by RH Tucker
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I finally tear open the envelope and pull out a letter, handwritten on notebook paper. I see his name at the bottom and run my finger over it. After staring at his name for what feels like hours, my eyes finally jump to the top of the page.
Jen,
I know you remember Teddy Grahams. I saw you smile when I brought it up. What you don’t know is what I was thinking when you told me about your future husband. I had only recently realized I had a crush on you. And then you said your future husband would always buy you Teddy Grahams. I remember thinking I wanted that to be me. Not so much the husband part, after all we were eight, but I remember wanting to be the one who got you them. I remember thinking why you couldn’t see that I liked you, even if at the time it made no sense, because I was so nervous around you when you brought up boys and kissing and things like that. Any other time, if we were playing outside, or just hanging out watching a movie, I was fine. When it came to “relationship” stuff, I was in over my head. But I knew what I wanted. And that was you.
So, back to Teddy Grahams. You remember how I always saved the last one for you? In my head, I thought it was this magical thing I was doing. I thought you’d figure it out. I always made sure that no matter how many I ate (sorry for eating most of the bag most of the time), that as long as I saved the last one, as long as I didn’t eat the entire thing and made sure you got the last one, that you’d see I liked you. That I saved it for you, because I thought you were special. I still think you’re special.
I know I’ve screwed up countless times and as much as I wish I can take stuff back, I know I can’t. But like I told you, I remember you. I’ll always remember you. You’re engrained in my mind, like a scar I’ll never be able to get rid of, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. So no, I’m not your husband. And because of stupid mistakes, I don’t know if I’ll ever even get the chance to have any kind of relationship with you, be it husband, boyfriend, or even just a regular friend. But I’ll still always get you Teddy Grahams. On your birthday, when you’re feeling down, as your wedding present to whoever the lucky bastard is that marries you. I’ll always save the last one for you, because you deserve it. You deserve everything.
Lucas
I stare at the letter, running my fingers of the words, feeling the imprint made in the paper. I always wondered why he saved the last one for me. I just figured it was Lucas being my best friend. And even if that’s all it was, I loved it because he was thinking about me. To find out he thought I was special and that’s why he was saving it for me, there’s a piece of my heart that overflows with joy. But only a piece.
Because that was years ago. Even if he’s giving me this gift and letter now, things have changed so much. After my meltdown with Nancy and talking to Emma, I know that one day I want to find someone to love. But that day is a long way off and it can’t be Lucas. It can’t be. Because what if it is and something happens―which always seems to between us―and it ends? Right now, we’re barely friends, but there’s still a connection of some sort there. But if something happens and we couldn’t be anything anymore? I couldn’t take that.
So, I’ll cherish this gift. I’ll reread it time and time again, like I’m doing right now, knowing that we do have something between us, but it can never be anything that I hoped it once could be.
As I get to the bottom of the letter, I run my finger over his name again. A small drop of water hits the page and I realize I’m crying.
Chapter 27
Lucas
I didn’t think Jen was going to burst into my room after she got the gift basket, wrap her arms around me, and tell me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. I mean, sure, that would’ve been the best-case scenario, but I knew something like that probably wasn’t going to happen. I hoped she would’ve called or texted. Not even to thank me, because I didn’t need that, but just to let me know she got it. Or that she read the letter. But I don’t get a phone call. Or a text. As a matter of fact, an entire week goes by and I don’t see or hear from her at all. Nothing.
I deliberately take my time when I go outside to check the mail, or jump in Rich’s truck, looking over at her house, checking … hoping that I see some glimpse of her. But other than Nancy waving at us a couple times as she leaves the house, you would never think anyone else lives there.
As much as it twists up my stomach, wondering if I even did the right thing, I know have to try something else. Something that will make her see that I never stopped being in love with her. So even though it sucks that I don’t hear anything from her, I take the week to gather my thoughts and figure out what I can do.
I have to search the greater Los Angeles area in different thrift shops, garage sales, art and craft stores, or any other place I can think of that will have the supplies I need. Do you know how difficult it is to find tiny lights that look like stars? Really freaking hard.
I stop by Sam’s Deli, the deli that Jackson’s dad owns and where he’s working now. It’s my third time here this week, since Jackson says it gets really boring. Plus, he hooks me up with free sandwiches.
“What’s up, Buzz Lightyear?” he calls out, laughing as he slices meat behind the counter.
“Very funny.”
The deli is a small set up. It has essentials like bread and milk, but it’s main source of income is the sandwich stand. With two tables in the store, and two tables outside, it’s like a little sandwich shop but people can buy everyday necessities, too.
“How’s the Galaxy Quest going?”
He’s been making jokes about what I’m doing ever since I told him. “I found a glowing planet today out in West Covina.”
“You should’ve just painted, like, a foam ball or something with glow in the dark paint.”
“I thought I was going to have to, but as I was looking for some more lights I found the globe. So, happy accident.”
“You’re crazy.”
I lift my shoulders and grab a small bag of chips, waving it at Jackson, and he nods. Behind him, his dad walks through double doors, his apron covering his clothes. Jackson just wears jeans and a T-shirt, but his dad keeps on a white apron and one of those old-timey envelope hats, which makes him look like a butcher. The last time I was in, Mr. Lawrence gave me the history of the hats, which evidently are called ‘soda jerk’ hats. Jackson chuckled while I listened, making me believe Jackson must’ve heard the story multiple times, but he seems like a nice guy.
“Hey, Mr. Lawrence.” I wave to him, before opening the bag of chips.
“Lucas, it’s Sam, remember?” He gives me a friendly smile.
“Right, sorry.”
I hadn’t met either of Jackson’s parents before he started working at the deli. His mom, Dolores, works at the deli part time and is a real estate agent the other half of the time.
“So, you need help with any of that stuff?” Jackson asks.
I arch an eyebrow. He’s been cracking jokes all week and I know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way, but I am slightly taken aback by his offer. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs as he slices turkey. “I know I’m busting your balls, but I got to thinking about it and …” He stops slicing and averts his gaze.
“What?”
“Dude, what you’re doing? Not to get all girly on you, but it’s nice. You know?” He scans the shop, meeting my eye line for a moment, before looking back down at the turkey. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to find someone I feel like that for.”
“Jacks, come on, man. Of course, you will.”
“I don’t know,” he responds, his face seemingly defeated. “I mean, look at me, Luc. Look around. This is my future.”
“What are you talking about? Your dad owns this place. He made it from nothing. And look at him, your mom’s smoking hot.”
“Gross, man.” He wrinkles his nose at me and I laugh.
“Seriously, though, you’re gonna be fine. Plus, if nothing else, I’ll support you by always
buying my sandwiches from you.”
He smirks. “Thanks. Anyways, I just meant to say it’s cool, what you’re doing. I know I gave you crap in the beginning, but I really hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Here, on the house.” He hands me a sandwich.
My eyes flash to his dad, standing a few feet away, organizing a shelf. He rolls his eyes at his son, and Jackson looks back at him as if to say he didn’t know he couldn’t give away free sandwiches. Sam gives me a smiling nod.
“Thanks.”
I hang out at the deli another hour, just passing the time with Jackson, and wait for him to get off work. His dad let’s him go early, so we head over to my house and pick up all the supplies I’ve been storing in my garage before we make our way over to Jen’s backyard. I asked Nancy earlier in the day if I could set something up on their patio and she said it was fine. I also wanted to make sure Jen wasn’t going to be home, and she told me Jen got off work at nine. Apparently, she got a job at some makeup place.
I hang large sheets from the patio’s ceiling outside, which is shaped like a hanging canopy tent. Once the sheets are set up, I have an extended electric cord and begin to string up the small lights. They almost look like Christmas lights, but they’re smaller than that and they sparkle on and off every few seconds.
In addition to the globe, which I hang in the middle, I have other plastic orbs I’ve painted to look like planets. It’s small inside the tent, but after everything’s set up, I take a look around and nod in approval.
“Wow, this looks awesome,” Jackson says.
“Right?”
“You guys built something like this when you were kids?”
I shake my head. “We just had a basic sheet hanging from her bed, or sometimes we’d hang it between a couple chairs and her couch in the living room. It was for this game she liked playing.”
He looks down at his phone and checks the time. “It’s almost nine. I should probably get out of here.”
“Yeah, okay.” I give him a fist bump. “Thanks again, man. I don’t know if I would’ve gotten it all set up if you weren’t here.”
“No worries. Hope it goes the way you want it to.”
“Me too.”
Jackson takes off and I grab a patio chair, bringing it inside the tent, taking a seat. Now I have to wait and hope.
Chapter 28
Jen
I pull into my driveway about nine thirty and look over at Lucas’ house. It’s what I’ve been doing every day this week, ever since his gift and letter. And just like every other time I’ve looked over at his house, wondering what he’s doing, I shake the thought from my mind and try to remember why I won’t … no, why I can’t feel the things I once did for him. If things ever changed, I know I’d never recover.
As I walk inside, I see that Nancy’s already in her spot, watching TV. Today was my second day at my new job, which is a cute little makeup boutique and I really like it. It’s not super busy and I get discounts on some of the products.
“Hey, baby,” Nancy calls out to me. “How’d it go today?”
“It was fine,” I answer, leaning against the wall. “Although, we had these old ladies come in and wanted samples of every color blush we carry. I told them we only carried certain samples and then they threw this huge fit, wanting to speak to the manager. I thought I was going to get fired.”
“Jen, you didn’t do anything wrong. Why would they fire you?”
“I don’t know.” I look away, feeling embarrassed. “It’s my first job. I don’t know how these things work.”
She laughs. “Well, what’d your manager say?”
“The same thing I did. They looked like they wanted to murder her, but Ginger just folded her arms, telling them she thought they should leave, and they if they wanted free things, they should check the trash.”
“Nice.” Nancy smiles widely.
“Yeah.”
I’m not sure if I want to sit down and watch a couple episodes with Nancy or just head to my room, but before I can decide, my phone goes off.
Buttface: Hey, you home?
I smile at the phone for two reasons. One, because it’s Lucas and as much as I try to fight all the emotions I’m feeling, knowing it will probably only lead to heartache, I love that he’s texting me. And two, I need to remember to change his contact info back to his name.
Jen: Just got here. What’s up?
Buttface: Can we talk?
Jen: idk…
I bite my bottom lip, wondering if this is a good idea. Yes, I’ve wanted to see him since the letter, but seeing him means I’ll be face to face with him. Being that close would definitely not be a good idea if I plan on sticking to my decision.
Buttface: Pls???
I try to defuse my anxiety with a joke.
Jen: As long as you promise you don’t have any more Teddy Grahams. I don’t think I’ll be needing any for a while.
Buttface: Didn’t you read the letter?
I bite my lip. Not out of nervousness but remembering his words.
Jen: Yes
Buttface: Then you know I can’t keep that promise. I’ll ALWAYS get you Teddy Grahams :)
Great, now not even biting my lip can contain my smile.
Jen: Fine. When and where?
Buttface: Your backyard. Now ;)
I look up from my phone and see Nancy smiling at me.
“What’s going on?” I ask her with a grin. “Are you two working together or something?”
She shakes her head. “All I know is he’s been back there for hours doing something. He just asked if it was okay if he set something up. I have no idea what it is.”
I look away, down at my phone, and then to the ground. My smile falters and I knit my brows together. “Nancy, this is no good.”
“What’s no good?”
“I think I know what he’s trying to do, but I can’t … I can’t …”
“Jen, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But I think you owe it to yourself to be happy, don’t you?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
I take a deep breath, finally admitting it to myself. At least, partially. “People change. People leave. That’s what they do. And if he ever did that, I don’t think I could recover from it.”
I don’t hear her get off the couch, but both of her hands are on my shoulders now. “For the record, I don’t think that Lucas would do that. But, if that’s how you really feel, then you should tell him that. At least let him know where your heart’s at.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You might be hurting him more by giving him false hope.”
And those are the words I hold on to as I make my way out to my backyard: false hope. I cling to them, as if they are a life raft and I’m being thrown around in a torrential storm in the ocean, because it’s the only thing I have. But it’s not because it’s true. It’s not false hope that I’d be giving him if I don’t tell him he needs to stop. It’s heartbreak. And it’s not his, it’s mine. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t get past it. I can’t think of any other outcome then what I’ve faced before. Then what he’s shown me before.
For a brief moment my decision is resolute. I know I have to tell Lucas to stop whatever it is he’s trying to do. But the moment flies into the night sky as I step on our patio and see an enormous sheet hanging from the patio ceiling. There’s a light shining inside, and I can see the shadow of a person inside the hanging tent.
I walk slowly around it, looking for an entrance, and then see where two ends meet. Walking inside, I’m blown away. It looks magical. Tiny little lights hang above and there are little glowing orbs. In the middle of the tent is a hanging earth. And standing underneath is Lucas.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Wow.” I cover my mouth. My eyes bounce around the tent and lights, then find his face, softly lit from them. “What is this?”
; “You don’t remember?” He smirks, while I stare at him, confused. “Well, it’s not exactly the same as when we were younger, but I thought I’d enhance it a little bit.” He pulls out his phone and places it on the chair he was sitting on, but not before he starts playing a song. I don’t know what I expect, maybe one of his favorite country songs? What I don’t expect to play is what does; “You and Me” by Lifehouse.
“Do you remember?” He looks at me, raising a hand, silently asking for mine.
I swallow nervously, bobbing my head that I do. I close my eyes and remember it like it was yesterday.
We were in my room, playing Space Adventure. Again, not a very clever or original name, but it’s what I called it. It was my game to get away, though he never knew that part. I liked to play it on days when I remembered my mom and wanted to just leave. Leave the house, the city, and the world. I wanted to visit the universe and forget about all the sad things that I couldn’t ever seem to forget. I played it by myself in the beginning. I don’t know when or how, but somewhere along the line, Lucas started joining me.
We’d get under a sheet and pretend like we were flying off on a grand space adventure. We’d visit Mars or Jupiter or make up entire other worlds and galaxies. Like Flowertopia, or Eggstadian, which was a planet covered entirely in eggs shells. You had to walk on your tiptoes, lest you broke all the shells you stepped on, and if you did that, the monster known as the Chomper Bot would come alive and we’d have to run for our lives.
But one day, we were playing, and I invented a new world; The World of Dances. I remember Lucas’s scowl when I told him the name.
“That’s stupid, Jen.”
“No, it’s magical,” I argued. “The World of Dances is a magical place where girls go when they get married.” I ran out of the tent, grabbed my iPod and headphones, bringing them back in. I plugged one earbud in my ear and handed him the other.
