"Hey Bails, wait up." I can hear my best friend calling. I can tell she wants to talk to me, and I stop and spin around.
"What?" I smile at her, though it is a little forced. I hope she doesn't notice.
"You ok? You seemed kinda weird in class today." She looks concerned.
"Yea, I'm fine. I'm just tired." What do you do when your best friend goes on and on about how much she hates your other best friend on your sleepover Saturday night? I wish I knew.
"Everyone in this school is tired." Lexi says, rolling her eyes and hooking her arm through mine. "C'mon, let's go eat lunch. I'm starved."
The day passes slowly. Mondays are the worst, and today is no exception. I have a science test on Friday, an English quiz in Wednesday, and a research paper due on Thursday. Feeling very overwhelmed, I head to PE. I'm doing dance this semester, which is one of my favorite things in the world, so I'm super happy I got on the team. Dance is hard, but I love it.
When I get home, I go straight to the beach. I live in California, in a beach house, which is awesome because the beach is my favorite place in the world. It's also a great place to hang out with friends. I usually do my homework on the beach, and I today I grab a snack, change into my bathing suit, and head down the steps. Feeling the soft sand in between my toes makes me happy, and I smile a real smile for the first time all day. I hear the familiar sound of Mom's car pulling up. 10 minutes later, I see her walking down the steps.
"Hi Sweetie. How was you day?"
"It was fine. I have a lot of work tonight though."
"That's too bad. Hey, a letter came for you. It's upstairs on the kitchen counter."
"People still right letters?" I say, but she knows I'm joking. I get up and jog to the kitchen. The letter doesn't have a return address. Isn't that like required if you send mail? Whatever, it doesn't matter. I head to my room, still looking at the letter. Once I am comfily on my bed, I open it.
Dear Bailey,
You probably don't remember me, but I remember you. I'm not trying to sound stalkerish or creepy, but I just wanted to let you know I'm okay, even if you don't know who I am. I can't tell you who I am in this letter, and I can't meet you. At least not yet. I really want to though. I will try to write to you as often as I can. I miss you Bailey.
Love,
Emma
PS please don't tell anyone about this letter. Not yet.
YOU ARE READING
Connecting the Dots
Teen FictionUnlike normal teenage girls, Bailey Crane doesn't remember the first four years of her life. She has always been told it is because she has a bad memory, but something has always seemed off. It's not until just before her fourteenth birthday, when...
