See You Again

XVI

McKenzie,

I really am writing you a letter, no matter how cringe you think that is. I wanted to talk to you, but I realised I don't have your phone number and neither could I find your Instagram, though I searched for a long time, so Peter told me I should write a letter.

You're going to mock me, but I miss you. I miss our long nights up watching films and just chatting. I miss your ridiculous comments, your complaining and mockery.

I don't even know why am I writing this to you... I hope I'll see you again soon, not that soon so you can mock me for this, but as soon as you forget, because I realised I really enjoy being with you. Even if I hadn't noticed it, the way you grew on me, but I guess we don't see how much we care for someone until we see ourselves without them... I bet you're laughing right now, but I hope you feel the same way, even if you refuse to admit it.

I hope when we see each other again, things can be different. We could go out somewhere. I don't know the village that well, but you grew up there so you could show me around, maybe... You probably prefer to be with Leah and Vanessa, but at least we could keep on with our nights... Whatever you decide.

Life here is the same as always. Nothing mildly interesting has happened lately, except if you count the discussion Vanessa is having with this girl from our school, Prya, but I guess she already told you about that. I'm getting caught up in the middle since Prya is now always getting on my way when Vanessa is close. I swear I don't understand why do I get caught up in these arguments.

Anyway, I really should get your phone number so we can talk, I enjoy talking to you, your vague answers to real problems and being so chill about everything... though I'm okay if we don't mention Vanessa in any of those conversations, it always ruins the mood. I'll even buy you After Eights.

🧡🧡🧡

I crumbled the paper in my hand and tossed it to the side, hugging my knees.

Am I stupid? I can't send her that! She'll laugh at my face. Besides, I don't know her address either. Perhaps it is a good thing that Peter didn't give me her number. I would probably mess up badly.

I couldn't sleep, so I sat down watching a film. Three times I turned to tell her something, in all three I faced emptiness. I was really mad at myself. I've been home for months now and I still expect to see her at night.

Maybe it's the anticipation, knowing that summer is getting closer and closer and I'll see her again hopefully.

I had spent two hours choosing the right words to write, rewriting a thousand versions of the same letter, my dyslexic ass not helping at all. Paper balls crumbled all around the floor, and I looked silently at the last attempt, neatly written in black ink with my best handwriting. I folded it in two and placed it inside one of my notebooks.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. It was so late but it felt so early... I wanted to force myself to go to bed, to sleep the remaining hours until I had to be up, but I was also very tempted into pulling an all-nighter. The sun is almost rising.

I always felt so alive at night... It sucked to not be able to sleep when I wanted to, but there was some kind of peace, of comfort, on being the only person awake. I felt as if I had twice the time everyone else did, but I didn't know what to do with that time.

I had already finished all series I was watching and didn't feel like starting another, nor were my friends awake to entertain me. I didn't dare practice on my guitar with the sepulchral silence in the house.

Analysing my options, I went to bed, having nothing else better to do.

🧡🧡🧡

I was rudely awoken by someone poking my face.

"I think he is dead," Walt diagnosed.

"I'm pretty sure he is asleep," Sadie replied. "But do yell if you see his soul leaving the body."

She left the room, and Walt turned back to me as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Why do they wake me up when I'm actually sleeping?

"Good morning, Will," he smiled.

I grunted in response before falling back down and turning my back to him, covering my head with the duvet.

"That's vulgar. Treat better your visits."

"Go away," I grumbled back.

Suddenly, I was robbed of the warmth and comfort of my covers and attacked by chilling air poking my skin like tiny little needles.

Someone is going to die.

"Walter," I said externally, looking at him dead in the eye, "Run."

He parted his lips in shock and then turned on his heel and raced out of the room. As soon as he left, I grabbed the covers and pushed them back on me, trying to shield myself from the sun that trespassed the windows. Why did he have to open the curtains?

I buried my head in my pillow and wished to fall asleep again, but that opportunity was long gone. Not like Walter. No, he was peaking through the door.

"If you're expecting me to murder you, I advise you to wait downstairs. I'm not feeling like going to jail right now," I said without opening my eyes.

"You're being mean. I was going to invite you to play a little basketball with me and Ezra."

I sighed. I would not sleep, was I?

I got up and walked to the window, opening further the curtains and looking outside. Sadie was playing fetch with Sky in the garden and mum was sitting at the balcony table reading a magazine.

"What time is it?" I asked, feeling starving.

"Nine... Are you going to put some clothes on?" he complained as I stalked past him. "You're a terrible host. You shouldn't greet people like that."

"Host? You're literally invading my house," I shot back, but he threw the nearest hoodie at me and I rolled my eyes before sliding it on. "Is Ezra breaking into my fridge?"

He confirmed as he followed me downstairs to the kitchen. I found Maria setting several dishes in front of my friend.

"Good morning, Maria," I greeted. "Stop feeding that bottomless worm, please. He ate before coming here."

"What! Will, I need substance! I can't play on my best if my stomach is empty!"

"Sad, ain't it? " I sat on the table and stole one of the triangle-shaped sandwiches in front of him and took a bite, ignoring his complaints.

"Coffee?" Maria offered me, already knowing the answer.

Walter took a place beside me and got his own mug full of coffee. Sometimes I wonder if they only come here because Maria doesn't stop them from taking half of the fridge contents with them.

"Is Peter coming?" I asked between bites.

Ezra shrugged and answered, mouth full, "He's held up with work for his father. So is Vanessa apparently."

I sighed. When were they not?

When we were kids, Vanessa used to spend all days here, asking me to play for her. Even if I had trouble playing a certain tune, she would wait hours and hours until I could pull it off. Now I only see her at school. 

"So, are we going to play?"

🧡🧡🧡

Got bored writing this so I guess you are too.

Rewrote it a thousand times but it still sounds boring.

Makes me sad...