Hello, I Dislike You Intensely. Have a Nice Day.

Gah. I don't know. I really don't know. Could this all be a joke? Alex seems like the type of person to do that...or maybe not. I mean, he can be odd and irritating, but not cruel. Can he? I barely know him. Yesterday, all he was was the kid sitting in front of me in English. And now, it's like he's gained a whole new dimension. I can't think of him the same. I can't look at him the same. And I sure as hell won't be able to talk to him the same.

So the obvious question here would be...Do I feel the same about him as he does me?

I have no idea. I mean, besides the fact that he's annoying and slightly strange, I think he's a nice person. He has this...way about him. I don't know how to describe it. I just feel like he's...true somehow. To what? To himself? To life? He's...Alex.

I think in another life I could grow to like him. But what about in this one? I still don't know what I feel. All of a sudden, I'm so confused.

All of a sudden, the only thing I know is that I will not be leaving any more entries in the knotholes of trees. Or anywhere in that park. Or anywhere beyond these two paper covers.

--

I don't know why I keep coming back to this park, especially since a certain someone could be here again. Every time any teenage boy taller than me with long-ish, dark hair comes within a fifty-foot radius of me, I bolt. I peek around bends in the paths before I take them, I peer behind the trees and in their branches, I glance under the slides and jungle gyms. I feel like he's...everywhere. I'm a paranoid nutcase, and it's all his fault.

Well, fine, I guess part of it is my fault too, since I decided to go to this blasted park in the first place. But something just keeps drawing me back, and I have no idea what it is.

I'm sitting on this crumbling brick wall at the extreme east end of the park, right where it ends and a private residence begins. Everyone else is far away, as far away as I can get them without leaving the park. In front of me is a little dusty road, barely wide enough to park even a mini-car in, and beyond that, a line of tall, ominous trees advertising the end of public and the beginning of private-keep-out-or-we'll-fine-your-trespassing-ass. Really, it just gives me such a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. The leaves on the trees are dark and whenever the slightest wind blows, they all rustle madly amongst each other like a whole choir rummaging through their sheet music.

Wait a minute. Is that what I think it is?

It's a sheet of paper. Oh, my God.

Holy fuck. This cannot be possible. No way. What is the coincidence that Alex would find my entries, while I find his?

So in this wall, there's a bunch of places where the cement between the bricks has worn away and left gaps and niches. And I just happened to look down at the wall, and see what appeared to be a whole bunch of folded up pieces of paper slipped into the gaps. And I unfolded one of them, 'cos, duh, what else are you gonna do when you see all this paper hidden in a wall?

And these are his entries. Holy fuck. They really are. He says his name, and how old he is, and what he looks like, and bunch of the classes he's in. Honestly, what are the odds that another kid named Alex that happened to have the same age and looks and classes as the Alex I know, would have gotten an assignment where you had to write about yourself and post it in a public place? Yeah, like nil. It's got to be Alex. There's no one else.

Holy Jesus in suspenders and a toga.

Score.

I'm gonna go back around and find all of his replies to my entries too. Because, suddenly, I'm not afraid anymore.