The Promise

six

Year 2010 - Winter - California State University, Fresno

Lydia's POV

Letter number four:

12/10/10

Dear Louis,

It's been three months.

Three months since you ruined us- ruined me.

I haven't been able to function properly for three months. I wake up in the middle of the night replaying the last moments in my head over and over and wondering what I could've done to save us.

I've been in college for three months. I wish I could call you every night and tell you everything. If I could, I'd tell you about my annoying roommate, or my eccentric professors, or that I can't listen to The Killers without thinking of you, and how they're your favorite.

I wish you would call me and tell me what you've been doing for three months. I want to hear if your roommate is better than mine, or if your classes are hard.

But I can't. You promised we'd stay in each other's lives. You told me not to worry, that everything would come together one day. I tried to believe you, but I just can't anymore. It's too hard thinking that one day I'll come back to my dorm after class to find you sitting on my bed, your elbows resting on your thighs with your head in your hands, ready to tell me you messed up. I used to come home, praying that would be the case and it hurt too much coming back to an empty room.

Christmas is coming up, and I'm constantly reminded by every store and sign around town that you're not here with me to celebrate.

I miss you.

-Lydia

Letter number six:

12/16/10

Dear Louis,

It's about 4:30 AM right now, and I woke up with a pain in my chest. I can't tell if it's heartburn or the emptiness coming back.

But it's late and I have to be up soon.

I wish you were here.

I'm sorry things changed.

-Lydia

---

"Hey, Katie," I mumble, tossing my books onto my bottom bunk in our dorm. She's sitting at our desk, doing some kind of homework assignment. Her blonde hair is tied up at the top of her head in a messy bun, and she's already in her PJ's at 7:30.

"Hey, Lydia, how was class?" She asks, but I've come to know she doesn't really care. I answer with a plain, "fine" and lay down on top of my covers on my bunk, staring at the bottom of her mattress above me.

"So I found your notebook in the desk drawer today," She turns and looks at me, biting on the pen she was writing with before.

My heart starts beating faster in my chest. The notebook with the letters. I sit up and nearly hit my head on her bunk above me.

"What?" I knew exactly what she said, though. I just need to make sure this isn't some kind of nightmare.

"The notebook you keep in the desk drawer. I needed some paper for my homework so I went to look for some and I stumbled across all the letters you wrote to that Louis guy."

I'm wondering why she's even telling me this. If she found them, she could've saved me the embarassment of telling me about it. Why didn't I find a better hiding place for the thing?