“Yeah—same with California. My place is what the realtors like to call ‘cozy.’ I think I can lay down and touch every wall of my living room at once.”
She chuckled. “Brooke—she’s my soulmate, in a friend kind of way. I don’t have many friends. I don’t think Brooke does either anymore. When we hang out, or talk, there’s no pretense, if that makes sense. I’d do anything for her.”
“Not that you’d have reason to believe this, but... I would, too,” I admitted.
“I do believe it,” Whitney acknowledged quietly. Hope expanded in my chest—Brooke clearly hadn’t thrown me under the bus too badly with her friend.
“Whitney, I don’t know how to get her to talk to me. I think part of her wants to, and I don’t think that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I screwed up when we were teens, and I asked for more than she was able to give me. And I screwed up again at the reunion. But I’m not asking her for anything now. I really do just want to be there for her.”
“What did you do before when she wouldn’t talk to you? Back in school? Surely you pissed her off a time or two in ten years.”
I thought for a minute, my mind reaching back into the past. “I wrote her notes.”
Her reply came almost instantly.
“Then write her notes.”
I thought about Noah and his letters. “Whitney, do you think—would Brooke mind if I had your address? I think I have a plan.”
12
BROOKE
Fun Fact #41: The U.S. Postal Service delivers over 80 billion pieces of mail each year.
Iwas about to leave for my third counseling visit with Cheryl when Whit came in the front door, leaning down to ruffle Maple’s copper head when she bounded her way.
“Mail call,” her voice rang out. I looked up from my spot on the couch. I certainly wasn’t expecting anything, but I could see from the twinkle in Whit’s eye that something had come for me. She dropped an envelope in my lap.
“California?” I questioned her, taking in the return address. My heart gave a funny little flutter when I saw the name.
“I think you should open it,” she encouraged.
I unfolded several pages of scrawled handwriting and smoothed them out in front of me.
Dear Brooke,
I got your address from Whitney. I hope that’s okay. I meant what I said on the phone—I miss you, and I missour friendship. Here’s hoping you’ll give me another chance. I’m going to try to earn it by writing you this letter and updating you on the last five years of my life. I hope you’ll read it, and maybe even respond. If not, even though it’ll kill me, I promise I’ll leave you alone for good.
I’m turning 23 today, so here is a list of 20 updates on my life, followed by 3 questions I have for you. Here goes:
1. My 18th was my loneliest birthday–I’d just moved to California and moved into my dorm. My roommate Robert had never even seen The Goonies. Can you imagine?
2. The first time I ever got drunk was on a bottle of Jägermeister. I spent the whole next day hugging porcelain. I stick to beer, now.
3. I still don’t like cake. Popsicles for life!
4. Grape is still the uncontested best flavor of jam. There’s this hipster brunch place near me that has like 18 different varieties of jellies and jams, and I’ve tried a few. Nothing beats grape.
5. I actually eat sushi now. I know you’ll be shocked that I’ve gotten over my fish aversion.
6. I have 1 tattoo.
7. One of the first things I learned when I moved here was how to surf. I still surf at least once a week.
8. I never graduated from college. I dropped out to become a firefighter. I’m sure you can guess why.
9. Every firefighter in my station has a nickname. One of my buddies is called Wreck, after this time he heroically used the Jaws of Life to save this woman from her car before it went over an embankment.
