Letters from Vietnam [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter 5

Monday, March 24, 1975

            It has been nearly a week and Angela still hasn’t received a letter back from Jason.

            “Are you okay?” Carly asked as she laid sprawled out on the floor as the two listened to Angela’s expansive record collection.

            “Yeah,” Angela answered dejectedly. “I’m fine.”

            Carly rolled over to her stomach so she could look up at her friend. “Then why don’t I believe you?” She asked incredulously.

            She sighed. “Because you’re smart.” Angela got up off her bed and looked out her window and down towards the mailbox. Before Carly could ask what exactly was bothering her Angela said, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She sighed looking down at her friend lying on her bedroom floor. “I have to go to a brunch down at the country club.”

            Carly made a face. “You have to mingle with the upper class snobs?”

            “Yeah, pretty much.” Angela mumbled putting her earrings in. “Way to spend a day off from school.”

            “Don’t worry. Maybe you’ll meet a rich guy.” Carly joked.

            She rolled her eyes. “Like a need to be some rich prick’s wife.” She said with a slide edge in her voice. “I’ll call you later and we can talk then.”

            Carly got up off the floor and nodded. “Sounds good, hun.”

            Angela walked Carly down stairs and to the front door. “I know you’re worried, but don’t be.” She smiled and hugged her friend goodbye.

            Angela stood by her mother’s side as she talked to the manager of the country club. She rolled her eyes at the guys who made it obvious that they were checking her out. “Pigs,” She muttered feeling the urge to flip them all off. This definitely wasn’t her scene and she didn’t plan on adapting to it.

            “I’m going to get some punch.” Angela told her mother who was too busy sweet talking the manger to even hear what she said.

            She walked up to a table set with refreshments and got herself something to drink. Just as she was beginning to feel relaxed she felt a presence standing next to her. “What do you want, Blake?” She asked with a slight tone.

            “Clearly, I just want to talk to you.” He said sipping at his champagne. “So the word around the club is you have yourself a little pen pal.” Angela felt sweat coat her palms and her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink.

            She took one last sip of her punch before putting the glass back down on the table. “And what if I do?”

            “Why are you so defensive?” He asked examining her body language. “You’re so tense.” He stated putting his hand on her shoulder before she jerked away from his touch.

            “Don’t put your filthy hands on me.” Angela spat at him. “And stop nosing around in my personal life.”

            “Personal? You call exchanging letters with some soldier you don’t know personal? Angela, why don’t you think more practically? Clearly you deserve better than some nobody in Vietnam.”

            Angela felt like her body was on fire ignited by her own anger. “He’s there so your sorry ass doesn’t have to be.” She said raising her voice slightly. “So do us both a favor and go to hell.” She said turning to walk away.