dear wyatt

Dear Wyatt,

If you’re reading this, that means I finally did it. It’s weird knowing you’ve killed yourself when you’re writing a letter for a boy you like, you know?

            Well, you don’t know me. I’m sure you know my name, and what I look like, but we’ve never talked before. You were always distracted by your friends, or the girls who were more interested in their nail polish than their grades.

            My name’s Alice, I’ve been in your class since second grade and I admit I’ve been watching you. I know what makes you smile, I know what pushes your buttons, and I know what your favorite music is.

            I know you don’t like football. I’ve seen you at games, your mind is always wandering somewhere else when you win while your father is cheering you on and hugging you. I’m just guessing you’re playing the sport for your father.

            You’re the golden boy in our school. Not once have you gotten a bad grade, which is surprising for a boy who spent his time partying and hooking up. You’re weird, you know that?

            I don’t like you because you’re a football player. I don’t even like you because of your grades. I like you because you’re not who you pretend to be when everyone else is around. I’ve seen you at the library during study hall, you always pick up those scientific books and I can see the adoration in your eyes when your eyes hit the pages.

            I hope that when you finish reading this letter, you’ll give up that stupid act and become the scientist you want to be. Wyatt, you’re smart. Everyone can see that. You don’t have to get yourself into stupid shit to get attention. Dump football; tell your dad the truth. I know you don’t like it. I believe you hate it. Drop your friends; I know they aren’t the realest friends you’ve had. You’ll find better ones, when you leave high school and go to the college of your dreams.

            I know many people are asking you about college. But I’m begging you; please don’t go to that college your dad wants you to. Wyatt, do what you want. I know people haven’t asked you about what you want but now I am. Wyatt, what do you want? I know it isn’t to be the man your dad is planning you to be.

            So, take the dead girl’s advice and go for it. Go to college. Become a scientist. Be who you want to be. I know I might sound hypocritical, seeing as I committed. But you have to believe me when I say, I wasn’t happy. I didn’t have friends, not the type that you’d be with all the time. My parents fought constantly, leading to my brother trying to become the man of the house and force me to do things. I wasn’t happy, but I’m sure I’ll be when I go.

            Wyatt, I just don’t want you to turn out like me. You’re a great guy, from what I’ve seen from afar. And I just want you to be happy. So please, do what you want and be happy. Because Dear Wyatt, here's everything I wanted to say to you but I never did.

Love,

     Alice

I folded the paper slowly, my eyes never leaving it. I shoved it in my pocket, pulling my sweatshirt hood over my head as I walked down the stairs slowly.

             My family was in the kitchen, laughing along to whatever my dad said. I knew they’d see me, I knew they’d ask me where I was going, and I didn’t care anymore.

            “Wyatt? Honey, where are you going?” My mother asked the second I passed the kitchen. Closing my eyes, I nodded once before opening them and turning around. My father was there of course, curiously staring at me.