P.S. I Like You(63)

I’d be fine. I’d be fine.

At first I thought I’d just march up to him and tell him who I was, but that wasn’t me, that wasn’t us … not that there was an us.

Sometime in the middle of fourth period I knew that the way to tell him was in a letter, tucked carefully beneath the Chemistry desk. Then he’d have time to process it, to think about it. He wouldn’t have to give an immediate reaction. Maybe it was another way of protecting myself, but it felt right.

I wasn’t going to risk Sasha seeing me write that letter though, so I pulled out my clean white sheet right there in the office where I was supposed to be sorting mail into teachers’ boxes. And I began writing the letter. I started it how I had never started one of these letters before. With his name.

Cade,

Hi. As you can see, I know who you are. A couple weeks ago, I was delivering some packets to Mr. Ortega and saw you writing to me. I was shocked, and to be honest, horrified. If you knew who I was, you’d understand why. We don’t get along very well. Mostly because I hold grudges. Even if they’re based off of misunderstandings, apparently. (I didn’t know this about myself until recently.) I guess I want to start by saying, I’m sorry for that. I’ve come to know you through the letters first, which have always brought me so much joy that I should’ve known that the person writing them was someone who would both challenge me and understand me. And then I came to know you outside of the letters, and you surprised me. In so many good ways. I’m not sure why you stopped taking my letters or writing me back, and I hope you take this one or else I’ll be forced to be brave and say this all to your face. Don’t make me do that. But I hope whatever the reason you stopped writing me is that it’s just another one of our misunderstandings. (There’s a song in there somewhere. Do you want to try your hand at writing it?) So now is the part where I tell you who I am so that you can be horrified.

Lily Abbott

I folded up the letter, not even wanting to reread it because that would ensure I wouldn’t give it to him. I tucked it in my pocket and tried to forget about it until Chemistry.

In Chemistry, I couldn’t free myself of the letter fast enough. I waited for a moment when neither Lauren nor Sasha were paying attention to me, and slipped it in place. As I pulled my hand back, I felt the edges of a new piece of paper. I sucked in a tiny breath and freed it. A letter. After a week, he’d written me a letter.

As I tried to carefully unfold it, I ripped a corner. I forced my hands to be still and finished, flattening the paper onto my desk.

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing you. Here’s the thing. I really enjoy writing you and you’re great and funny and smart, but then I started liking this girl, a girl who challenges me like no one before her has, and writing you felt a little like cheating on her. Even though she and I are not together. And you and I are not together. But still. This began feeling untrue to myself, and to her. I should’ve told you last week instead of just dropping off like that. She’s not quite convinced I’m a good guy yet, but I hope she will be soon. Wish me luck.

The blood slowly drained from my face. This letter could mean one of two things. One, it meant that Cade liked me. Me. The real-life version of me. We had been spending some time together, right?

But then there was the other possibility—that he’d fallen for someone else entirely. After all, these letters were me. And if he fell for the real me, shouldn’t he have also fallen for the letter-writing me?

I was torn. Did I take my letter back and wait a few more days, see if I saw him around with another girl? Or did I leave my letter there and hope for the best either way?

I left it, much to my racing heart’s objections, because if he did like some other girl, this was my best chance to win him over.

After school, I showed Isabel the latest letter and she squealed.

“So you think this is a good thing?” I asked.

“He likes you. Go talk to him.”

My head whipped around, her statement making me think he was somewhere in the vicinity. He wasn’t, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“He’s probably at baseball practice,” Isabel said. “I think they started pre-season training today. Go find him there. Wait for him.”

“I left him a letter. He’ll read it tomorrow. Until then I’m going to eat an entire bucket of Rolos and slip into a food coma.”

“Do Rolos cause food comas? All that sugar would produce the opposite effect, don’t you think?” she asked as though I was seriously going to eat an entire bucket of Rolos.

“After the high there would surely be a crash.”

“But that would take too long.”

“You’re right. Thank goodness you’ve talked some sense into me.”

“Another reason you keep me around.”

“One of a million.”

She squeezed my hand. “Tomorrow. Big things will happen tomorrow.”





I saw Cade in the parking lot the next morning. He was walking and talking with a guy friend, his smile bright enough to stop traffic, or hearts, mine being the proof of that. How was I going to continue to see him if the day ended badly?

“There’s Cade.” Ashley waved but he didn’t see her so she started to roll down her window.

I grabbed her shoulder. “Please don’t.”