed. A few other students had gathered around us, waiting to go inside the classroom. “You’re blocking the door,” I reminded him. He stepped into the room, and I followed him to our desks at the back of the class. “Why would she say that?” he asked once we were both sitting. “That’s…” He clutched his hand as if feeling a phantom hangnail after hearing me read Naomi’s letter. “That’s disturbing.”
I want you to know that if anyone ever did those things to me, it would be because he’s a shitty person and he doesn’t deserve me. Not the other way around. And if I saw someone treating one of my friends like that, I would kick him in the balls. Love, Naomi
I pick up the envelope, disappointed to see that he still hasn’t included a return address. I rip it open. Dear Naomi, I can just imagine how annoyed you are that you can’t write back to me.
I spent the last two years trying to get Luca out of my mind, and now he’s back, front and center.
Okay thought Jake is actually Luca but Luca is his actual name and Jake’s like his middle? Luca Jake Pichler, no? I think I’m right even the guy on the cover has dark hair come on. Plus he didn’t even start talking to her till now and idk it’s only been 3 months maybe he wa sbuilding up his courage… and he was staring at her phone when she searched up Lukas name. So idk mayyyybe.
(I think I’m right)
When I walk into my building, I spot Jake checking his mail. He looks over his shoulder when he hears the front door, then does a double-take when he sees me. His mouth widens into a grin, making my heart rate pick up. It’s been a long time since anyone has looked this happy to see me.
He’s wearing another T-shirt that hugs his biceps. I’ve never felt so jealous of a shirt.
“Ah. You’re one of those get-it-all-in-one-trip kind of people.” “I don’t trust anyone who isn’t.”
I’m too entertained by Anne’s inappropriate remark to realize that I’ve made it to the front of the line. I pass through the body scanner, then hold my breath when the TSA agent tells me to wait. I realize that all my fears are about to come true. Someone is going to pull me aside and arrest me or tell me that I need to—
She was fit, with toned legs, standing in the middle of a group of other girls. She stood out to me as the prettiest one. I felt my mouth drop open. I looked at the next photo, and kept clicking to see more. I wanted to see every photo she had ever taken.
HOW TO BECOME A STALKER
1. Save up all the letters they’ve sent you the past years
2. go through all the address
3. search them up on PeopleFinder and social media and anything you can find and hope their not one of the 98 year olds in a retirement home playing bingo
4. Then if none of that works go to their last known address and shout their name till they respond
cause that’s how it works
I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have a little crush on Luca at some point, but I would never admit that to Anne. His page was private, so all I could see was his profile picture where he stood with a group of other guys on a beach, all wearing sunglasses and crossing their arms over their chests like they thought they were hot shit. And they were – at least high-school-me thought they were hot – but that didn’t matter.
Husky Eyes: How’s San Diego? Better than Miami? Naomi: It’s beautiful here. I might never come back. Husky Eyes: You can’t make a big decision like that until after you’ve been on a date with me. Naomi: You must be really sure of yourself to think one date can make me rethink such a big decision. Husky Eyes: It won’t be just one date.
When I wasn’t at school or acting as chef or chauffeur for my mother, I sometimes found myself visiting Naomi’s Facebook page. I looked through all of the photos I had seen a hundred times before as well as
I felt a little jealous every time she posted a photo of her and some guy.
Naomi: You might have to come to San Diego to take me on that date. Husky Eyes: I can probably be convinced. Husky Eyes: You look beautiful.
I gesture to the front door. “Is running outside not enough?” “I knew it,” he says. “You did see me out there.” “You saw me in the car?” “I might have noticed you checking me out.”
he’s talking to Joel. He turns and smiles at me as I come out of the stairwell. His eyes wander down my body and back up again as I come near. I hold my breath, my heart racing. I don’t know why it feels so good to be looked at like that when a few minutes ago I was cursing his noisy existence. My mind must not be functioning properly. I blame all the sun I got yesterday.
A waitress greets us at the door. I notice that her eyes move over his body, a dazed smile on her face. I don’t blame her for checking him out. I look up at him to see his reaction, but his eyes are on me.
“Why do you spend all day in the water? Are you a water aerobics instructor, or are you just addicted to taking baths?” He snorts, then clasps his hand over his mouth to keep from spitting out his coffee.