I wasn’t going to write back to you after what you said to me last time. I don’t like to use bad words, but I want you to know that you’re an asshole. I realized that you probably only said those nasty things to get out of having to write to me, so I decided that the best punishment is for me to just keep writing to you.
I feel like I should let you know that my parents are not brother and sister. I think it’s kind of weird that you even thought of that. You must have some pretty disgusting fantasies. I hope that you don’t have any brothers or sisters, but if you do, they probably wouldn’t want to touch you with a ten-foot pole. You have an ugly personality, and I bet you’re just as ugly on the outside too.
By the way, what’s the weather like in California this time of year?
Love,
Naomi
Dear Naomi,
I’m actually not ugly at all. All the girls in my class think I’m hot. My teacher caught two of the girls in my class passing notes to each other, and that’s what the note said. So, you’re wrong. Also, I don’t have any siblings. It’s really gross that you think I fantasize about brothers and sisters. Why did you even think about that? Is that what you fantasize about? Gross.
The weather is pretty nice this time of year. It’s almost eighty degrees today. I think I might go to the beach after school.
Love,
Luca
Dear Luca,
The girls in your class are wrong, because boys in fifth grade are not hot. When the girls in your class call you hot, they probably just mean that you’re skinny. My older cousin says that boys don’t get hot until high school. But, I guess, whatever helps you sleep at night.
I’m so jealous of your weather. It’s really cold and cloudy here. I wish I was lying on the beach right now. Are you really tanned? I wish I could get a tan.
Love,
Naomi
Dear Naomi,
Stop trying to make friends with me by talking about the weather and tanning. It’s not going to work. Also, you probably shouldn’t lay out on the beach, because someone might mistake you for a whale. Next thing you know, a whole crowd of people will be around you, trying to help push you back into the ocean.
I don’t care what your cousin says about boys. If she’s older than us, then of course she doesn’t think fifth-grade boys are hot. Besides, I’m not just skinny. I have abs.
Love,
Luca
By the time winter break started, I was one of the only kids in my class who was still consistently getting letters from my pen pal. Even Ben had grown bored with the letters. 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. It was like they had all forgotten that our pen pals still existed.
I tucked the envelope into my backpack to read later without an audience. When I wrote back, I changed the return address to my home address instead of the school. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was the only one still writing to my pen pal.
ChapterThree
NAMES ARE HARD
Naomi
“Ifeel like there’s more to the story,” Anne says. “It doesn’t just end with you saying mean things to each other in fifth grade.”
“There is more. A lot more. I told you it was a long story.”
“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.
