It’s Friday afternoon, and Alex is disappointed that he only just barely gets to say goodbye to Emma before she disappears towards the parking lot. He thinks she’s between boyfriends right now, but it’s obvious from the way she just breezes past him with a wave and a quick “see you Monday” that she has another target in sight. It frustrates him that she never realizes how much her actions can hurt him, but at the same time he doesn’t want to say anything. He’s not even really sure why.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that things aren’t right between the two of them, and haven’t been for a while. Back when her brother was home, and she really needed him, they were inseparable. For two years they’d done everything together, even though their interests weren’t quite the same. He would go with her to the movies she wanted to see, just because she needed someone to go with, and she would play any game he suggested, always encouraging him, telling him that maybe this one would be the one he’d win. The summer before freshman year was when he’d finally realized how important she was, and how much of a crush he had on her. He even almost said something – because how was dating going to be any different than this? – but each time he tried to get serious, she interrupted him, or something came up, and finally he stopped trying.
Then, that fall, everything changed. Her brother moved out, and she quickly lost the habit of trying to make herself smaller, more unnoticeable. And suddenly it wasn’t just Alex noticing her. It was everyone. She was the center of attention and had more dates than she knew what to do with. At first, she stuck to Alex’s side, a little wary of high school boys because of the way her brother had always treated her, but eventually she decided she liked the attention. They still get together occasionally – he suggested meeting at Cuppa Joe’s before school to get breakfast once a week, and even though she pouted and complained about missing out on the pre-school social opportunities, she agreed fairly quickly – but it was never like it was before.
Alex sighs, shaking himself out of the memories. What used to be doesn’t matter. What matters is now. And she is still trying, he reminds himself, She’s the one who set you up with Sarah, remember? Even though it ended badly, that’s not her fault. The idea had been to set him up with one of her, well, friends was too strong of a word, so that they could double date and see each other more often. He’d liked Sarah well enough, and they’d dated for about a month before Sarah decided she’d liked someone else better. And decided to tell him about it by showing up to Cuppa Joe’s with her “new” boyfriend before officially breaking up with him. Really, it was his own fault for dating her when he knew he still had a crush on Emma, but still.
Alex shakes his head again. He’s putting himself in a bad mood by thinking about these things, but he can’t seem to stop thinking about them. He shoves a few textbooks in his bag and slams his locker door, determined to find something, anything else to occupy him. Falling back on a trick his therapist taught him (before he stopped going) he thinks through his afternoon in detail.
First, I am going to walk out to my car. Then I unlock the car. Then.. and so on. After a few moments of this, he gets to Oh wait! It’s been a few days. I wonder if Zoe left me a letter? I should check on my way home, that way I won’t have to make a special trip this weekend. This thought puts him in a slightly better mood. Even though she’s practically a stranger, she always seems to cheer him up with her silly comments. It amazes him that after barely a month of letters, he’s looking forward to her letters as much as he does. It’s nice to have someone that he can talk to, who doesn’t expect anything of him, other than just to write back.
Before he knows it, he’s arriving at Cuppa Joe’s. Rather than go home right away, he orders a cappuccino and Andi hands him a letter. He gives her a tight-lipped smile of appreciation and then goes to find a seat.
Zoe starts her letter more angry than he’s ever seen her. He understands parent drama – he has plenty of that himself – but she almost sounds like she’s angry at him. Which is completely not fair, and kind of hurts because he was trying to make her feel better (Since when did I care so much about how she feels?). He can’t remember exactly what he said, of course, but he can’t imagine anything that should have made her respond like this. Well, at least she wrote back, I guess, he thinks. But the first few paragraphs have put a sour taste in his mouth and brought back the bad mood that he thought he’d left at school by thinking about her letter. This letter.
But, she did write back, so he is determined to read what she wrote. The middle, at least, is more like her light nature – she teases him for being from her rival school and seems impressed that he was able to make Eddie work 4 am shifts. He smiles at that. Rachel is so desperate to not be the “evil step-mother” stereotype that if he asks for a favor, she’ll usually do it, though in this case he had to explain why. She got a bit of a funny look when he mentioned Zoe, but agreed to arrange for it. Eddie still glares at Alex when he comes in for his morning coffees.
And then she brings up Emma. Emma is already a kind of sore topic today, but Zoe’s observations just bring it all back up again. She starts with the contest, and while he understands that she’s trying to help, it sounds like she thinks he’s– he can’t even think of the word for it, but whatever it is, it’s terrible. And it’s frustrating to hear her say that this costume he had been working on for a very long time was never going to win, that it couldn’t have won.
As if that weren’t enough, she goes on to imagine that he is enough of a jackass to just assume that Emma would date him eventually if he stuck around long enough. He’d seen plenty of those slimeballs hanging around her for years, and he is not like any of them. Not only does he know that he will never be in a relationship with Emma, he also knows that it is 100% his fault – he is not good enough for her, could never be good enough for her, not least because ever since the summer before freshman year he’s been too cowardly to say something. And Zoe comparing him to the scum of the earth who think that they’re owed something like that is just rubbing his nose in it. Why would she even write to me if she thinks I’m like this?
She immediately goes back to lighter things, as if she hasn’t just decided that he’s the worst douchebag alive. Now the first few paragraphs make sense though – if she thinks that he’s like that then maybe she thinks he would automatically side with her fa- douche-weasel, which is completely not true, but… He wishes he had kept a copy of his letter so he could know how he might have given her that impression, besides the comments about Emma. And if she thinks he’s going to take a complete stranger’s side over hers, then what could he possibly say to prove that he’s not like that?
Fuming, he stuffs the letter back in its envelope, leaves his cold cappuccino sitting on the table, and goes to his car. He throws the letter on the back seat and pulls out. He doesn’t really want to go home, but at the same time he doesn’t want to deal with the people in Cuppa Joe’s either. Without even realizing it, he heads toward Carmel Creek Park.
He spends nearly an hour walking up and down the creek trying to clear his head. His instinct is to write back immediately, to ask her how she could possibly think that of him, and what the fuck she’s doing writing to him if she really thinks he could be that guy. He knows that he shouldn’t write her back while he’s angry, but thinking about it is only making it worse. Finally, he can’t stand it anymore. He returns to his car and digs in his backpack for a sheet of paper.
How DARE you?! he writes,
How dare you assume that I am anything like anyone in your life? How could you think I would be like that? I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you think so little of me, or why you would even write to me if you actually thought
He balls that sheet up, throws it in a nearby trash can, and finds another. This one starts out okay, until he gets to the part about Emma.
I can’t believe you think I could do something like that. I’m sorry about whatever assholes you have in your life, but you can’t just paint me with the same brush. If you’re determined to do so, you might as well just Fuck off
And this one follows the first. After five drafts, he gives up. It’s getting dark enough that he can’t even see what he’s writing, and he still can’t manage to write a response calm enough to give her. Defeated, he gets back in his car, and drives home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll figure out how to say what he wants.