The Badass Saved Everyone's Ass

Chapter 21: Love letters?

Everyone is tense when I walk in the door. I put the groceries in the kitchen and walk into the living room.

"Alright, spill-" I cut off with a gasp when I see a giant bouquet of tulips on the coffee table. I narrow my eyes. "Axel." I whisper. I read the card.

Zoey,

I know you hate me but I got you tulips. I know those are your favorite.

-Axel

"Zoey." Mom sighs.

"What an ass! He has the nerve to bring these here? And he seriously brought tulips? He knows I'm allergic to them!"

I grab the vase, which he brought here, and I toss the whole thing in the lit fireplace.

"Jackass." I go into the kitchen and start putting everything away.

Nana comes and starts helping me. "You aren't very sad about him, are you?" she asks.

I'm quiet for a long time. "I don't know." I admit. "I miss him, yeah, but...I hate him, too. I thought he was the one, but I would never take him back. I'm almost mad at myself for trusting him. I'm almost mad that I saved him, but then I'm not, because it was the right thing to do."

"But you...do you cry yourself to sleep?"

"No." I shake my head. "I sleep fine. I have the TV on, but I used to do that before I was even with him anyways."

"That's how I feel." Charley walks into the kitchen and starts to help me.

The doorbell rings.

I hear Mom sigh loudly, and then a few seconds later, the door slams. She comes into the kitchen with another bouquet of flowers. This one has a clear vase and it's filled with Night Gladiolus. They're tannish flowers and they're really beautiful she hands them to me and everyone moves to the kitchen table. I read the card.

Zoey Ann Vagner,

Don't worry, it's not your prick ex bringing you these flowers, it's Ross. We met today. I bet you remember. I like green apples instead of red. So do you, but they were for your Nana. This isn't supposed to be creepy, but I think you're sweet and beautiful and we should go out sometime, when I'm around.

-Ross Ethan Carter

My cheeks start heating up.

"Those aren't from Axel." Mom says.

"I-" she shoots forward and rips the vase from my hand and reads the note aloud.

"Who is Ross?" Scout demands.

"I met him in the grocery store and-"

"And?" Nana presses.

"He was talking to me. That's it."

"Did he flirt with you?" Charles

"He called me beautiful." I mumble, turning around so they can't see the redness in my cheeks.

"He likes you?" Charley asks.

"Yes."

"Go out with him." Scout says.

"Yeah, Zoey, he could be-"

"I don't even know him. I'm not falling as easy as I did last time. I learnt the hard way. If he really cares, he'll win me."

Everyone sighs, but they don't harp on it. I put the flowers in my room, and I go back to the kitchen and let Nana start to help me make cookies.

____________

It's been three weeks and I haven't heard a word from Axel, thank god, or Ross.

I don't know him anyways, so it doesn't really matter.

I'll never admit to my family that I see those blue-gray eyes when I shut my own at night.

"Zo-bug!" Papa calls from the living room.

"Just a sec!" I call, clasping my bra and pulling my pink dress on. I towel dry my hair and brush it, and then I hang up my towel and put my dirty clothes in my hamper and walk out of the bathroom, to the living room. "Yeah?" I ask.

"You got a letter." He hands it to me.

I'm expecting a bill, but the front is handwritten and the return address is 31 Avenue George V, 75008 Paris, France.

"I don't know anyone from Paris." I frown and open the letter and pull out a piece of paper. It really is a handwritten letter.

Zoey Ann Vagner,

I know we only met once, but it seems impossible for me to get you out of my mind. You are all I think about. You probably don't know this, but I'm on a world tour. I'm a singer, and I'm not around often, but Zoey, I think I might love you. I know that's moving too fast because you just got out of a relationship with your prick ex, but still. You're so sweet and beautiful and when I look into your blue eyes, my world stops. You are amazing, and even though I won't be back to Adelaide for a year, I will never forget about you. If you're going to turn me down, please just write back and do it. Send the letter to Via Veneto, 191, 00187 Roma, Italy.

Love,

Ross Ethan Carter.

P.S. Did you know that in French, you don't really say "I miss you." You say "tu me manques," which is closer to "you are missing from me."

I love that. "You are missing from me." You are a part of me. You are essential to me. You are like a limb, an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.

(I know it's soon to say this, but I got to sleep with you in my mind every night. That has to count for something.)

I stare at the paper.

"Who's it from?" Mom asks. "You're smiling like a manic. Like you're in love."

"I'm not in love." I snap. "And it's from Ross."

She rips the letter from my hand and reads the whole thing out loud, and I stand there, shifting from foot to foot.

"Oh my god!" Scout gasps. "That's so cute! You guys can write love letters! You have to write him back!"

"Mind your business." I mutter. I take the letter back and go to my room and lock the door. I get a piece of paper and a pen.

I sit at the desk, and I stare at the blank sheet of paper, thinking hard. The words come to me easily.

Ross,

I don't want to turn you down. I know something is brewing in the miles between us, because I go to sleep every night with your gorgeous blue-gray eyes in my mind. That means something, I know it. While you're really sweet, I just got out of a relationship with the guy I thought was Mr. Right. While I don't love him anymore, or care about him, I don't know if I'm ready for a serious relationship. I care about you, but I don't know what way, you know? Like...I don't know if I care about you as a friend, or if I care about you as more. You do make me blush though... I also have to admit that I won't ever forget about you either, and honestly...I miss you too...I don't know if it's the French way yet, but still. There's something here. It's your job to change that, and make me sure.

Miss you,

Zoey Ann Vagner

P.S. Your eyes are like my drug. They're beautiful, really.

I get an envelope and I seal the letter, and I fill out the address, and I go and put it in the mailbox, and then I slip the letter he wrote me into my desk.

Love letters? That's new.