Family + Camp (working title)

Chapter 9: The Rye Note

Her room. It would be fine. She'd be here a year, and then it was off to college. Now that she'd moved away from Oregon, maybe she'd move back.

Her dad had put the few boxes she'd placed in the U-Haul three weeks ago into her room. They were like birthday presents, because she could not remember what she'd put in them. 

Apparently, things she didn't really need nor missed.

Inside the first box, she found her winter sweaters. Okay. That made sense. She could leave those for now. Next, she found some books from her childhood including her Little House on the Prairie series and a collection of oversized picture books her mother had ordered when Jamie was a baby. Since she'd been the last to use them, they had remained in her room rather than going back to his after Nell had outgrown them. The books were so worn, so deeply read over and over, and loved. She'd have to wait for her bookcases to arrive in the moving van to put them away. But seeing them, holding them, was like having an old friend with her.

She picked up Catcher in the Rye, and a slip of paper fell out. It had been ripped from a spiral notebook. Nell unfolded it and drew in a surprised breath. She recognized Len's writing. As promised, he had helped with the packing. It hadn't been awkward. Rewind that: It had totally been awkward, painfully awkward! For like, the first ten minutes of his being in her house. They had blasted her little pink boombox, drowning out any need to talk beyond her answering his questions about where things should go.

She didn't remember this note—he must have put it in when they were packing.

Nell:
Remember to not become a phony. Holden Caulfield and I, we both can't stand phonies, and it's obvious California is full of them. I promise that I will not become a phony, either. Let this book protect you from their overly moussed hoards. I know you don't want to talk about the thing that happened. You're not ready. Hell, you might not open this book for years, then you'll see this note and be like, what the hell? Right now, you are supposed to be packing your photo albums, but you keep getting distracted by the pictures inside and telling me stories about them, even though I am in most of them and lived through those events. There's always been something between us, but I guess it's too late to do anything about it. For now. Anyway, I will miss you, Nell. Maybe we'll kiss again, some day. In the meantime, try to relax, and keep skankin' to that old beat!
Your friend,
Len

What the hell was she supposed to do with that?

She read through it one more time before staring off into space, her heart racing. After who knows how long, she took a deep breath and tucked the paper back into the book.

Had there been something between them all this time? Apparently, he thought so. But he'd always been...he'd never made a play. And she was...well, some might say, she was repressed. But what was wrong with that with HIV and drug addiction to battle? Okay, she was being extreme. Extreme and repressed.

Nell dug through her backpack, found the unsent letter to Len, and wrote on the back of the envelope: Found your Rye note. No phonies. Let him stew on that.

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Wattpad Fam: I did not have this exact mini boombox, but oh, how I wanted it! Mine was red and black and not as curvy. The 1950s were very "in" when I was in middle school in the 80s. 30 years nostalgia I guess if you look at the movies that were out: Back to the Future, Peggy Sue Got Married.