"Do you still want her? Even after knowing what she did?"
"I don't know," I said, because I really didn't. Finding this out was a huge shock, something I never expected. "I'd have to think about it," I told him. "But the answer doesn't matter. We're obviously never going to be together."
Austin left after that and I got drunk off my ass, then fell asleep. I didn't handle the news well and still haven't. Ever since I found out, I've been moping around, drinking more than I should, and slacking off on my classes. Guess I'm depressed, but I don't know why. All these months later, I should be over Amber, especially since she has no interest in continuing what we started last May.
I thought that night was special. I thought we shared something that was a hell of a lot deeper than just than sex. I thought we shared a connection, a bond, that most people would be lucky to find after a lifetime of looking, and yet for Amber and me, it was handed to us without even asking. Like a gift from the universe. And then she just threw it away.
What has she been doing all these months? Has she even thought about me? I could ask Kira but I haven't because I'm trying to forget about Amber and move on with my life. But no matter what I do, I can't forget her or that night we spent together.
My phone rings as I'm taking a sip of my beer. It's Allison, my so-called girlfriend. We've been going out for over a month and I call her my girlfriend but we've never actually gone on a date. I've tried to take her out, but every time I go to pick her up, we end up having sex and never make it out of her apartment. So we basically use each other for sex. And she likes telling people she's dating the lead singer of Vandyl. Those are the only reasons we're together. Oh, and there's also the fact that she reminds me of Amber, not in her personality but with her blond hair and hot body.
I met Allison last September after I'd pretty much given up on ever finding Amber. I'd spent all summer searching for her online, looking up every Amber I could find who lived in New York and was around Amber's age. By the time school started, my life got busier and I couldn't spend as much time searching.
The day I decided to end the search was the day I met Allison. I was at a party and saw this girl. She had her back turned to me and when I saw her long blond hair, the same shade as Amber's, I thought I'd finally found the girl I'd been searching for. I rushed over to her, but when she turned around it wasn't Amber. It was Allison.
Allison immediately recognized me as the lead singer of Vandyl and started flirting with me, then touching me, kissing me. We ended up back at her place. I hadn't had sex since Amber, which is the longest I'd gone without it since I first started doing it at the age of 16, and yet I didn't want to do it with Allison. For some reason, I felt a loyalty to Amber, like we belonged to each other, and I couldn't betray her by being with someone else. But as Allison continued to kiss me and touch me and led me to her bed, I realized how stupid it was to keep waiting for Amber. So I did it, but when I had sex with Allison, it was Amber I was imagining. I still do.
"Hey," I say, answering the call.
"Hey, babe, what are you doing?"
"Just hanging out, having a beer." I hear music blaring in the background. "Are you at a party?"
"Yeah, but it's boring. I'm gonna come over and see you. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"I don't know. I'm kind of wiped out from classes this week. Why don't you just come over tomorrow?"
"Because I need you now. And I'm busy tomorrow."
I'm taking that to mean she'll be with some other guy. I've recently suspected that she's been seeing someone else. My depressed attitude since finding out about Amber has angered Allison. She doesn't know why I'm depressed but she has no patience for it. She's head cheerleader for the football team at my college and could have any guy she wants so she's not going to stick around if I continue to act depressed or turn down her sexual offers.
"Then come over," I tell her, figuring I could use her company. We haven't had sex since last weekend, which was the last time I saw her.
I return to the living room, where Kira and Austin are kissing. "You guys can go. Allison just called me. She's coming over."
Austin groans under his breath. He hates Allison. He hasn't actually come out and said that but he's made comments about how she's using me. But I'm using her too so he really shouldn't judge her for that.
There's a knock on the door.
"Shit, that was fast," I say, going to get the door. But when I open it no one's there. I look left and right, trying to see through the darkness. "Anyone there?" I step outside and my foot slips on something. It's an envelope. I pick it up and go back inside. "That's weird," I say, closing the door.
"Where's Allison?" Austin asks.
"I don't know. She's not out there, and her car's not there."
"Then who knocked on the door?" Kira asks.
"Whoever left this behind." I hold up the envelope. It's a regular business-size envelope made of thick beige paper. My name is written on the front but there's no stamp and no return address.
"What is it?" Austin asks.
"Hell if I no but it can't be good. Who drops off an envelope late at night?" I sit down on the recliner, staring at the envelope and my name, written in fancy cursive using thick black ink. For a moment I think maybe it's from Amber. She said she'd write letters. She said letters were romantic.
"Are you gonna open it?" Austin asks.
"Whoever wrote this has good handwriting." I show them the writing on the front. "Check this out. It's like calligraphy, or whatever they call that scripty type."
"Wait a minute." Kira steps up to get a closer look at it. "That looks like..."
"What?" Austin asks her. "It looks like what?"
"Nothing," she says. "You should open it," she says to me.
From her reaction, I'm starting to think my earlier thought was true. Could it really be from Amber? Does Kira know about the letters? Did Amber tell her?
My heart beats faster, knowing it's possible that the letter I'm holding is from the girl I've wanted since she left my side six months ago. The girl I think about and dream about and spent months searching for.
There's no way it's from her. But what if it is?
Chapter Nine
Dylan
I rip open the envelope and pull out a piece of paper. It's folded in thirds, and as I unfold it, I see there's writing on both sides. It's the same handwriting that was on the envelope.
"What is it?" Austin asks.
"A letter," I say, smiling when I flip it over and see her name. She ended the letter with Love, Amber.
Holy shit! It's really from her. But why now? Why did she wait so long?
"A letter?" Austin says. "Who the hell writes letters anymore?"
I hear Kira whisper, "Let him read it."
I tune them out as I focus on the letter. Turning it back to the front, I read the first page, devouring each word.
It reads,
Dearest Dylan,
Let me start by saying I'm very sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, and I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you since. I wanted to, but I was afraid. Afraid that you'd be mad at me for leaving the way I did, but even more afraid that we could never replicate what we felt that night should we ever try to date.
I don't know if you remember me telling you this that night, but I never do things like that. I only did because I felt something for you. Something strong that I couldn't explain. And it was more than just physical. There was something else between us but I didn't trust that it was real. I still don't.
But I want to find out.
My eyes linger on those last words at the bottom of the page, my heart pounding with excitement, anticipation, a newfound energy that I haven't felt in months. Is she saying she wants to try this? Try being together? I flip the page and continue reading as fast as I can.
I know you're with someone else now and I don't want to harm that relationship. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry and that I still think about you, and always will
.
I'm not asking for your forgiveness because I know I don't deserve it. I hurt you, and for that I am sorry. I completely understand if you never want to speak to me again. But if your current relationship doesn't work out, and if you think there's any chance you might want to see where this could go, then I want to try.
For months I've stayed away, not wanting to ruin the memory of that perfect night. But now I'm willing to risk it for a chance with you. A chance to make even more memories, ones just as good, if not better, than that night. I've never stopped thinking about you and the night we spent together.
But if we do this, I want to take it slow. I want the romance. The love story. The letters. You may think I'm crazy and maybe I am, but it's what I want. If we do this, I don't want to mess it up. And if it lasts, I want a story. A story we can tell for years to come.
I'm leaving it up to you, Dylan. If and when you're ready, write me back. Tell me how you feel. What you want. And I promise, this time, I won't leave you without answers.
I want this, Dylan. The question is...do you?
Love, Amber
My eyes shift from the letter to the floor as I think about what I just read. She wants this. She wants ME. After all these months, I was starting to think I was the only one who felt something that night. I thought I was the only one who wanted more. The only one who wanted to see what could happen if we let ourselves go there. And now I find out she feels the same way.
She wrote me a letter. Does that mean what I think it means? If so, I feel the same way. If I told anyone that, they'd say it's not possible to feel that way after just meeting someone, but I wouldn't expect people to understand. It's something you have to experience to believe.
Kira says something quietly in the background, then I hear Austin's voice but I'm not listening, my attention focused on the piece of paper in my hand.
"She said she'd write letters," I mutter to myself. "She said if she ever found him, she'd write him letters. She said it's romantic." I let out a laugh. "The girl is fucking crazy. And yet..."
I burst from my chair and run to my bedroom. I have to write her back. Right now. She has to know how I feel. She has to know I want this just as much as she does.
After searching my desk and every drawer in my room, I can't find any paper, at least not any decent paper. I need good paper. I remember Amber telling me that night how important the paper is, and the pen. She said the pen and paper can be almost as romantic as the words written.
The girl has her head in the clouds and yet I love that about her. I love that she's dreamy and romantic. I love that she has these ridiculous dating rules and that she's only applied them to me. I guess I can't say for sure if it's only me but I know she didn't do those things with Matt, the guy she used to date. I assume they broke up or she wouldn't have wrote me the letter. When I used to hear Kira talk about Amber and Matt, it sounded like they dated like any other couple. There were no letters. No old-fashioned romance. Was it because Amber didn't see a future with Matt? Does doing this mean she sees a future with me?
Racing back to the living room, I search the side table next to the couch. There's no paper, and the only pens are cheap ones that barely write. Next I go to the kitchen, searching every drawer, only to find scratch paper and more cheap pens.
I hurry back to living room. "We don't have any paper." I run my hand through my hair. "Shit."
"What do you need paper for?" Austin asks.
"For his letter," Kira answers. So she knows about the letters. I assumed she did, given that Amber is her best friend. "Can you use notebook paper?" Kira asks me. "I'm sure you have some of that."
"No." I shake my head. "It has to be real paper. Nice paper. Like old-fashioned paper."
"Old-fashioned paper?" Austin asks as I search the side table once more. "What the fuck you talking about?"
The doorbell rings and I stare at it, wondering if it's her. But she wouldn't just show up here. She wants me to make the next move.
The bell rings again and I hear Allison's voice, "Dylan, hurry your ass up. It's cold out here."
I race over to the door and fling it open. Allison's there, wearing a trench coat, which means she's in a hurry for sex. She always shows up in that coat when she wants a quickie. From past experience, I know that under the coat is a bra and panties, probably black, her favorite color.
As I stand here looking at her, I'm realizing how shitty this arrangement is. She doesn't give a damn about me and never has. I've called her, asked her out, tried to get to know her, but all she wants from me is sex. It's meaningless and emotionless and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of her and I'm tired of feeling shitty when I'm with her.
"Hey." I block the door so she can't come in. "Tonight's off. Actually, we're done."
"What?" she asks, a shocked look on her face.
"We're done. I don't want to do this anymore."
She huffs. "Are you drunk?"
"I've had some beers, but no, I'm not drunk. I'm just not interested."
"Every guy's interested in this." She opens her trench coat, showing off her black push-up bra and matching panties. I admit, she's hot, but even so, she doesn't excite me the way Amber does. No girl has ever excited me that much.
"What are THEY doing here?" Allison asks, closing her coat as she notices Austin and Kira behind me.
"We were just hanging out," I say. "Now could you leave? I have things to do."
She huffs again. "Fine. I was cheating on you anyway."
"Yeah, I figured you were. Have a good life, Allison." I shut the door, not feeling even the tiniest shred of regret or sadness or guilt over breaking up with her.
"Well, we're going to head out," Kira says, walking up to me.
"Don't tell her it's coming," I say, referring to the letter I'm going to write.
"I won't." She hugs me, then turns back to Austin. "You ready?"
"Yeah." He seems confused by what happened tonight. I'll explain it to him later. He gives me a wave. "Talk tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll call ya."
As they leave out the front door, I go in the kitchen and find my keys and wallet and hurry out to my car. As I'm backing out of the driveway, I'm forced to stop, blocked by Austin's pickup.
I beep at him and he rolls down the window and yells, "Where you going?"
"To the store. I gotta get paper."
"It's after midnight. Nothing's open."
"The drugstore's open twenty-four hours. Now get your big-ass truck out of the way."
He backs up onto the street and I continue out of the driveway and speed down to the drugstore. I hope they have what I need.
Thank God Van's out of town. If he saw me right now, racing to find paper and a pen to write a letter, he'd give me shit about it from now until the end of time.
At the drugstore, I find the office supply section but the only type of paper they have is printer paper. Does anyone even sell paper to write on anymore? Maybe they don't. Nobody writes letters so there's nobody to buy that stuff.
"Need some help?" a girl asks as she sees me frantically searching the shelves.
I move some folders aside. "Um, no, I don't think you have what I'm looking for."
"Dylan?" The girl steps closer to me as I continue to search the shelves. "It's Macy."
I was crouched down, searching the bottom shelf, but I stand up and turn to face her. "Macy. How's it going?"
Macy and I dated for a month my junior year. It was nothing serious but she took the break-up hard. After I ended things, she stalked me on campus for two months until I started dating someone else.
"I'm good." She leans her shoulder against the shelf in front of me and I notice she's wearing a navy shirt with the store logo on it. I didn't know she worked here. Then again, I don't come here that often. "I went to your concert last week. I love that song you wrote. One Night? It's like my favorite song ever."
"Thanks. A lot of people seem to like it." I glance to the right and jingle my keys in my ha
nd, hoping she'll get that I'm in a hurry.
"Who was it about?" she asks.
Girls ask me this all the time and I always give them the same answer. "It wasn't about anyone. It was just a song."
She pouts. "Come on. You can tell me. We're friends. I wouldn't tell anyone."
We're not friends. And Macy loves to spread gossip. That was one of the reasons I broke up with her.
"Sorry, but there's nothing to tell. I didn't write it based on anyone I know." I get my phone out and check the time. "Macy, I can't really talk right now. I'm in a hurry."
"Where you going? To a party?"
"No, I just have stuff to do. Homework."
I should've gone with the party lie. It's more believable than homework. Anyone who knows me knows I don't do homework on Friday nights.
She turns toward the shelf. "So what are you looking for? Printer paper?"
I was really hoping she would leave, but given that she works here, maybe she could help.
"I was trying to find a different kind of paper," I tell her. "Like the kind you'd write a letter on? You know what I'm talking about?"
"A letter?" She scrunches up her face. "Who writes letters?"
"My grandmother," I say, adding a smile to better sell my story. "She writes me letters and I told her I'd write back but I didn't have the right kind of paper."
"Aww." She tilts her head. "That's so sweet you write to your grandmother. See? This is why I liked you so much, Dylan. It's too bad things didn't work out for us." She goes to touch my arm but I take a step back before she can.
"So anyway, do you guys sell that kind of paper?"
She straightens up. "No, but we have cards. Why don't you get her a card?"
"Because a card's not a letter. It needs to be a letter."
"You can write in a card. Just get one of those cards that are blank inside."
"You sure that's all you have? You don't have any paper in the back room or anything?"
"No. What's out is out. Follow me." She walks off. "I'll show you the cards."
I guess a card will have to do. Or maybe I should wait until tomorrow when more stores are open.
One Night Page 8
