The End

872 36 12
                                        

Selena

“James Christopher, don’t you dare put that Twinkie in the box!” I yell from across the kitchen, finishing up my letter.

I hear a chorus of laughter as James groans, setting the Twinkie back down onto the table. “We all know I’ll sneak it in once again,” he says, sending a wink my way. I fold up the pieces of paper and slip them into the envelope before walking over to the rest of the group, “you done dear?”

“yup. Finished with my letter. Did you boys get the main one written?” After the letter Amber and I wrote, which was deemed ‘stupid and girly,’ Greg and James decided they got to write this one. Indeed, that did seem fair, but that didn’t mean Amber and I didn’t write one of our own.

“yes. It’s short, sweet, and to the point.” James tells me, once again trying to cover the Twinkie with a piece of paper. I slap his hand away and he just smirks.

Amber laughs, “it says, and I quote ‘read the damn letters.’”

I was speechless and shook my head at the two of them. It was definitely good that Amber and I wrote another letter. “Okay, does that mean we’re ready for the last picture then?” I ask, setting my envelope ontop of the pile in the box and taking out the Twinkie.

“remind me what the point of this picture is? We already have a recent one of all of us.” Greg points to the picture taken at their wedding.

“Greg, it’s a sweet idea to take a picture exactly how we were 17 years ago. It’ll only take a second and then you can pretend like it never happened.”

“It would be difficult to pretend it never happened since we will be opening this box back up in twenty years.” He replies, starting a small argument between the two of them. I ignore their bickering and slap James hand once again as he reaches for the Twinkie.

“It’s going to get in there.” He jokes, leaning up to kiss me.

“in your dreams buddy,” I pull him up from his spot and lead him to the back porch to watch the sun set over the fields. James wraps his arms around my waist and sets his chin on my head, “twenty years…” I whisper, thinking about all the things that would happen between now and the next time we open up the time capsule.

“yeah. Twenty years. Our kids will be teenagers.” James says, obviously thinking aloud by accident because that’s not a ‘James’ thing to say.

“and here I was thinking about how you’d be the head editor. But I like your future better. Watching you have those threatening talks with our daughters’ boyfriend, definitely an image worth seeing some time.”

“who ever said she could date?”

I lean my head up and kiss him, “honey, she will be allowed to date. We’re not keeping that experience from her.”

James’ hold on me tightens pulling me closer to his chest, “which experience? Catching your boyfriend in bed with another girl or having an emotionally abusive boyfriend that scares you?”

“The boyfriend that will be her best friend first and boyfriend second. The one that will care for her even when they aren’t together. The one that will tell her all the reasons he loves her, even if it takes forever. The boyfriend that’s the first thing she thinks when she wakes up and the last thing she thinks before going to bed. The boy she dreams about while sleeping, the one she daydreams about while in math class. The boy-” James cuts me off with his lips, moving me so that I’m facing him.

“The boy that’s perfect for her.” He whispers and I can do nothing but nod in response.

“okay lovebirds, let’s get this thing buried.” Greg says, walking out to the porch purposefully ruining our moment.

The Time Capsule (Old Version)Where stories live. Discover now