Love Letters to the Lost: A Camp Cretaceous Story

Chapter Two: A Shadow

------------------------------------------

You know I really blame Sammy this. (this obsession I have with you now)

She gave me a copy of Peter Pan, that kids book

We all know by heart, even without having read it.

Well, turns out the book is not as childish as I assumed

And ever since that first image of a boy flying into a girl's life'

Standing beside her as they battle pirates

Pulling her out of monster-laden lagoons

Stealing her 'hidden kiss'

I can't help but think of you

With your rueful smile

Your sandy blond hair and eyes the color of rainclouds

------------------------------------------

GAH Did you really just write that? About Ben Pincus? Thank God he'll never read it

Your whole body cringes. What's wrong with you?

He's literally a child.

Well, at least, he was.

You hold the paper in your hands, tempted to rip in two, blot it with ink, or just chuck it in the trash. But you take a breath.

Your breathing calms.

You fold the thin paper, slide into an envelope, until it joins the ever-growing pile of unsent letters.

It's fine. He'll never know. No one will.

------------------------------------------

I even miss your carob juice

That shows you just how over the edge I am

------------------------------------------

Your therapist says you shouldn't worry. You're not writing to Ben Pincus, you're writing to yourself. Your mind is healing any way it can.

But you're not so sure.

"There is a real Ben."

"Of course there is"

"So why couldn't this be him?"

------------------------------------------

Are you alive out there?

I don't even know

You never post anything.

I respect that it's not your style

But it's been months... and

I want to know

------------------------------------------

You don't tell Sammy, but somehow she knows.

"Do you have a crush on Ben?"
The tea in your mouth spits out in a comical cascade. Something straight out of a gag reel.

"What? No way. Why would you say that?"

"Well I saw that stack of letters on your desk"

Kenji, the only other person in the room, is at full attention. "Stack of letters? How many?"

"Got to be at least 50," Sammy answers. "All addressed to Ben."

The grin on Kenji's face is downright wicked.

"I can explain." You say, your face beet red.

"Oh please go ahead." His arms are crossed in front of his body, his eyes playful in a way that smacks strongly of retribution. "Please share your explanation for why you would send 50 hand written letters to a guy you don't like."

"Come to think of it," Sammy says, crinkling her nose. "I don't remember ever getting a letter from you. And I'm your best friend."

"We see each other every other weekend!"

"But you rarely see Ben," Sammy supplies.

"And you clearly WANT to see him." Kenji delivers this with a very obvious upturn of an eyebrow.

"No, that's not it."

"Hmnnnnnn."