Love and Kisses

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

LIVVY

Sitting on my couch, I stared at the paper I’d picked up from my professor’s desk this morning. Across the top was the name SSG Byron Johnson followed by a military address. Apparently, he was a deployed Staff Sergeant overseeing troops somewhere abroad. He was twenty-six and had been in the Army for eight years.

And I had to write to him as part of a military pen pal program— had to because it was part of my university English class’ requirements. Students were asked to write letters and turn them in sealed for credit or no credit. An easy grade and I’d only need to write three letters over the course of the semester. From what I understood, my professor did this every term, because she felt letter writing was a dying art and wanted to ensure her students experienced letter writing that wasn’t for business purposes.

I had composed a note or two, so I knew how to do chatty correspondence.

Pulling out a piece of paper, I got ready to do this. I stared at the white sheet, pen poised. Words disappeared from my head. What to say?

Setting it aside, I got up and walked into my kitchen. There weren’t a lot of places to go in my small space. A living room with the sleeper that turned into my bed, the bathroom, my kitchen… Thankfully, I did have a nice closet for my things, but it was a tiny studio. I had no complaints though. I didn’t have to share with anyone and since I’d grown up in a household with eight other kids, the privacy was golden.

Grabbing a cookie, I looked out the window over my kitchen sink. That was another awesome thing. My rental, which was over the garage of a local couple, had plenty of sunlight. I’d opted for it rather than something in a complex for that very reason. Plus, I had everything I needed here.

Also, my landlords lowkey looked out for me, which was something my parents liked. He was a cop and they were older with their kids grown. They’d rented to college students for years, and they knew how to “be there” without infringing on privacy or acting like surrogate parents. It just made me feel safe.

The two of them were out in the backyard now, cuddled together in their swing. Though it was winter, living in Florida gave us temperate weather that I appreciated. Apparently, they were taking advantage of it, too.

I turned away and headed back to my homework before they saw me up here watching and thought I was being a creeper. The two of them, though… That was the sort of relationship I wanted for myself someday. I just didn’t see it happening. I was shy, single, self-conscious, short and curvy… That whole combo left me pretty sure I’d be a spinster teacher.

Not getting my letter written…

Well, Byron was about to experience Chatty Livvy.

Grabbing my paper again, I curled into the corner of my couch and decided to just say whatever to him. If I didn’t like it, then I could always throw it away and write something else.

Deep breath.

Dear Byron—or should I call you Staff Sergeant?

I’m not very sure how the address should go. Let me know. Anyway, my name is Olivia Olsen but everyone calls me Livvy (my preferred address). I’m twenty-two and a senior at Oceanside University in Florida. I’ve been assigned your name as part of a letter-writing assignment from my Language and Rhetoric class, and I’m pretty sure this work has nothing to do with that, but here we are.

To tell the truth, I don’t really know what to say in this letter, so I’ll tell you about myself and ask you some questions for when you write back. If you decide to write back. It’s fine if you don’t. I know you’re busy defending the country and you don’t know me.

And seriously, thank you for your service. I think people just say that sometimes because they feel like they have to, but I really mean it. You’re doing something important that I know I could never do. I mean, I would be a drill sergeant’s nightmare or maybe their dream come true, I don’t know. I can’t run worth anything, I don’t have much of a filter and I’m short with way too many curves for a uniform. I can’t even. And would they make me cut my hair? I have long hair and I would not look good with a crazy Britney cut, you know.

See this is me. I go off on tangents. Why did I think an English degree would be a good idea? I’m actually studying to be an ESL teacher—English as a Second Language. You probably know what that means, but just in case, I figured I’d spell it out. I think a lot of kids slip through the cracks because of language barriers and I have a passion to help with that. Does that make me weird or idealistic to have a “passion?” My brother tells me I am weird to say that. What does he know, though? I’ll tell you a secret. He has a passion, too—for keeping his boyfriend a secret. We all know, but we’re waiting for him to just tell us. And by us, I mean his eight siblings. Yes, I said eight. My parents don’t understand how birth control works.

TMI alert. Sorry about that.

This is why I probably have never had a boyfriend. No filter and being shy. Not a great combo, to tell the truth. Stupid stuff comes out of my mouth, I start blushing like a big old tomato then… Well, saying I escape sounds dramatic but basically, that’s what I do.

Other less embarrassing things I do: photography, cooking and baking. I love all three. Thankfully, my siblings are cookie monsters so I could bake and they’d eat them all up before I could get one. Now, they’re several hours away, so I don’t bake as much.

Gosh, so much about me. Can you tell me where you’re at, what it’s like there, and what you do? You probably can’t. I understand that, but I thought I’d ask. I am interested. Something you can answer (I hope), do you have a favorite food? A favorite movie? And why for both. I’ll tell you mine in the next letter. I’ll be writing you three regardless of whether you respond or not. Class requirement. If we hit it off, maybe more? Up to you. Oh, and don’t worry, the letters are sealed, and I don’t have to show my letters or your responses to anyone. You’ll just be writing to me.

I hope I hear back from you. Whether I do or not, I hope that you stay safe wherever you are in the world. Thank you again for your service.

Livvy Olsen

Well, that wasn’t so hard. I added my address to the bottom of the page for Byron, then sealed it in an envelope after I’d reread my spew of words. It wasn’t terrible, just chatty. Maybe, I shouldn’t have told him all that, but what did it matter? It wasn’t as if I’d ever meet the guy. And if I amused him a little bit while he was stuck across the world, away from home and probably in danger, all the better.