F.U

Prologue

Chaeyoung

THE FIRST LETTER I ever wrote was addressed to a boy in my first - grade class. His name was Koo Junhoe, and even at six years old, my crush on him (and his light blue overalls) was overwhelming. My words were written in bright green crayon as a simple, "Do you like me? Circle yes or no."

That asshole circled no.

The second letter I wrote was to a girl in my library class. Her name was Ashley Choi, and I desperately wanted to be her best friend. I wrote a full three lines telling her all the things we had in common — all the things that would make us the perfect set of friends. (Pink jelly sandals, a Barbie Dream House, and a collection of bright Beanie Babies.) My words were written on notebook paper, with a final question that read, "Will you please be my best friend? Circle yes or yes."

She didn't circle either one.

She created her own option: NO.

I made it through first and second grade with a broken heart and zero friends, so I kept the rest of my letters to myself.

Until I met the girl who lived on my brand - new street, the girl who became my first best friend.

For all of three seconds.

She was the worst person I'd ever met in my life, and the very moment she quoted some bullshit about "keeping [her] friends close and [her] enemies closer," all while throwing me off my bike and kicking me to the ground, I was convinced that the word "friend" would never be a part of my vocabulary. I thought I'd never find someone who loved letters as much as me.

That is, until she became the first person in my life to ever write me back.

Not just once.

Not just twice.

Always .

Even though we hated each other down to our marrow, and we could never get along for more than twenty minutes at a time, we always wrote back...

Jennie (7 ½ years old)

I COULD'VE SWORN THAT my new neighbor was supposed to be a boy...

That's what my parents told me when the house down the street from us finally sold. They said, "Oh, they seem like such a nice family! They even have a son for you to meet. How nice will that be?"

It would've been very nice because every family on our street was full of stupid girls. Not a single one of those girls liked me, and I didn't like any of them either.

So, when my mom came into my room today and told me to get dressed to meet the neighbors, I was shocked when she took my action figures and returned them to my nightstand.

"I don't think so," she said. "Chaeyoung probably won't want to see those."

"Chaeyoung? Who is Chaeyoung?" I asked.

"Your new neighbor down the street." She smiled so easily, as if those five words didn't ruin any hopes I had of finally having a friend in this neighborhood. It was bad enough that we lived in the suburbs, and it took half an hour to get to anywhere decent like the movies or the skate park. But now, the last house on our block housed the worst thing on the planet. A girl. Again.

Groaning, I slipped headphones and a CD player into my backpack — ready to tune out everything as soon as my parents talked about the boring stuff. I made my way downstairs and grabbed my mom's usual "Meet the New Neighbors" cake off the counter. I followed her and my mama out the front door and down the sidewalk — rolling my eyes at the Hirai twins who were playing in their front yard.