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The first time Lara Jean receives a note she thinks it is a mistake. And she can’t be blamed for that; she’s never received one before. The genuine kind, that is.
(She has only ever been sent notes as a joke. And that happened not once, but twice.)
So when she spots the note sitting there at the bottom of her locker, she picks it up, quietly puts it away in a corner for someone else to find. Because chances are it has nothing to do with her. It’s probably none of her business. And who, really, would send it to someone like her?
That soft-spoken, unobtrusive Song-Covey girl, unlikely to give you the time of the day. With those shy eyes that will rarely meet your gaze.
And that’s the thing, Lara Jean has always remained under the radar. She doesn’t have anything special about her to warrant attention as vastly unfamiliar as this.
Maybe it is sad, really, to think that she is so inexperienced with love’s language that even the most trivial compliment feels like a surreptitious kiss stolen in shadow-filled corners.
(Or, at least, that sort of statement is what Gen would say to her.)
⁎✳☆✧⁎
There’s a second note. And also a third. Then a fourth.
As much as Lara Jean is hopeful that it’s for her, maybe the sender still does not realize that those notes aren’t going where they’re supposed to. It’s a possibility she can’t rule out, in case it’s true. She’d like to save herself the disappointment of finding out the hard way. A crushed dream has never been easy to stomach. She’d rather ease it out of hope’s blinding way instead of watching it grow towards the sun, expectant.
She’d hate to see it wither into dust.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
Lara Jean keeps the notes until one day she decides not to.
At first, she thinks of maybe storing them away, but if they aren’t hers to begin with, then there’s simply no point in keeping them. Try as she might to believe that there’s some beautiful stranger watching her longingly from afar - her, Lara Jean, that odd, curious girl; Lara Jean, the nerd; Lara Jean, who? - it’s reasoning that is more unlikely than not, nine times out of ten.
It’s tempting to confuse reality with a dream. And easy enough, too. But the hard part is when the time comes to separate fact from fiction.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
She keeps one of the notes. One.
Until she bumps into Peter Kavinsky. Kavinsky, the jock, the king of the crowd, Gen’s - well, not anymore. The boy with attractive eyes and even more attractive smile.
She’s walking down the hallways, carrying her textbooks, and hurrying into her next class when she doesn’t notice where she’s going and accidentally runs into Kavinsky. And trips. Nearly falling flat on her face.
“Whoa, are you okay, Covey?” he asks, his warm hands bracing her shoulders to steady her, and she nods, breathless, as she bends down to pick up her schoolwork.
That isn’t the part where she changes her mind. Obviously.
So she’s fixing her stuff up, trying to get it sorted, and there’s Kavinsky now helping her, when he comes upon the note in all its loosely scrawled glory.
His expression is unreadable - not even judgemental - as he scans it, and he isn’t joking or doing anything, but Lara Jean snatches it by reflex, cheeks burning, painfully embarrassed for some reason.
“That was nothing,” Lara Jean says quickly, movements faster than ever so that she can escape Kavinsky’s gaze. “I - I don’t think it was meant for me.” The words slip out before she even has a chance to assess their implications. Their overall effect.
At this, the neutrality in Kavinsky’s face melts away, leaving an endearing sort of confusion in its wake. Like Lara Jean has just told him a statement too complex to fathom, too murky to make sense of. “Not meant - wait, why would you - why would you think that?” Kavinsky says, and at this Lara Jean’s irritation flares, because she doesn’t need this, Peter feeling sorry for her, but it dies as quickly as it was born.
“Why would it?” Lara Jean says in a much quieter voice than expected, but before Kavinsky can respond, Lara Jean is walking away to her next class, head lowered and shoulders tucked into herself.
Maybe if she were another girl, she’d envision someone like Kavinsky responsible for the notes. And the visuals would be something like this: a boy cutting a languid figure against the hood of his car, watching the girl he liked from far away. Writing her notes to let her know how pretty she was.
But as it stands, their orbits don’t align, Kavinsky’s and hers. They aren’t even on the same sphere.
She doesn’t keep the note.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
The notes keep on coming. Every day, without fail.
And this time, they are addressed to her. Which eliminates the ambiguity associated with them in its entirety. Only, she can’t figure out why the person keeps on sending them to her. (Although, she does have an idea of who it is, as idealistic it may seem.)
Kitty thinks it’s love. Chris thinks it’s something of the more handsy persuasion.
Lara Jean doesn’t know what to think.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
One day, they read the epistolary portion of an ancient love story in class, and when it’s Kavinsky’s turn, somehow Lara Jean finds herself being transported somewhere she has never travelled, somewhere far, far away. She chalks it up to the mid-morning heat of the classroom addling her brain, but it’s got more to do with Kavinsky’s voice.
He isn’t particularly enthusiastic or passionate in delivering the sentences, or conveying the easy-to-overlook nuances of the text, but there’s a charm in the way he pronounces words that Lara Jean finds herself to drawn to him.
And in this very moment, he looks like a boy wrought from sunlight - bright and backlit by sun.
It’s still his turn when it’s time to go over the confession scene. (And maybe, just maybe, he is looking at her.)
⁎✳☆✧⁎
One day, another note arrives, and Gen finds out.
Lara Jean isn’t entirely sure of how it happens, but it does, and then before Lara Jean knows it Gen’s holding up the paper in her hand, eyebrows raised in an intentionally mocking manner.
“You sure this is truly meant for you?” Gen says, and it’s a cruel dig, one she is well aware of.
Lara Jean knows how red she must look right now. How angry, how frustrated. Gen’s always loved this. Picking on her. Making fun of her. Making her feel small.
Of course, since it’s Gen, some people slow down as they’re passing by to catch glimpses of the exchange. But most hurry on, not wanting to be caught anywhere near the crossfire of Gen’s sharp tongue.
Because Lara Jean likes to avoid confrontation at all costs, she does what she’s good at: she snatches the note, then she runs.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
Peter watches her go. And he knows it’s Gen’s fault. It goes without saying.
Maybe he shouldn’t involve himself into the business they share together. But he does anyway, because Lara Jean looks genuinely upset by this. And that’s why Peter can’t just stand around and play idle passerby.
He finds Lara Jean out by the edge of the field after having a quick word with Gen, sees her picking at blades of grass beneath her feet. She seems angry - and frustrated - but when Peter makes his presence known, Lara Jean tosses him a quick glance, and that’s how Peter knows she’s been crying a little.
Those are angry tears. And Peter gets it.
“Hey,” Peter says softly, at the same time Lara Jean says, “What are you doing here, Peter?”
Peter blinks, licks his bottom lip. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
Of course, Lara Jean says that she is, even if her tone distinctly implies otherwise.
They end up sitting together in relative silence, Lara Jean tucking her chin on top of her knees, Peter watching her a little wistfully. Lara Jean was so affected by what Gen said, he noticed. About the contents of the note. And it makes Peter sad, seeing that Lara Jean could believe that she isn’t worth giving letters to, like she’ll always be an afterthought instead of a person someone would actively, consciously think about.
They find themselves talking. And Peter finds himself saying the words he’s wanted to say to her for some time now.
“Covey, do you not know just how smart, how pretty, how great you actually are?” Peter says, because he has to let her know this if not anything else.
Lara Jean blinks up at him. Her eyes. They’re shining the way the moon glows at midnight. Luminous. “Do you really mean it?” Lara Jean breathes out, and Peter says, “Why wouldn’t I?”
⁎✳☆✧⁎
Lara Jean arrives at a startling realization.
She’s in class when she sees Peter over there at the back of the room, laughing with his friends, head tipped back, voice effervescent, and oh.
Oh.
⁎✳☆✧⁎
dear covey,
hey. hi. hello. i just want to say that i like you, a lot. and there, i said it. those three words that should be simple in theory, but really complicated when you actually have to say them.
i’m not good at this. with words, with dramatic stuff, because i’ve always been a straight-to-the-point guy, you know. no frills - just exactly what i need to say.
but for you, i think i could make an exception.
i hope you know that you’re beautiful, that you have hair the colour of the sky when it has gone all dark, that you have the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen. i admire how smart you are, how you always have an answer for any question in class, how you look sculpted out of moonlight when the lighting is right.
please don’t think no one notices you.
(because i always do.)
⁎✳☆✧⁎
Peter is looking through his locker when he sees a note sitting at the bottom of it.
And it reads:
i know it’s you, peter.
(and i like you a lot, too.)
He smiles.