Love Letters

“Pen pals?” Trey scoffed as we walked home together. “I can see this going horribly wrong.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Drama,” he said. “You know what teenagers are like when they write letters and tell their deepest secrets. I know some of Mrs. Hull’s background; she worked at a University before and people are ten times more mature there than they are here.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” I said, shaking my head. “Chris told me that within the first week she was at her school, all it was, was drunk people and parties that raged on until like, three in the morning. If anything, people here are more mature.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, smiling. “My point is, our English class is just filled with people that thrive on drama and chances are, they’re going to find out who they are exchanging letters with and if it’s someone they don’t like . . .” He made a hand motion past his ear and yelled “whoosh!”. I laughed and shook my head.

“Maybe they’ll change,” I said. “Besides, they’re also telling their secrets, remember. So if they try and make a fool of their pen pal, they’ll just end up blackmailed because they’ve both got secret info. Know what I mean?”

Trey nodded. “Yeah, but all I’m saying is—”

“Look, this could go on for a really long time,” I said, giggling. “Might as well just end it here. I’m right and you’re wrong.”

He made a noise between a covered-up choke and a disbelieving jeer. “As if. You always think you’re right and ninety nine percent of the time, you’re the one who’s in the wrong.”

“I am not!” I argued, slapping him on the arm. “You can’t even back up your points! How do you consider that a win when you don’t even start an argument good enough to be classified as an argument?”

Trey paused and looked up like the answer was going to fall from the sky. “Okay, what?”

I growled. “Forget it,” I mumbled, looking at my feet now.

“Do you have any idea who your pen pal could be?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Too soon to tell,” I replied. “I know a little bit about him now, though.”

“Like what?”

I looked up at him and put a finger to my lips. “Privcy is the best policy,” I replied.

"Actually, it's 'honesty is the best policy'. Not privacy," he corrected.

"Psht, whatever," I said. "I bet you don’t want to tell me anything about yourpen pal.”

He grinned. “I already know who she is.”

My eyes widened. “Seriously? Who?”

He put a finger to his lips. “Privacy is the best policy,” he mocked, smirking as if he was pleased with my reaction and his ability to turn my own stupidity against me.

I glared at him. “Jackass.”

He laughed. “Relax. I’m sure Mrs. Hull will tell us who it is in the end just in case out assumptions are wrong or if we want them to be our friend not just on paper. I wonder if she organized it all according to gender. I think there’s an even number of boys and girls in our class. If that’s the case, then I think she’s trying to play matchmaker.”

I smiled. “So what if she is?”

He looked down at me and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You want Dalton to be your pen pal, don’t you?” I put my arms out.

“Is that so bad?”

“So you like the guy, huh?”

I shrugged. “Hardly know him,” I replied. “I can’t have feelings for someone I’ve only seen but never actually talked to.”

Trey nodded. “Fair enough. Andy told me you were aiming to get a boyfriend this year. Do you think that will actually happen or what? Because last year, you said the same thing and about halfway into the first semester, you told me ‘forget boys. I need to concentrate on my studies’.”

“I’m going through with it this time,” I said. “How are you and Ruby?”

“We’re good,” he answered, grinning. “I’m hanging out with her tomorrow.”

“Any sexual healing?”

“What? Oh!” Trey barked out a laugh and clapped his hands together. “No, there has been none of that yet.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yet?”

He smiled and it spread right up to his eyes. “Who knows? We could very well end up on my bed without any—”

“Okay! I get it,” I said, holding up a hand.

Trey started to hum the lyrics to Love Machine and did a little dance to go along with it. “You know, I’m not usually one to spread gossip but apparently Roxanne and Dalton broke up,” he said. “Now you’ve got your opening. What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “I think it would be interesting but I hardly know anything about him, except for what other people have told me. Besides, whenever I talk to hot guys, I become very aware of my tongue and ‘har-la-flar’ does not count as a good greeting.”

“You’ve actually said that to a guy?” Trey smirked.

“No, but I’m sure it could happen.”

“If you say so,” he sang, snickering. “I’d say you should just make the first move if you want a boyfriend that bad and if you like Dalton, than chances are, luck is on your side because now that he and Roxanne are over, he’s fair game. Go for it. Seduce the crap out of him if you have to.”

“I’d rather not,” I responded, laughing. “Thanks for the advice though.”

“Befriend him?” Trey suggested. “Trust me, if he doesn’t fall for you automatically, there’s got to be something wrong with him because any sane person would.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Does anyone know the answer to number seven?” my math teacher, Mr. Griffin asked, turning away from the board and looking at all of us. A girl in the corner of the room raised her hand and Mr. Griffin nodded at her.

“Annabelle,” he said, playing with the chalk in his hands.

“I uhm . . . I didn’t actually do the homework because I don’t get it,” she said, pulling on the bottom of her shirt. “Like, if it’s twenty seven outside of the brackets with negative x and a positive three, how are we supposed to get the answer?”

A few people around the room chuckled because it was a well-known fact that Annabelle was the stupidest girl in the class. I was curious how she got herself into a University level course when she couldn’t even do grade nine math questions.

Andy gave me a nudge. “It looks like I’m not the dumbest person in here anymore,” she whispered. I smiled and looked back up at Mr. Griffin as he explained how to get an answer for the question. I understood fully well why girls drooled over him; he was absolutely gorgeous. He had taught Christabelle before and she had told me that he was a great teacher and not too bad on the eyes either but I knew that he was going to be a distraction for me. His eyes were fascinating so if he looked directly at me, I would probably go into fever.

Mr. Griffin checked his watch and clapped his hands together. “All right, everybody. You can pack up now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said just before the bell rang. I gathered my things off my desk and headed for Mr. Griffin’s desk. I had to discuss with him if this was the right level of math for me because I had struggled in previous years but I wanted to stay in this one. It didn’t seem too far ahead of what I could do but if it was going to get really difficult, I was going to need a tutor or get switched to an easier course.

“Mr. Griffin, do you have a sec?” I asked. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his lap.

“Of course . . .” he began, looking at the seating arrangement. “Karlee.” He squinted at the sheet and then glanced up at me with an amused smile on his face. “Hawthorn. I taught your sister. She was certainly a, uhm . . .” He laughed. “A bright student.”

I froze. Oh God, Mr. Griffin.

“Oh,” I mumbled, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, she’s something.”

He smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I was in an academic class last year but I’m not sure if I’m up to University level standards,” I replied. “Does it get crazy hard from here on out?”

Mr. Griffin shrugged. “Well, it’s guaranteed to be no walk in the park but I’m sure you can handle it,” he replied. “If anything, I’ll talk to one of my students from last year and see if they can help you out. Is that all right?”

I nodded. “That’s great. Thank you,” I said, grinning. I headed for the door to go downstairs and eat lunch with Pax, Andy, Trey and Ruby but Mr. Griffin cleared his throat and stood up.

“How’s your sister doing?”

“Not too bad,” I replied. “She really likes it at McGill.”

“Can you give her a message for me?” he asked. I nodded. “Tell her not to seduce any of her professors.”

My face went red. “Will do.”

He laughed. “See you tomorrow, Karlee.”

“Bye, Mr. Griffin,” I replied, practically racing out of the room. I closed the door behind me and rubbed my forehead. He must think that the whole Hawthorn family is absolutely insane due to Christabelle’s past experiences with him and I didn’t want to give off that impression on the day that he found the similarities between me and my sister. I turned the corner to head downstairs but bashed into a really hard chest and stumbled back.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay,” the boy said, laughing. I looked up and immediately, I cursed myself for being so easily effected by even the tiniest comment coming from a hot boy. Dalton stood in front of me with his hands on my arms, his eyes burning into mine. “Hey, you’re Karlee right? You’re in my English class.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“What do you think of that pen pal project?” he asked. “A little far-fetched, eh?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think she picked the right audience for it but it would be a good idea if we were in University where she used to teach. It could get fun, though. And at least it gives us twenty minutes out of class every day to write something to them.”

Dalton nodded. “Touché. I don’t have you in any more of my classes, do I?”

I shook my head. “No, this is the only one.”

“Oh, okay. That's too bad. Well I’ll see you in English, Karlee,” he said, smiling at me and walking off. And just like that, I didn’t care if I had the worst day in the history of ever because nothing was going to bring me down now.