hometown « josh dun »

January 14, 2000

Dear Joshua Dun,

I know that I'm just that eleven year old that goes to the same school as you but its my birthday. And I wanted to say hi. So here it is, hey, Josh Dun. My name is Abigail. I think you know me. We have PE together and your friend Tyler likes my best friend Leila. He told me this at lunch a few weeks ago. I promised him I would not tell her and because of that he started having lunch with me. I think you noticed this because I saw you eating lunch with Max and Marcus instead a lot. Anyways, hello again I'm Abigail Mason, and you dont talk to me very much. I'm eleven years old & in fifth grade. You Josh are in sixth. I like to think I am smart and can write good. I hope that Tyler gives you this letter on time.

Sincerly,
Abby M.

I smile as I look down at the paper, which my nine year old self thought was so damn clever. This is the one that started it. One of the very few I actually sent. The thing that started it all with Joshua Dun.

If I had the choice, would I throw this in the bin? Yes. If only nine year old me knew what was about to happen between me and Josh. What pain was about to be brought upon me, upon him. I should have left him alone. I would, if only I could.

Or maybe I'm only saying this, because I never see old Joshua around, and if I so much as get a phone call from him, I know I would go weak and crumble. I'm in love with Joshua Dun. I'm pretty sure I was when I sent that letter.

I peek at the next paper, which was half a yellow sheet of paper, filled with black ink, in thirteen-year-old Josh's handwriting. I smile to myself again, trying to make out what they say.

Dear Abby Mahoffey,

Hey, I got the letter from Tyler. You are not just a eleven year old at my school, and I do know you. Your always the one making our team win in volleyball, remember? I sure do. I'm not avoiding you, I just suck at making new friends. You seem cool, though. Maybe I'll see you at lunch tomorrow, yeah? And happy birthday. Tyler and I got you a gift. Have a good one, Abby. You should come bike around with me and Tyler some time.

From: Josh Dun

I remember meeting him at lunch the next day. He gave me a Wild Cherry CapriSun and a little bracelet he and Tyler probably got for a buck or so at the convenience store. At that age, I didn't realize that. I thought it was a priceless, amazing, gold plated, wrist embellishment. I smile again, remembering exactly how I felt when he gave me the orange-and-purple striped bracelet, in a brown paper bag with my initials written on it. The amazing thing is, I know exactly where it is.
My drawer is already open, but I would still have to look. I keep it in a small box in the far corner, so I don't have to be constantly reminded of him. And there it is, a bit dusty, and a bit gray. I wear it, and I feel like the queen of the world again.
I remember getting on my pink and purple bike, my school bag in the purple princess basket, and biking home with Tyler and Josh. They both had big kid bikes, the ones with no princesses or cars on them. I took note of that, and told myself I wanted a plain metal and black or white bike for Christmas. The week after that, they had pretty much taught me the rules of everything.
They had taught me how to grow up, what's good music, and what's bad, who's a plastic bitch- and mind you, this was the first time someone had cussed right in front of me without saying sorry - and who isn't. How to deal with bullies, and how to break boys' fingers if they touch you without your consent. They were pretty much my older brothers.
The problem is, back then, I didn't want Josh to be my older brother. I wanted him to go with me, but he was in middle school, and the girls in middle school had boobs and curves and braces and hormones. I was still naive and, well. Me.
Maybe I should have left it that way. Maybe I should never have thought of ways to ruin Josh's friendship with Avery Gills the entire week I spent with them. Maybe I should have stuck to just friends. It would have been easier.