im•per•cep•tive

CHAPTER FIVE

An apology.

The last thing I expect is Celia barging through the door of my room screaming excitedly about something.

I do expect the barging part, but not necessarily the screaming excitedly part. Not a lot of exciting things happen around here, but leave it to Celia to make something in my dull and dark life exciting.

I swear to god, I would kiss her every time she made something great for me.

I think I would be all out of kisses, so I'll leave her fiance to do that for me.

"What's so exciting?" I ask her as I stop petting Baby, my service dog. Baby is soft and kind. I got her last year when I refused to not get any other dog but her because my mother had told me that a 'pit bull won't make a good service dog!'

Baby is just fine, and despite my mother's pleas to "please pick another dog" , I will forever love baby and I know that she will forever love me.

She was softer, sweeter, and kinder than all the other dogs, there is just some sort of magic about her that makes her more special. Something that makes her more unique and lovable.

Maybe it was because she is extremely misunderstood.

Anyone who let Baby go was the real loser in this situation.

"You got a letter!" Celia says excitedly and I become morbidly confused.

"I haven't sent any letters to anyone."  I said, "I can't even write correctly without help. Also I don't know where the post office is."

"I know that! But you got a love letter!" She tells me and then Baby sneezes and I jump, I still haven't gotten used to all the noises that come with the dog yet, especially since have no idea when to expect them.

"Where'd you find it?" I ask her, nothing, or at least almost nothing, gets past my mother, my father could probably care less.

"It was left on the porch! Why aren't you excited or something?! I would have died if I got a letter from a boy at your age."  She says, I can tell she's far more excited about a random letter than I am.

"I just don't care that much I guess, plus who would write me a letter I can't read?" I ask her and I know that she knows I've proven a point.

"Well whatever, I'm going to read it." She says and I know that she has already read the letter, she's too excited not to.

"Dear Eliza," She starts, "I'm sorry for the other day."

(Tuesday, two days ago.)

"Seth and Marcus are assholes, if they give you any trouble tell me and I'll kick their asses, unless you beat them up first." Celia stopped and let out a little squeal before she started reading it out loud again, "I'd love to see that, see you in class. Elijah."

Celia seemed to squeal more, and I just sat. 

That was very brave.