Dear Richie

May 1 Age: 16

Dear Richie,

So, to continue from what I said yesterday:

I held the note closely to me the rest of the day, even though it was a bit crumbled from all the swipes it endured.

Melanie basically growled at me. Growled. Like a bear.

Luckily, Mr. Dusky finally walked into the room, potentially saving my life.

For the time being.

I waited so eagerly throughout World History, as Mr. Dusky went on and on about the 1800's. He yapped on and on about their style of clothing, their mannerisms, roles in society for different races and genders...

I wanted to bang my head against the desk.

It felt like forever until the bell finally rang for the end of the day.

I glanced at the note that read the cute little poem and the sweet message to meet in Mrs. Winchester's class.

I was so happy and full of glee. I bolted out of my chair, swiping up my backpack and books in one swoop, and dashed down the hall, not even bothering to stop at my locker to drop off my books.

I did stop once I made it to Mrs. Winchester's class.

Through the tiny window, I could see that the light was still on, but I couldn't see anyone occupying it. The door was left a tad ajar.

I took a deep breath as I reached for the handle to open the door all the way.

I opened it just a but before...

All my dreams were lies. Everything I thought was good, senseful, meaningful... was instantly destroyed in that moment.

A bucket of green paint splashed all over me, the bucket landing on my head.

I stumbled backwards, hitting the lockers behind me and then falling to the floor.

I could hear people snickering and laughing wholeheartedly at my predicament.

I lifted the bucket off my head and beheld Greta and Olivia, holding their stomachs from how hard they were laughing.

"That was priceless!"

"I wish I had recorded it!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure someone did."

I allowed the bucket to hide my shame.

I waited for the hallway to empty out of any maniacal or teasing laughter before I lifted the bucket completely off and made my way to my brothers.

"What happened to you?" Liam asked harshly before noticing my state of being. His voice then softened, "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

I shoved a smile onto my face. "Oh, just a little mishap during Art 2. Nothing a shower can't fix."

"Well, you're cleaning my car afterwards," Lucas said, hopping into the car.

"I know," I sighed.

My brothers exchanged a look as I hopped into the car. Liam tried to keep his distance from me, since I was covered in a ton of paint.

I came home with all kinds of thoughts rushing through my mind. Was that whole thing a hoax? All those flowers... were to mess with me?

That didn't seem to add up. Why would someone go through all that trouble of making cards and buying flowers, just to ruin everything in the end?

I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Since no one else showed up to help me. Maybe that person chickened out or something. Or realized how much of a loser I really am and decided to bail.

I wish I had an answer. I don't know who it was or if it was all just an elaborate hoax.

I kinda hope it was a hoax and not someone bailing on me. It's better to feel like no one cared about you to begin with than having someone think you're everything and then turn away when things get rough.

So if that was you, I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't you, Richie.

I did come home yesterday (well, duh) and I took a nice, long shower. I have to be honest, I cried a little... or a lot.

But I guess that's how life works. Not everyone has their "Sweet Sixteen" birthday party that they dream of.

But, I did end up getting those chocolate chip pancakes that I was begging for... at 11 o'clock at night.

Turns out my parents didn't "forget", as they so claim, but were "extremely tired and incapable of moving" yesterday morning.

It doesn't bother me a whole lot. I got my pancakes in the end.

And that's okay.

Love,
Leia Meadows ❤