Dear Paris,
I remember when I first met you, my mom made us all walk over with her infamous chunky chocolate chip cookies. She told us that you had just moved in from New York so she was reluctant to give you guys a batch of her cookies because apparently New Yorkers are vegan and super healthy along with the Californians, and I wasn't really sure how she knew that because this would be the first time she'd talk to you and your parents, but I didn't question her because she knows everything about everyone and not so surprisingly she was right about the vegan thing. I didn't really mind going over to greet your family, I wasn't going to do my homework anyway; and I liked meeting new people. Nicola wasn't so excited to walk across the street and make small chat, because she's not really that type of person and she's really lazy and boring, I think that's why you guys used to get along really well. I'M KIDDING!
We got there and I almost turned around and left because your dog kept barking really loudly and I'm not really a dog person, but then you opened the door and it felt like my shoes had melted and then dried on your doorstep, I couldn't move, and honestly, I really didn't want to. You had gray hair Paris, it was literally gray, and it looked so good on you, any color would look good on you, but gray was quirky and weird, like you. I forgot my name when we introduced ourselves to you; my mother had to say it for me, which was embarrassing because she called me by my full name instead of my first name, so I had to correct her and that made you smile a little wider. You spoke with so much eloquence and confidence for a girl from New York, I expected you to be rude and ill-mannered but you weren't, and I think I immediately realized I liked you at that point.
- Liam
YOU ARE READING
Dear Paris
Fanfiction"Maybe if we broke the mirrors, we wouldn't break ourselves" Letters to a girl from the boy living across the street.
