"Dear Isak..or should I call you stranger again?
Since the morning you walked out of my front door, leaving my heart shattered to pieces, a few days have passed.
Sonja called me shortly after you left, she somehow found out about the party and lectured me for at least 20 minutes about the dangers of consuming alcohol in my 'condition'. I mean what am I to her? A medical case? Apparently not a human being having a right to experience joy from time to time. Whatever.
My parents have grounded me for the next two weeks and we've spent the rest of the day cleaning up the flat, including scrubbing the walls for hours. Stupid neon paint.But Isak, I wouldn't have cared less about all that if the two of us would still talk.
You would've made it all worth it.
But instead, you are acting like that whole night, our night, never happened.
You act like you don't even know me.
When you and your friends pass by me in the school hallway and say hello, you aren't even looking at me. It hurts, you know.
I just don't get it. What did I do to you?
I mean fine, you woke up in my bed after a party and probably thought I did god-knows-what with you.
But did that give you any reason to treat me like that? I wrote you on facebook, asking you if you were alright after you left and you didn't even respond. Why?I just want to say one more thing, Isak.
I am going to find out why you cried that night.
I am going to find out why you didn't want to go home. And I am going to find out why you are acting like you are right now.
All I know is that you were really hurt that night and I can't stand you being hurt.
So, Isak Valtersen, tomorrow, if you want or not, we. will. talk.See you tomorrow,
Even."
Even climbed out of his bed and put the letter into an empty cookie box he stole out of the kitchen. He glimpsed inside. It was the sixth letter. How many more would he write?
He closed the box and put it in his cupboard. Then, Even climbed up his bed again and cuddled up under the blanket.The faint, but present smell of Isak's cologne was still lingering over the pillows. Normally, Even would've relished it, but being in the situation he was in, it hurt.
It hurt, because Even was almost certain Isak would never lie in his bed again.
Sighing, Even turned off the light and closed his eyes. I am going to talk to Isak tomorrow and everything will be okay again, was Even's last thought, then he fell into a restless sleep.The next morning, Even found himself in the cafeteria, sitting next to David.
"You all right?" the dark haired boy asked and shot him a worried look.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Even answered, pinching the cheese toast on his plate with a fork."You sure?" David asked, once more. Even looked up. "I said yes." he said, this time a little bit aggressive.
"Alriiight, I was just worried man." David answered, lifting up his hands to make a reassuring gesture. Even felt kind of guilty. He didn't mean to be this way, the 'operation Isak' just stressed him out so much."I know. Sorry." he said and smiled at David.
Even then turned his attention to Isak, who had just entered the cafeteria. He was waiting in line to buy some food.Even stood up and ignored the
questioning look from David, then he made his way to the waiting line.
When he arrived, Isak had already gotten the same cheese toast, Even had bought earlier. By the sight of Even standing in front of him, Isak abruptly stopped all his movement and stared at him."Hello." Even said, almost questioning. Isak didn't answer. He just continued staring.
"I wouldn't have bought that if I were you." Even said gesturing towards the toast, "tastes like balls."
He wasn't sure, but Even thought he saw a glimpse of amusement in Isak's eyes.
But that glimpse vanished after what it seemed like seconds.
Isak looked left and right, then he leaned closer to the older boy.
Even could feel his heart flatter in his chest. Why did that boy have such an impact on him?"Wasn't I being clear enough when I said that you should stay out of my life?" Isak half-whispered in a threatening tone.
Even smiled. He had figured Isak would say something like that. Even leaned in even closer. So close, he could feel Isak's breath on his face."Look, Isak. You have two choices. Either you let me explain to you what happened that night and tell me why the f*ck you are acting this way, or I am going to turn around in a few seconds and shout through the whole canteen that you like to spoon older guys. Loud enough for everyone to hear it."
Isak slowly blinked a few times."Alright." Even said and began to turn around. "-Wait!" Isak interrupted him and gripped his arm. "Wait.." he repeated softly and took a deep breath.
"Meet me this afternoon at 5 pm. My place. I'll text you the address." Isak said, his tone defeated.
"There we go." Even said satisfied. Isak stumbled a few steps backwards, then he made his way to the table where his friends were sitting. Even looked after him.
He felt excited thinking about later, but at the same time, he felt guilty for blackmailing Isak. But, to his defense, it had been the only way."I just don't get what you're seeing in him." a suspiciously familiar female voice said to Even. He turned around. It was the Muslim girl he first saw at his party.
"I mean, he can be nice if he wants to, but I don't see why anyone would want to be with him." she continued, shaking her head.
Even raised one eyebrow."Sana, is it?" he spoke up. The girl nodded. "Look Sana, I don't know what you're on about but I totally agree with you." he said, smiling innocently.
Sana looked at him knowingly. Why did she always do that?"I know he can be...difficult." she said, ignoring what Even had said before.
"But there's something special going on between the two of you. I can feel it." she went on and her eyes drifted to Isak. "So, if you need someone to talk to, Even, just know I'm here."
YOU ARE READING
Letters To A Stranger
RomanceEven is fascinated, when a certain blue-eyed boy first captures his attention in the school canteen. From that moment on, he writes letters, in which he expresses his feelings towards the stranger. Little does Even know, that his obsession with the...