The Mailbox Girl

4. A letter and a song

"I should've told you last time it was a shitty idea."

I looked down at Shane who was sitting, or should I say was slumped at his usual place, playing games. I had just read out loud the first mail from the Box and to be honest, right now, I felt like maybe he was right.

"It's just a joke."

I read the note again and it hurt just like the first time. So I decided to put it in the trash, where it belonged.

"You attention whore, clearly it's a joke."

"Don't be sarcastic on me, okay? This stuff happens, that's normal. We're in a high school, most students here are douche. I expected that. I just want to help the kind ones."

"When all you get is mails like that, will you finally trust me on the fact that it really is a shitty idea?" He repeated, without taking his eyes off of his phone. "You're so naive."

"So what?"

I hadn't raised my voice, but my tone was way more cold than it ever was, which surprised Shane. For once, he looked at me. Like, really looked. I thought he was suddenly understanding me and my motives and would say something really nice. Instead, it was just:

"You must be a masochist."

"Call me whatever name you want, I don't care."

My sentence was half-finished when suddenly a shadow passed just right in front of the classroom door. It stopped just where the Mailbox was set, then left. A smile grew on my face, erasing my doubts on the spot.

I jogged out of the room to get the mail and started reading it in my head. I didn't care about Shane knowing about the letters anymore: he was just a dead weight who made it clear he wouldn't get involved in the Mailbox Club.

As a smile brightened my whole face at the words before me, I heard him ask:

"What does it say?"

"It's a real question this time." I answered while sitting across from him.

"That doesn't answer my..."

"Hush, I'm reading."

As I said, at this point Shane was no more than an extra in the movie of my life. His questions, his opinions, nothing mattered because my project was coming to life with this single mail.

Hello, I wanted to say thanks for making this mailbox. It's less intimidating speaking up that way. I don't know yet what type of question we can ask you but I happened to have one for weeks and you're the only person I feel like asking it to. It's a bit embarrassing but here it is: as a Freshman, can I ask a Sophomore out or will I look dumb? Thanks once again.

"The guy did not understand the purpose of the Student Council."

Shane was standing behind me, reading the letter over my shoulder.

"Who cares? It's cute. They're just a freshman."

At this point, I would have defended anyone who had put something in the mail to be honest.

"Who do you think wrote that? A boy, a girl?"

Shane was still behind me and I could feel his breath on the back of my ear as he talked.

"It tickles." I said with a small laugh.

"What?"

"You being so close!" I stepped away as I protected my ear with my hand. "Your breath tickled my ear."