Dear Jacob

Letter 5

Dear Jacob,

I'm currently on a train. Not running away this time. Well, not by choice.

I'm being made to go to my cousins down in London. It will 'help me get through this time of need'. More like they want me out of the way so they don't have to deal with my moping anymore.

Robin forced Mum to let her come. Robin always backs me up. She was the first person who knew that I was friends with you. I was trying to keep it from them; my family is known for patronizing comments and general teasing. But, twins have some sort of telepathic system built in, I recon. She always seems to know whats up with me before I do...

We were on a train similar to this one when she forced me to tell her about you.

It was considerably darker that train journey. Late trains were Robin's favourite method of transport. I liked them, I guess. The dark countryside was mysteriously beautiful, and the less people on the train, the more peaceful. My backpack was, like usual, stuffed full of science fiction novels and magazines, only cushioned with a spare woolly jumper.

Robin always dressed to impress. Her hair was cut shorter than mine, but while I did alright taming the unruly reddish-brown curls into 2 braids, Robin's short jaw length bob curled into perfect ringlets that everyone, including me, was jealous of. She wore tight fitting dresses in bold colours, like deep red, hot pink and turquoise. I generally hid myself in loose jeans and cardigans in every deep earthly shade possible. Everyone was surprised when (or if) they realised I had the same figure as her. You were one of the first people to tell me I was prettier than Robin. Well, the other person was my Grandma, but she doesn't count. It's her duty to make me feel better.

I also never understood how she could fit everything she needed into a bag the size of her hand. My dark black backpack was held together by badges, and usually things fell out of the holes that were created by stress tears.

On that train, she was wearing her gorgeous royal blue dress, complete with heels, matching nails and tiny bag. It must have been a TARDIS bag. There is no other explanation. And even that goes against every law of science that exists.

When we usually reached the parties, I pretended to socialise with people until Robin took over. Then I ran off to hide somewhere quiet, usually a wardrobe or suitable small space until I was claimed by a usually very merry Robin. In fact, that was actually what I was about to do when you found me at the party where we first met.

The night I am talking about we were on the train for about 30 minutes, so Robin sat by me and we chatted a little. The cream and green interior of the train reflected off the windows, so as you looked out into the dark empty space of the vast British countryside, you could see yourself staring back.

I was busy trying to make out the shape of a house in the gloom when Robin tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to look at her, adjusting my bag on my lap so the books didn't dig into my leg. I always found it weird looking at Robin. It was like looking at one of those before and after screens on a makeover program.

When I looked up from my bag and met her gaze, she looked at me with a look I have now associated with 'I know something about you and you will now tell me'. It's a very smug face. "Who's that guy you hang around with at school?" she jumped on me. I panicked and probably resembled a startled rabbit. "Um...which one? You're going to have to be more specific..." I tried to play the comment down.

"You don't talk to anyone else." Robin rolled her eyes at me. "Ah. Yeah." I said sheepishly. This was sadly true. But, I had you, Jacob, so it wasn't too bad. Except that's wasn't, instead of isn't.

Anyway, I told Robin about you, and described everything I knew about you, your blue eyes that resembled the summer skies, light blond hair that blended with corn fields, and your love of books that had made me begin to move away from science magazines into the world of science fiction.

Robin's smug smile grew with every word until I had to stop. "What?" I asked, slightly concerned and confused. "Nothing." She giggled lightly, in a way that usually made boys faint. I blew strands of my hair out of my face in a huff. "WHAT!" I yelled, causing the people who were actually awake and listening to look around crossly before returning to their newspapers or phones. Robin just smirked and said "You like him." I rolled my eyes, and focused back on the dark shadows of outside that reflected my mood so well.

But, Jacob, I can still feel the odd feeling in the bottom of my stomach. I wish it would go away. Even after all these months, Jacob. It has never gone. And I wish it would.

Love, Emma