Frenemies

35

Grayson was kind enough to let me take the box of notes home. I smile widely and as soon as I get home, I shower quickly. Afterwards, I head to my bed and get in as I start to read the notes, giddy.

August 15, Three years ago
Dear Julie,
I just found out your name! It is a very pretty name for a pretty girl like you. I like you, that much is true. But you don't like me, that's also true. I saw you for the first time on Monday and it's now Friday and I have yet to take my eyes off you. I'm gathering my courage to tell you that I like you, maybe this can be a way.
Have a good day,
Grayson

The first note makes me smile harder than I had been. He liked me, and he was nervous. His handwriting is precisely written so I know he took his time writing the notes but the handwriting was dull as well. He was nervous to confess even on paper.

After the first note, I get too giddy and fly through the rest. For the next ten of them, they are light and consist of compliments. Then it gets darker, longer.

October 3, Three years ago
Dear Julie,
How does one cope? I've been asking myself this question for the past thirteen hours. My parents were here just yesterday, and today they are not. In the blink of an eye, they were gone. And I'm a mess.

I'm a fucking mess. I can't do this, I can't even think of a life where my parents aren't present. But I have to. My parents were alive for ten minutes after the car accident. But in the middle of holding hands with my baby brother, they left.

They left and I felt in my heart the second they did. There was a heavy pressure on my heart, it felt like someone had stolen it. Someone had: my parents. They stole my heart when they passed. Nathan wailed so loud and so fierce when they did leave. He turned around to m, his big wet eyes catching mine, and with my brain frozen, on pause, I reached for him.

Now, with him on my lap and my little sisters crawled on the floor holding each other, he still cries. He hadn't stopped crying ever since yesterday. I'm getting worried. He is just two, isn't he supposed to get sleep?

And where's my aunt? She is supposed to be here. She callled us saying she will be. But thirteen hours later, she isn't here. And I've been trying my hardest to feed my siblings, but they aren't eating. They can't, all they can do is cry.

And I want to cry. I want to cry so bad but I can't. If I were to cry, would I be able to pick myslef up? Be the brother my siblings need? Be the son my parents raised?

I can't so I don't. I don't cry, I mindlessly run around my house trying to pick up after my sibkings.

It's hard. And everything is dull.

Why am I writing to you when I'm not even going to show you it? I should stop.
-Grayson

Oh Grayson. This was written thirteen hours after the death of his parents. I can't imagine how raw his emotions were when writing this. My heart hurts for him, he couldn't let out his emotions. He had responsibilities as soon as his parents died.

The next note is a close to a month later.

December 2,Three years ago
Julie,
Are you okay? I watched you walk into the classroom, pain written all over your face and when I asked you, you made a joke. You were lying; I know you were your left eyebrow rose up and you held eye contact with me. You were silently telling me to believe you. But I don't.

Something is wrong, if there is anything you need to talk about you can come to me. I know you and I hold competition, but I'd never turn you down if you needed the help.
-Grayson