Love, Creekwood (Simonverse #3.5)(4)



Blue





FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: SEP 23 AT 8:19 PM

SUBJECT: PRETTY SURE I MISS YOU MORE

Abraham. Romeo. Greenfeld. I think I need a minute here. (Not for that. Mind out of the gutter. I just have to, like, catch my breath. Or something.) I mean, THAT? That was a love letter. Bram, I’m blushing. This is junior year all over again. I feel like my secret email boyfriend just told me he imagines me fantasizing about sex (HEY BLUE, REMEMBER THAT?).

I swear, everyone thinks you’re so freaking innocent, but then you sign into gmail and it’s like BAM. Innuendo. Sex grenade. How little sleeping we did?? I mean, you’re not wrong, but WOW. And the best part’s how you had this whole food itinerary, with the Dinosaur Bar-B-Que restaurant and the hipster ice cream parlor. Which I’m sure are delicious (who doesn’t love eating dinosaurs?). But peanut butter toast and never leaving your dorm room tasted pretty great, too. ?

A FEW IMPORTANT CORRECTIONS. First things first: “I always wanted to stumble into someone like you.” That, sir, is no song lyric. It’s a book quote (does this mean there’s a book on this earth you haven’t read yet??). Second things second, shitshow?? Are you saying you don’t need a succulent vase made out of a spray-painted doll’s head?

God, I’m so bad at this. Here I am going on about dinosaurs and YouTube and 5-Minute Crafts, when all I really want is to write is I miss you. Because HOLY SHIT, I MISS YOU. You know, I thought I was fine when I boarded the train. But then you texted me our selfie from Shake Shack, and that was it. That picture. It was just so us, with me looking like I was going to burst out laughing, and you with that deer-in-the-headlights, anime-eyes face you get whenever there’s a straw in your mouth. Bram, it destroyed me. Like, it just hit me all of a sudden how that moment is OVER. And we’ll never, ever get it back. (God, even as I’m writing this, I know it’s so weird and over-the-top. Look at me having an existential crisis over a five-minute pit stop at Shake Shack.)

But I kept thinking about last year, and the year before that, and how being near you was this everyday thing I took completely for granted. And we don’t get to go back. We don’t get to do high school again. And, yeah, I knew that intellectually, but I don’t think I fully processed it until now. I guess being on a literal express train away from you really made it sink in.

So now I’m back in my room with Kellan and his friend Grover (no REALLY), who has a guitar, and can sing, and is currently playing “Hey There Delilah” for the twentieth time. I think he’s trying to teach it to himself. I feel like I should be annoyed, but I’m just so drained. And now that song’s stuck in my head, and Bram, I don’t know if you know the lyrics to that one, but it’s like . . . too freaking relevant. So now I feel like crying again, but I don’t want to do that in front of a bunch of random straight dudes. Maybe I’m not cut out for this whole roommate thing. Like, I want to know who thought it was a good idea to stick a random guy in my room and have him live there.

But mark my words, Greenfeld: We’re going to be Kellan-free for fall break. I will make it my life’s fucking mission.

Twelve more days. God, I miss you. And I love you. I’m, like, preposterously in love with you.

Love,

Simon





FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: SEP 30 AT 11:21 PM

SUBJECT: RE: A QUESTION

I’ve got to say, that’s the weirdest fucking question you’ve ever asked me (AND I LOVE IT). So let’s make sure I’m following this. You want your roommate to leave early for fall break. And for that to happen, you need me (me!) to come up with a list of, and I quote, “clown-centered DC attractions”? WELL THEN.

First of all, Simon, are we sure clown-centered is a thing? Because it looks like we just found a hot new contender for Most Cursed Adjective (you had a good run, moist). Seriously, though, what does that even mean? Clown-centered? Is that a metaphor? Are we talking about GOP senators, or do you mean literal, actual clowns? And if so, WTF?? Do you just really hate your roommate? I have SO MANY QUESTIONS.

But yeah! Happy to see if Molly and Cassie have heard of anything . . . clown-centered. They’re at University of Maryland now, though, which is outside the city. Is that okay, or do you need it to be in DC proper? (Seriously, I am DYING to know what your roommate did to deserve this.) Anyway, texting M and C in a sec, and I’ll report back!

So, other than scheming against your roommate, what on earth are you up to? And how was New York? Leah and I actually heard from Nick this morning, by the way. Can you believe it?? He wanted to know if we’re coming home this weekend (we are, for what it’s worth, in case you were maaaaaybe considering coming down early?).

Anyway, Nick said he talked to Bram, and he got the impression that you two are kind of struggling with the long-distance stuff, I guess? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but I did want to make sure you’re okay. You always seem so cheerful with me, and that’s great, seriously. But I hope you know I’m here if you ever want to talk through the hard stuff. And same with Leah. We both love you so much, Si.

(And in happier Bram news, tell him congrats from me on the game!!)

Anyway, write back soon so I can start sorting through all your clown shit!! MISS YOU!!!

Becky Albertalli's Books