Chapter Eight December 17
Chapter Eight
“I’m thinking of giving John a letter I wrote,” I say to Andie, seated at the kitchen island. My parents are at a Christmas party at the church hall. It’s nice to be able to roam around the house without them poking their noses into our business.
“No, Lennon. Don’t do that,” Andie says as she closes the fridge. She passes me a can of pop and opens hers.
“Why not?”
“Because he won’t get it. Trust me.”
“What if I said it wasn’t for him, but for me, to gain closure?”
“You’re in your feelings because you just had a birthday and next week is Christmas, then New Year’s. You’re reflecting on the last year, and I get it, but John is better left in the past.”
“I wish it were that easy,” I say, opening my can of pop but not taking a sip. I get up to get a glass and fill it with ice. Andie sits in my spot.
“Is the letter in here?” she asks, glancing at my notebook.
“The page with the bookmark.”
“Let me see what you’ve written.”
I freeze by the cupboard and watch as Andie’s eyes move through the three-page letter I’ve drafted. “Well?” I’m grasping the glass so tightly I’m afraid it might shatter.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, looking up at me, a slight frown painting her otherwise perfect face.
“But?”
“It’s too much, Lennon. You spend an entire page comparing your relationship with him to an overused Rubik’s Cube. He’s not going to get that, sweetie,” she says. “You’re giving him far too much credit. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Who doesn’t deserve what?” Georgie asks, carrying multiple empty cups and plates from her bedroom. She has the most adorable bump now, small and perfectly round. She’s decided not to return to in-person school for her final year, and I hate that for her.
Georgie unloads her dishes into the sink, and Andie looks to me for permission to answer her question.
I nod.
“Lennon wants to send a letter to a boy she had a situationship with.”
“Not even that,” I admit.
“What kind of letter?” Georgie asks, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.
“It just lays out my feelings and how I possibly read more into his actions than I should have. And how I think there is a connection between us, and how maybe we could try being friends again. I apologize for ignoring him after the band practice and for allowing myself to get upset, given that he’d been really clear with me about his girlfriend.
I note how I did not respect those boundaries, and if we were to try being friends again, I would. ”
“And you also write ‘I couldn’t seem to help myself from forming a deep attachment to the idea of you. You, who suddenly became the boy in my story.’ ”
“That’s really beautiful,” Georgie says. “But you most definitely cannot give him this letter.”
“Why not?” I ask again, putting my glass down on the island, looking from Andie to Georgie and back again.
“I’ll take this,” Georgie says to Andie.
She peels herself off the counter and stands across from me.
She’s four inches shorter than I am but her presence has always felt much larger.
“I’m glad you wrote the letter. It’s a healthy way for you to process your emotions.
That being said, it’s too vulnerable to share with someone who you can’t trust with your heart.
If he has a girlfriend, it’s also not appropriate for you to give this to him. Do you understand that?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “But I don’t say I like him now.”
“Just because you don’t come out and say you still like him in the letter, it’s clear, babe,” Andie says. “And as dense as most boys are, even they’d be able to see that.”
“So, what?” I ask with a shrug. “I just do nothing? Wait for time to erase all memories of him?”
“No. You move forward. You talk to new people. You go out, have fun. Be fourteen. It doesn’t have to be so serious,” Georgie says.
“What if I don’t want to meet new people? What if I want it to be him?”
“Does he want it to be you?” Georgie asks, her eyes searching mine.
“I don’t know. Maybe if he reads this letter he’ll change his mind.”
“He won’t, Lennon,” Georgie says. “Words are not going to sway him. He’s got a girlfriend. You have to respect that. Even if you truly believe he’s your meant-to-be, then it will happen when it’s supposed to. Until then, you need to give him space and live your life.”
“Come on,” Andie says, taking my hand. “Let’s watch a sappy romance and cry our eyes out. It will make you feel better.”
“Yes!” Georgie says. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good cry. Well, over someone else’s poor life decisions.”
I agree, because what else am I supposed to do? They think it’s so easy. That I can just flip a switch and forget about John. But they weren’t there. They don’t know. They couldn’t possibly understand how I feel when I’m around him. You can’t just give up on something like that.
“Lennon?”
“Yeah?” I say, shaking away my thoughts.
“Where does Mom keep the microwave popcorn?” Georgie asks.
“In the pantry, next to the chips.”
I walk to the kitchen island and flip open my journal to a new page.
It wasn’t in my head. It was in my heart, but it wasn’t in my head.