Steele wrote me back.
Staggering, I drop onto the couch and stare at the envelope before opening it. A minute ago, I was dead tired; now, I’m wide awake.
Dear Ava,
I realize I wasn’t supposed to see your letter. And you’re likely pissed at Heather for sending it because, let’s face it, we both know she did, but I’m not disappointed.
In fact, I’m the exact opposite.
If you hadn’t written it, if she hadn’t sent it, I wouldn’t have been forced to examine how I felt about you. And, babe, there are some genuine feelings there.
Do you remember the end of the year party Heather threw last summer? You hid in the pool house nearly the entire time, hating that Heath was forcing you to wear that hideous black and green polka dot bikini. Christ, you hated that thing.
I remember walking in, your back was to me, and you were muttering under your breath. I had no idea it was you those first few seconds, but I remember thinking, “Damn, a girl brave enough to wear this tacky thing has my full attention,” and you did. Not just that day, either, but every day after too.
I’m a fool for not making the first move, then maybe your letter wouldn’t be filled with so much doubt and heartache. I never want to be the reason for your pain, Ava. I want to make you smile, to make you look forward to waking up each day. But mostly, right now, I want to make you fucking sigh my name every goddamn night.
I hope to hear back from you real soon.
Yours,
Steele
Whoa.
Like holy whoa.
I guess I never truly anticipated him responding, but for him to share my feelings? That’s a whole other realm. Excitement rushes through my veins as I hold the letter to my chest.
He likes me.
He cares.
Steele could be mine.
Chapter 4
Steele
Since mailing my letter back to Ava, I’ve watched the postal truck come and go a dozen times. We never know how long it will take for mail to come, and as disappointing as that is, it makes the arrival that much sweeter. Yeah, we could Skype, and eventually, I hope we’ll get to that, but for now, I get the feeling that Ava prefers putting pen to paper. It’s less pressure.
“Package, Lieutenant.” Taking the box, I’m surprised to see Ava’s name with a different mailing address on it.
Sitting behind my desk, I cut through the tape and flip open the sides. Tins of baked goods rest on top, and when I get to the bottom, there’s the fucking swimsuit. In all it’s terrible polka dot glory with a note pinned to it. “Since you like it so much, consider it yours.” I howl with amusement as I drape it across the edge of my desk. It definitely looked better on her.
Another envelope at the very bottom catches my eye; I open it up and remove the letter and pictures she sent along with it. Most are selfies of her being silly. Drinking coffee, reading, lying in bed. But the one that makes me pause is the one of her and I laughing at that damn party. I can see it now, the attraction we share. The attention other boys were giving her, but she only had eyes for me that day.
Dear Steele,
There was never a time when I imagined you could possibly return my feelings, though I hoped for that greatly. I had to read your letter fifty times before the words truly sunk in. And even now, I’m not sure they have.
I’ve crushed on you for so long that I figured I’d grow out of it when I came to college. I’d meet some cute boy, forget about you, and move on. I’d fall in love, he’d ask me to marry him, we’d have babies and live happily ever after.
I was asked out three times after arriving at school by well-meaning sophomores, but none of them hold a candle to you. I was never attracted. Didn’t get butterflies in my belly. That silly way you make me lightheaded and feel on top of the world didn’t happen either.
All I could think about was you.
But you never wrote back.
Honestly, I didn’t think you would. I mean, why should you? I was your little sister’s most hated friend. Why would you give me a second glance?
Then your letter came.
Now, I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.
Is that weird? It should be.
I don’t even know if we’ll click once you come back home. Heck, I’m not even home anymore, and I have no plans to return.
My parents have moved on, Heather hates me, and I was never close friends with anyone else. I have nothing to go back there for.
So, I guess what I’m wondering is, how can we possibly work?
Sorry to be so heavy-handed. We’ve known each other for years, yet now that our feelings are in the open, I feel like we’re complete strangers. I don’t know anything about what you want in the future. I don’t even know what I want.
Do you want marriage and babies? Are you in the Navy for life? What do you see your future looking like?
It’s way too late for these thoughts. Maybe I should go to bed.
Enjoy your goodies.
Night,
Ava
Scratching my head, I’m not entirely sure what to think of her ramblings, but I know exactly what my future holds, and she’s a part of it.
Chapter 5
Ava
Dear Ava,
Anyone ever tell you that you overthink things? Because you are.
How about we start simple. Pretend like we’re complete strangers and go from there. Might help take the pressure off.
Hey! I’m Steele Carter, 29 years old from Los Angeles, California. Currently, a Naval lieutenant based out of San Francisco. I’m a Navy man for life. Joined the day I turned 18 and haven’t looked back. I plan to remain in Intelligence for as long as I’m able.
I aspire to have a family. Wife, as many children as she’ll give me, dog, white picket fence. I want it all, and I won’t stop until I get everything I desire.
What else?
I have a sister who is kind of a witch and turned on her best friend after finding out the boy she was crushing on was interested in the other girl. Now, when I say turned into a witch, I mean she went full-on The Craft witch darkness. Even though the other girl had no idea about the boy. Not excusing the behavior, but at least we know the reason.
I just received word that I’ll be getting some leave soon, and who knows, maybe by the time my next letter is due to you, I’ll be there instead.
Tell me everything you want, Ava, even the little things.
Steele
Blowing out a deep breath, I reread his letter. He didn’t run; I thought he would. I thought maybe he’d feel pressured into returning my feelings or have to pretend to, and I wanted to give him an out with all my heavy talk.
It didn’t work.
Instead, he reciprocated every sentiment I expressed and so much more. He shared with me his dreams that match my own; in fact, he revealed far more than I imagined he would.
Learning about Heather eases some of my misery. For a long time, I struggled with her rejection. All the hurt she brought me and never understanding why was awful.
Staring at the books on my desk, I debate whether to write him back right now or finish studying; it’s a no-brainer. Steele holds far more of my attention than the anatomy books that overwhelm me.
Taking another gulp of my coffee, I begin writing. Responding to him about everything he’s asked of me and what I think of everything he’s said.