The Letters // Cameron Dallas

// Chapter 2

It's only 12 noon and this day has already been eventful, to say the least. I was greeted by the girl whose laughter echoed in my apartment last night. 

She said her name was Stass; Anastasia to be precise, along with a tedious last name I couldn't repeat if I tried. Stass nonchalantly joined me by the coffeemaker wearing only a long grey t-shirt. When I asked if she attended Emerald State University, she scoffed and nearly choked on her coffee. Then went on to say ESU is for snobby rich kids. My unexplainable facial expression implied that I attend ESU and I'm not a snobby rich kid in the least bit. 

She apologized. Then went on to tell me she attends Eastwood College which is 10 minutes away. Stass tried to make nice with me after that, complimenting my 3 black-ink tattoos, my septum piercing, and giving me a detailed report on why she wants to be a model instead of a fashion design major. I didn't care but I figured it was nice to know that Cameron was dating someone who wasn't as rude as him.

I still had an hour before classes but I left anyway. The incomparable Nate Maloley, my ex, wanted to speak with me before class. It's been 3 months and while I still love him, I don't want to get back together. We dated for two years. The first year was perfect. The second year was a downward spiral. He randomly stopped trusting me and I never gave him a reason not to. But what was once a few simple 'Who are you hanging out with' type of questions, soon became him checking my messages and logging into my social media accounts. Making sure he knew that I loved him went from a willing pleasure to a daily task. Expressing my love and proving my loyalty should never be a job.

Like the foreign phenomenon it is around here, we had a clear day, so I sat on a bench in one of the many quaint gardens on campus. Nate approached me with his hands in his pockets, his backpack hanging on one shoulder, his hair dissheveled, and his eyes looking like he had been losing sleep.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, taking a seat.

"Hello," I replied.

"How was the funeral," he asked.

I knew of his good intent behind that question but what was I supposed to say to that?

"It was...a funeral. Nothing to rave about," I answered. My nails dug into the palms of my hands, surpressing the lingering sting from Granny's death. "Sorry I didn't call."

"It's okay, you were with family." A corner of his mouth slightly rose, flashing a dimple, but then it lowered again. "I miss you, though."

"I know, Nate. I know. You never let me forget it," I sighed. "And I don't mean to sound bitchy but there's just so much going on in my mind right now."

"Want me to change the subject?"

"I encourage it."

"Okay...what's new? Last time we talked, you were gettin' a new roommate."

My ab muscles tensed. I knew if I mentioned Cameron, Nate would be up to his old ways. He would always find a reason to come over, not to spend time with me but more to keep watch or something. But I knew he'd find out sooner or later, so I might as well break the news.

"I did. I met...my new roommate yesterday actually." I held my bottom lip between my teeth, facing the inevitable. "His name is Cameron and I don't know much about him except that he's a bit of an asshole."

Nate nodded but with a look of approval. And I was shocked. Maybe the 'asshole' part put him at ease.

"Did he hurt you in any way," Nate asked, licking his lips out of habit.

"Not at all," I kind of lied. "I just stayed in my room after meeting him. Met his girlfriend this morning."

Nate's shoulders lowered a little more with ease. This wasn't as bad as I thought.

"Cool," he said.

"Anything new with you?"

"I might, uh, be thinkin' about droppin' out," he responded.

"What?" My eyes grew wide. He's had dumb ideas before, sure, but this was by far the dumbest.

"Relax," he chuckled. "It's just a thought. I wanna pursue my music full time, you feel me? Not just when I get free time. I'm not even doin' too well in classes since, well you know."

"So you mean to tell me that you're doing shitty in school because we broke up? Oh Nate." I rolled my eyes.

"It's not the full reason but damn Ellie, it's part of it. That shit hurt me."

"I didn't come here to start another argument," I shrugged. "If that's what might make you happy then I want you to be happy."

"You mean that?" He stared deep into my eyes. Those same eyes have been the cause of our on & off demise. Because once Nate gives off a certain look, an hour later you're catching your breath, naked & sore beneath the bedsheets. But regardless of his effect on me, I held it together.

"Yes," I spoke softly. "I don't like how we are right now. I would like us to be friends. It won't be like before but we can try. Just...stop trying to fix what can't be fixed & work on what can."

Nate reached for my hand and brought it to his lips.

"I love you lil mama," he said.

I easily slipped my hand away, trying to hide any sign that I was blushing.

"Love you too," I replied quickly. "I have to go to class. I'll text you later."

. . .

Most of my classmates groaned at the thought of doing anything that wasn't electronic. I just saw it as another assignment that will cover the span of the semester. I'll get it over with and get it done.

My English Lit professor, Mr. Moss, is in his early 30's; hailing all the way from Hammersmith in London. The way he was raised was very traditional and he claims his only social media is Instagram since he loves photography. Keeping up with his traditional standards, he decided to bring back the idea of a penpal program along with another professor at another nearby college. He didn't say whether it was Eastwood College or Haringfield (a private college). But the other school had already written the first letters. 

Mr. Moss explained that the letters are to be anonymous. We can use any variation of a fake name, but not our real ones. No exchanging emails or phone numbers. Simply talking about ourselves and our day. The sole purpose is to get a break from social media and get to know someone by seeing their soul, not a profile picture. I'd say the idea was pretty genius.

At the end of class, I picked a random envelope out of the bag. Written on the envelope...

To: You

From: Gizmo the Gremlin

I chuckled to myself and shoved the envelope in my bag, eager to rush through my next class then head home to read it.