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Official Shepherd Oliver: I see you haven’t read these yet, so I’m probably typing all of this into the void, but whatever. I have to do something, because this is killing me.
Official Shepherd Oliver: You said to me, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” Well, ditto. Fucking ditto, Wren. Christ, do you have any idea how hard it is saying this shit to you right now, after everything you said to me, when you’re not standing right in front of me so I can put my arms around you again, and hold you again, and tell you everything I should have said that I didn’t? Everything I meant to say that came out all wrong, because you know what, Wren? You tie my tongue up in knots too. You always have. So, here you go. Everything I should have said that I didn’t when you came to me at the ballfield the other day and I was an idiot. Alana was never, EVER my first choice. She was just there, when the person I really wanted was 3,000 miles away and I thought she was taken.
Official Shepherd Oliver: That day at the Dip and Twist, when I told you that you were pretty, that’s actually kind of a funny story. We had just won the tournament to take us to the state finals, and my dad naturally brought me to your family’s place to celebrate, like always. We were standing in line, it was a few weeks before 7th grade started, and he said to me, “So, what 7th grade girl do we have our eye on this year?” You were helping your mom out and had just stepped up to the window to hand someone their order. My dad looked down at me staring at you with a big shit-eating grin on my face, and do you know what Simon Oliver said next? “Wren Bennett?” He snorted. LEGIT SNORTED AT ME. Then he said, “She’s out of your league. Aim lower, kid.” You were always out of my league, Wren. I knew from the moment I met you that you were nicer than me, kinder than me, sweeter than me, and better than me. I never deserved even one minute of your time. But you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and after you handed me my sundae, I couldn’t walk away without telling you.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Do you remember my first day of work at the Dip and Twist? It was a week after my 16th birthday, it was a slow Sunday afternoon, it was just the two of us, and you were in charge of training me. I dropped the container of sprinkles three times that afternoon. It was the first time you ever said something sarcastic to me. Honestly, before that point, I thought you hated me, because you’d always walk away whenever I was around and would barely say two words to me. The third time I dropped the sprinkles, you put your hands on your hips and said, “Thank God you don’t do that during games.” And then you quickly apologized for saying something mean, while I laughed the entire time we cleaned up the mess. Do you know why I dropped that container three times that day? Because every time I went to reach for it, you were standing right next to me, and you brushed your arm against mine. I literally blacked out all three times and don’t even remember letting go of that plastic container.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Remember the beach party Megan Pickard threw after homecoming our junior year? You were cleaning up all the plastic Solo cups everyone tossed all over the place, and I came over and helped you. I told you that stupid story from when I was a kid and my sister dared me to pee on the electric fence at my grandparents’ farm. I tried to stop myself from telling that story as soon as the words started tumbling out of my mouth, but you started walking away from me, and I just didn’t want you to go. And then you were standing there in the moonlight with the ocean splashing around your bare feet and ankles, looking up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and I got nervous. I felt the need to repeat the line “It was like sticking my dick on a 9-volt battery” a hundred times, because you were just so pretty, and I just wanted to kiss you. But I didn’t. Because the sound of your laugh made me forget my own name, and I told you about electrocuting my junk instead.
Official Shepherd Oliver: You know how senior year in physics class we were always in the same group for projects, even though it was usually alphabetical by last name? Since Coach Dunham was our teacher, I made a deal with him that I’d drag and rake the infield and re-chalk the lines after every practice for the entire year if he always put us in the same group. Worth it.
