It's So Easy | Buddy Holly

Yearbooks

January 25th, 1959. 3:28 pm, The Tour Bus

I'm sitting on the bus, trying to figure out what to do about this Koch/Rose situation when I hear Buddy call my name from the back of the bus.

"Vi, come look at this!"

I carefully stand up and slowly make my way to him. "What's wrong?"

"Why's your year book in here? In the suitcase?"

"My year book is in there?" I raise my eyebrows and grab the end of a seat to steady myself.

"Yeah, there's a false bottom with your senior yearbook."

"Huh, that's...weird. Did I put it there when we moved and just forgot?"

"I think so." Buddy opens the book and smiles. "What a shock, I wrote an entire page." He looks down and carefully touches the writing. "I don't remember writing this much."

I look down at it. It's unmistakably Buddy's handwriting and word choice.

Dear Violet,

Hey, it's me, your most precious boyfriend. You're taking forever to write in my book, so I'm going to take forever to write in yours. I don't know what to talk about seeing as it's not like we'll never see eachother again. I mean, we're getting married, after all (shhhhh, secret engagement). Welp, these years with you have been some of the best of my life. Here, I'll talk about my favorite memories from each year.

Sophomore year was the year we met. I remember I saw you talking to Juliet and Vincent on the hall. Want me to be honest? I came up to you guys because I thought you were STUNNING. Oh, and I wanted to help you. They warned our class that more sophomores were coming in and they might not be too fantastic at English. I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I offered to show you around. I remember I was shocked at your accent. They said something about France I think? I don't remember that part, I just remember hearing you talk and thinking "Why did they warn us when they're British? English comes from England, dumbasses." Then you told me you were from France and I realized. Hmmm, then I invited you to sit with me at lunch (mostly because I thought you were cute and I didn't want to sit with who I sat with in Freshman year). And from then on, we were best friends. Attached at the hip. We did everything together (and still do). Oh, and we kissed on the park bench which started our relationship. Everytime you tell this story, you leave out the part where after we kissed and I asked you out, we sat in my car and made out. I don't blame you, I leave that part out, too. No one needs to know that 10 minutes after getting together my hands were up your shirt. Or that we'd hooked up a bunch before that. (I leave it out, too)