Archive of Our Own

1. The first letter

 Unlike most seventh graders, Collie Parker feels mostly neutral about Valentine’s Day.

 He is not crazy about it like the girls, who scream and giggle at each other while they make heart-shaped decorations using the red paper their arts and crafts teacher has brought for the day. Some of the boys are crazy about it too, though in a different way. Well, except for Peter McVries, who is practically holding the teacher’s computer hostage as he looks for the best love songs to put to ‘help the ambiance’. Arthur Baker is also one of the cheerful ones, chatting with the ones around him as he does his work. But most boys are groaning, complaining about how Valentine’s Day is a ‘girl’s holiday’ and how ‘it doesn’t mean shit’ but Collie can see the way they look around, sending side glances at the girls and fidgeting with their hands. 

 Because, truth is, when they come back to class after recess, they all want to see cards on their desks. The day before, they were asked to write cards for ‘all of their classmates’ (which Collie knows no one other than maybe Art is going to do, because why would you write a Valentine’s Day card to somebody you don’t even talk to? That would just be empty words and Collie hates those) Then today, at the beginning of the class, she collected them all and is going to put them on the desks of the people they are addressed to during the break. Fun stuff. 

 They have been doing this since elementary and, while it was fun back then, now that everybody is more aware of what romantic dynamics are and that boys and girls are supposed to date each other there’s an extra layer to it that nobody dares mention. Collie honestly couldn’t care less. Valentine’s is barely a holiday, but they get to draw while listening to music and also free chocolate-based desserts at the cafeteria, so he’s not going to complain either. He guesses that he will feel different about it once he has an actual crush, but no luck in that department so far. 

 “Despite what some people say, 12 year olds can know a lot about love” his mother says “But they don’t know shoot about relationships”

 The sound of giggling makes Collie lift his head up. He sees a group of boys snickering as they open a bottle full of red glitter and carefully pour water inside of it, making sure everything is mixed together before wrapping a sheet of paper around it. Collie is intrigued by this, watching intently as the boys make sure that everything is to their satisfaction and then, instead of using it for their work, they carefully place it inside the desk, making sure it doesn’t tumble. Collie frowns, still trying to figure out what on Earth they would be doing this for, but guys can be weird by that and, before he knows it, the recess bell rings, indicating that they are free to leave the classroom, so Collie forgets all about it, collecting his stuff. 

 He sees somebody quickly pass by him towards the door and then he hears the sound of something metallic hitting the floor. When he looks down, he sees a small silver keychain with the silhouette of a cat’s head lying next to his boot. He picks it up and exits the classroom, going to the hallway. It doesn’t take him too much time to identify the owner of the keychain, who is just a few steps in front of him. Collie quickly catches up, tapping him on the shoulder.

 “Hey” he calls, and Gary Barkovitch turns around with a frown on his face, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees Collie. 

 Barkovitch arrived at the school at the beginning of the year and, so far, he’s not exactly fitting in: His attempts at jokes don’t land and he seems to overreact to everything anybody says to him, so neither teachers nor students are too fond of him. Collie himself has only had one other interaction with the guy the month prior, when he helped Barkovitch get a snack that had gotten stuck on one of the cafeteria’s vending machines. 

 “What do ya want?” Barkovitch asks in that pseudo-southern accent of his, looking anywhere but at Collie, who holds up the keychain in front of him. Once Barkovitch recognizes it, he quickly snatches it back. 

 “It fell from your backpack while you were leaving the classroom” Collie explains and he comes to the realization that he could’ve just kept the keychain and given it back to Barkovitch once they were back in class, but whatever.

 “Cool” Barkovitch nods, turning back around. “See ya”

 Collie watches him go, frowning and thinking about how a ‘thank you’ would’ve been nice but, once again, whatever. He hears Pete calling his name behind him, so he turns around and joins his friends. 

 Before they know it, recess is over and they all go back to the classroom. Some of the girls squeal as they run inside, while the boys fake not caring as they also quickly make their way back into the classroom. Collie looks around, seeing how all of the desks have different red and pink cards neatly organized in there. Collie sits down, humming in appreciation when he sees the entire surface of his desk covered with cards. He barely listens to the teacher’s demand of not making too much noise while reading and commenting on the cards with one another until a voice startles him. 

 “That one 's mine!” Pete exclaims, looking at his best friend Ray Garraty, who is holding a baseball-themed card in his hands. Collie can’t help but smile a little at his enthusiasm. 

 “What a fucking loser” someone murmurs and Collie turns around, ready to tell whoever said that off for talking about his friends like that, but then he sees that it is the same group of boys he had seen before, one of them already holding the wrapped glitter bottle again 

 They’re not looking at Pete and Ray, but at someone else. Collie follows their gaze until he finds Gary Barkovitch sitting at the far end of the classroom, his desk completely empty of any sort of card or gift. Barkovitch is looking down, blinking furiously fast, a technique Collie has seen his little sister use a lot of times to prevent herself from crying. He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking that maybe he should have given him one, but what could he have put in there anyways? 

 “Yo, Barko” one of the boys says, not yelling but loud enough to catch a few eyes. “Here’s your present”

 The boy then throws the glitter bottle at him and, while it’s only a few seconds, Collie now understands why they wrapped it: The paper sticking out a little over the neck of the bottle makes it so that it doesn’t spill as it flies but, when it lands on Barkovitch’s desk, all of its container basically explodes, covering the table, his tshirt and his face and hair, though he at least managed to close his eyes before the glitter got in them. The boys start laughing loudly and the rest of the class stops talking about their own cards to turn around and see what’s going on. 

 Barkovitch opens his eyes and, seeing him with his skin and hair wet and glistening with red, Collie can’t help but be reminded of the movie he saw with his older sister last Halloween, the one with the girl and the prom and the blood. For a second, he even expects the room to turn red and catch on fire with all of them inside, but of course it doesn’t happen. Instead, Barkovitch’s face twists with rage and he lifts up his foot, kicking the desk away with as much strength as he can, making it tumble to the ground, glitter spluttering to the floor. Then, he grabs his backpack and runs out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher’s calls. 

 “Why the fuck would you do that?” Collie asks, and the guy who threw the thing shrugs. 

 “It’s not my fault he didn’t catch it” it’s his response. “We even gave him a heads up”

 The teacher sends them to the office, saying she’s going to get supplies to clean up the glitter and also try and look for Gary, leaving the students alone. Instead of talking about what just happened or succumbing to the chaos, they all look back at their cards, reading them as a way to pass the minutes. While nobody seems to find this ‘prank’ funny, they also aren’t friendly enough with Barkovitch to feel sorry for him. Collie reads cards from friends and classmates, letting the time pass by. Halfway through, he finds one that catches his attention: It's a simple white paper, folded in four, without anything written on it. Intrigued, Collie takes it and unravels it, being met with a tight, neat handwriting that reads the following message: 

Collie:

I don’t know why I’m writing this, but I just needed to let it out I guess: 

You’re the coolest person in the whole grade. 

That’s all

 Collie stares at the message for a few seconds, reading it again and again. Despite how brief it is, something about those 27 words (not counting his name) sticks with him. There’s no name on the letter, not even a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’, which intrigues him even more. Collie rises from his seat and goes towards his friends’ desk, asking if they have received notes in a similar format, but that doesn’t seem to be the case for anybody else. He begins to walk around the classroom, asking other classmates, again with no success. Hank Olson smirks at him when he sees Collie coming back.

 “Looks like Parker has a secret admirer” he says, rolling his eyes. “Not that anybody’s surprised about that”

 Collie doesn’t answer that, but he does read the note again. Something in his chest flutters. Despite Hank’s words, he is surprised.

 In fact, he’s happy. 

2. The seventeenth letter

 “Parker” Coach says “It’s your turn”

 Collie groans as he stands up, being cheered on by his other teammates as he goes towards the field, looking at the sky, which seems to get grayer by the minute. There are few things that are as unappealing to Collie as the idea of playing baseball under the rain, but at least they only have around 20 minutes left. 

 He takes his position in front of the pitcher, swinging his bat over his shoulder with a bored look. Collie looks around, finding Ray’s eyes on the other side of the field. If Collie does his job right, he should be able to help Ray run back to base and get their team a point. Collie nods at him as a way to salute. Ray nods back.

 “Alright, Parker, let’s see what you got!” somebody shouts behind him. Collie turns around, being met with the flash of Gary Barkovitch’s camera, who just smirks in satisfaction at the picture he has just taken. Collie rolls his eyes and gets into position.

The pitcher, some random kid from a school a couple of towns over, just glares at Collie and tilts his chin upwards, an intimidation tactic that almost every other 14 year old likes to use. Collie thinks a little league baseball match does not need this kind of effort, but he doesn’t really care about baseball that much. That being said, his mother wants him and his sisters to do some kind of sport, so baseball he chose, since most of his friends were on the team. Collie has been thinking about joining the track team next year, although he hasn’t really mentioned it to anybody yet. 

 The pitcher throws the ball and Collie swings, but he misses, the ball being caught by the kid behind him.

 “Strike” someone yells.

 “Jeez Louise, Parker, what a wait to let down the audience” Barkovitch exclaims from behind the fence. 

 “Mind your own fucking business Barkovitch” Pete says, standing a few feet away from him. Pete doesn’t play baseball, since his uncle refuses to pay the registration fee, but he always comes to the matches. He says it’s for everyone, but Collie knows it’s mostly for Ray. Those two might as well be conjoined twins the way they are attached to the hip. 

 “Why don’t you mind your own business? Or maybe focus on your boyfriend, see if he can make it to the base” Barkovitch inquires, looking at Pete with an instigating grin on his face. He gets flipped off by Pete in response. 

 Collie rolls his eyes and looks back at the pitcher, who seems weirded out by the whole interaction. Collie shrugs and gets into position. The pitcher throws the ball.

 Collie misses.

 “Strike 2”

 “Shit” Collie whispers

 “You got this, Parker!” Coach says from his spot, clapping his hands together.

 “Yeah, you got this, Parker” Barkovitch repeats sarcastically. 

 “What’s your fucking issue?” Collie asks. Barkovitch rolls his eyes.

 “I don’t have an issue, you’re the one who’s losing, not me. The school’s newspaper is going to publish my photos either way” he takes another one of Collie’s annoyed frown as a way to prove a point. 

 “No wonder nobody wants to talk to you for more than five seconds, you fucking asshole” Collie hears Pete say as he turns around, rolling his shoulders back.

 “I’ll show you losing” he mutters under his breath, looking back at the pitcher. He raises the bat and waits until it’s being thrown at him before swinging. 

 He sighs when he feels the wood making contact with the ball, holding his breath as he sees the ball fly to the other side of the field. Instinctively, Collie looks over his shoulder and sees Barkovitch staring in the direction where the ball has gone, camera in hands and mouth agape. He then makes eye contact with Collie, his eyes open wide. Collie can’t help but smirk at him before he starts running.

 They end up winning the match, cheering in the locker room as they talk about their plans for the rest of the day. Collie and his friends step outside, finding Pete waiting for them. He goes straight to Ray, hugging him and talking about how great of a match it had been. As they chat, Collie opens one of the pockets of his duffle bag, looking for a hair tie. Instead, his fingers caress something foreign. Upon recognizing its paper. Collie quickly takes it out, the movement catching the attention of the rest, who turn around to watch him. Pete starts laughing. 

 “It was about damn time. How long has it been since the last one, two months?” 

 “Something like that” is Collie’s response. Two months and ten days, not that he’s counting.

 Ever since that Valentine’s Day almost three years ago, the notes from Collie’s secret admirer had kept coming at a rather irregular pace. He finds them on his desk, his locker and even his backpack. Some of them are as short as the first one, while others are longer, the writer taking time to ramble about the most random topics before finding a way to circle it back to Collie. The identity of the author is still pretty much a mystery, though: They are smart, never giving any single detail about themselves or giving any sort of indication that could help Collie figure it out. 

 “Well, are you going to read it, or do we need to take it from you?” Hank asks.

 “Only if you want to” Art quickly adds, sending a side glance to his friend. Collie quickly unfolds the letter, reading the words. 

Collie:

Congratulations on winning the match! Well, at least I hope you won, since I’m writing this before going to see it. You better have won, because otherwise you’re making both of us look bad. 

But I know that you’ll win, you’re the best batter they have. I go to all of the matches, as embarrassing as that sounds. Sometimes I sit with the crowd and sometimes I hide behind the bleachers, but I always know when it’s your turn to hit the ball because you practically send it to the other side of town. And the worst part is, you make it look easy! Does it ever get tiring, being so good at everything you do?

I don’t know what else to say, so once again congratulations on the win! And, if you lost, don’t worry, I bet those idiots probably cheated somehow

That’s all

 When Collie is finished, the boys are behind him, reading the letter as well. He turns around and looks at Pete.

 “Did you see anybody going into the dressing room?” he asks eagerly. Pete shakes his head no. 

 “Can’t say I did, compadre” he sighs. “And the rest of you?”

 “I think I would’ve noticed a girl walking into the men’s dressing room” Hank says, rolling his eyes. 

 “I was too busy trying to win a match” Ray says next, making Hank whistle. 

 “Yes, thank you Mr Garraty, we would be so lost without you” he responds, putting his hands on his chest for dramatic effect. “You should be the one getting love letters instead of Parker” 

 “And who says I’m not?” Ray replies, making the others burst in wolf whistles and laughter.

 “Oh, please, I would know if you were,” Pete replies, rolling his eyes.

 “I don’t know what to tell you, Garraty” Collie says between laughs, holding up the letter with a smile. “The words speaks for themselves” 

 Click

 Startled, they all turn around, finding Barkovitch sitting on the bleachers, camera covering his face. Collie’s expression freezes and he slowly puts his arm down, expecting the other boy to have some snarky comment to share with them. But instead, Barkovitch simply looks at his camera, most likely at the picture he has just taken, and turns around, leaving the field. Collie watches him leave, confused for a few seconds before the conversation starts again.

 A week later, Collie finds that picture decorating the front page of the high school’s newspaper. He’s in the center of the picture, smiling as he holds up the letter, which is just a white paper on the photograph. There’s a caption about ‘Celebrating Their Victory’ on bold letters on top of it and, written in small cursive under the picture, the sentence ‘taken by G. Barkovitch, 9th Grade’

 “Narcissistic much?” 

 Barkovitch is standing next to Collie, looking at the newspaper with a blank expression. Collie would even think he’s calm, if it weren’t for the fact that his fingers are tightly wrapped around the strap of his backpack. 

 “It’s a good photo” Collie decides to say instead of acknowledging his harsh words. Barkovitch turns towards him, confusion all over his face. It’s almost comical. “I mean it, you’re good”

 He means it. Collie has submitted stuff for the newspaper, a few drawings here and there, but none of them have ever appeared in the front page. That place is mostly saved for things submitted by the seniors. 

 “You…” Barkovitch frowns, lifting a hand and tugging at a strand of his hair. “You do?” Collie nods. “Oh” Barkovitch looks back at the picture and huffs. “You’re decent, I guess” 

 There’s a hint of a smile on his face, which makes Collie’s surprise about receiving a sort-of-compliment from Gary Barkovitch for the first time ever even bigger. He puts his hands on his pockets and nods.

 “I try to be,” he says. “I don’t really like sports, to be honest”

 “You don’t?” Barkovitch inquires, still tugging at his hair, eyes back to the picture. 

 “Nah, I’m more into drawing. My little sister loves sports though, she’s the captain of her soccer team and everything”

 Barkovitch opens his mouth to respond, but the bell rings, cutting up the moment. They stand in position for a few seconds until Collie decides to move, thinking about how his next teacher doesn’t like when people arrive late. As he moves towards the stairs, Collie looks over his shoulder, finding that Barkovitch is still looking at the newspaper, fingers gently caressing the picture on the cover.

3. The thirty-sixth letter

 Collie crosses his arms over the lunch table, watching as yet another promposal happens on the other side of the room, this time involving a radio and a bunch of confetti. Everybody claps when it’s over, even though almost everybody in the room seems to be weirded out and straight up cringing at the scene. 

 “That’s a waste of confetti” Stebbins mutters, sitting in front of Collie.

 “I think it’s cute,” Art says.

 “Yeah, if you have a kink for second-hand embarrassment” Hank says. “If I ever turn out like that, shoot me. Straight on the guts, leave me to bleed out on the street. It’s what I’ll deserve”

 “Jesus, Hank,” Richard laughs. 

 “Let’s see if you keep talking like that once you get a lady of your own” Pete adds. Hank huffs. 

 “No fucking way, I’m going to settle down until I’m like, fucking thirty or something” Hank shakes his head no viciously. “I mean it, I’m going to have ten different girls during college and I’m just going to fucking rotate them every day” he makes a circling movement with his hand to empathise his words. Pete and Richard burst out laughing.

 “Sure, man, whatever you say” Richard manages to say between chuckles. 

 “I’m sorry, maybe not everybody wants to be Mr and Mr we-will-elope-as-soon-as-we-graduate over here” Hank rolls his eyes, using his fork to point at Pete and Ray, who flip him off in perfect synchrony. They started dating at the beginning of the year, to no one's surprise.

 “You could never be us even if you tried,” Ray says with a shrug. 

 “Exactly. And also, we have decided to get married after we finish college” Pete adds, with Ray nodding in agreement. Hank fake gags at the words and Stebbins rolls his eyes. 

 “Hey, Collie, are you good?” Art asks, taking Collie out of his thoughts. “You’re quiet today” 

 “Yeah, sorry, yeah” Collie sighs, pushing some hair out of his face. “I was just thinking”

 “About what? Prom?” inquiries Richard. 

 “Kinda” Collie answers, looking around before leaning over a bit over the table. The others, instantly recognizing that he was about to shift the conversation into something more serious, quickly imitated him. “I’m going to ask the author of the letters to prom” he explains, not being able to suppress his smile. Pete claps him on the shoulder vicariously. 

 “Attaboy, Parker!” he says, smiling widely at him. 

 “So, you finally figured out who she is?” Richard asks. Stebbins makes a funny face, similar to the one babies do when they try lemon for the first time, but Collie ignores it. 

 “It was about damn fucking time” Hank exclaims. 

 “No, I haven’t” Collie confesses. “But I have a plan” He clears his throat and begins explaining “I have noticed that I tend to receive notes on Fridays while I’m on track practice” a collective nod. “So, this Friday, I’m going to put a note on my locker asking her to meet and giving her a time and place. Then, I’ll ask her to prom” he clasps his hands together when he finishes. 

 Collie has spent the last few weeks thinking about the best way to get the result he wanted, spending hours brainstorming with his sisters. But the faces of his friends are practically dripping with something akin to disappointment. 

 “And why can’t you just… wait for her in the locker room until she goes to leave the letter in there?” Hank asks, and Collie uses all of his strength to not roll his eyes, since that had been his first idea until he told his older sister about it.

 “Excuse me for not wanting to ambush her,” he says. “I want to give her a chance to get ready for the interaction. I mean, it has been five years of letters, I think it’s safe to assume she’s very shy, so I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or attacked. Plus, I’m not going to ask her to prom in a fucking locker room”

 “That’s very sweet of you to consider, Collie” states Art. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

 “Not really” is Collie’s answer, and he means it. 

 While he has spent five years receiving the mysterious letters, he has never spent time thinking about what their author might look like. Sure, there are certain things he likes in a person’s appearance, but that has never been the most important part for him. When Collie reads the letters, he imagines the writer as someone funny, in the snarky type of way that Collie is most of the time, someone who has very clear morals and beliefs, but is still open to change with the right incentive. Collie is seventeen, of course, he wants his secret admirer to be pretty, but it doesn’t worry him. After all, how can such pretty words not come from a pretty person?

 Not to mention, another thing he has noticed about the notes is the fact that they don’t mention Collie’s looks. He has been asked out by a couple of girls before, all of them very nice and lovely, but they have always talked about how his looks were the thing that drew them to him. And Collie is flattered by the compliments, of course, but a part of him is starting to get anxious at the thought of that being the only thing people will notice about him. The person writing the letters, though, always mentions stuff like the way Collie helped someone with change at the cafeteria or made a funny joke during recess. If he started to care about the author’s exterior, that would just make him a fucking hypocrite.

 Over the last couple of years, the notes have become practically a weekly thing, though there have been periods of time when their flow has slowed down, mostly during exams or other busy periods for students. They have become longer too and, while the author is still smart enough to not share any life details, there have been small things that Collie has taken as a window to peek a little into the personality behind the words: Mentions about an unlimited hatred for math and a love for cats, about an interest in cooking and a lifelong dream to live in the countryside which might be the closest thing to a flaw Collie can point out.

 The conversation shifts subjects again and Collie gets lost in his thoughts once more, which makes the rest of the school day a blur. Before he knows it, he’s sitting on his desk, doodling on a piece of paper as he thinks about his plan. He has written and rewritten the note he’s going to leave on his mind thousands of times, but still hasn’t figured out the right words. He wants to, needs to, make it perfect, to the point but also make sure he’s not putting his admirer on the spot. Something is missing.

 He looks down at the rose he’s been drawing for the last fifteen minutes and blinks at it like he’s seeing it for the first time.

  “Flowers,” Collie mutters to himself.  Of course, he should bring flowers! While it might not be near enough a ‘retribution’ for all the years of letters, it’s still better than showing up empty handed. But what kind of flowers? It’s not going to be roses, that’s for sure: They are pretty and all, but also cliché and way too fucking expensive.

 Collie slides the paper he has been drawing on away and opens his laptop, looking up different types of bouquets he can buy. Daisies and lilies are good options, but his eyes end up being drawn to a type of flower that seems to be a thousand little white dots when looking from afar. Despite their simplicity, Collie knows they are exactly the flowers he’s been looking for: Cute, but not too extravagant. They’re officially named ‘gypsophila’, though they are more commonly known as ‘baby breath’ which makes him chuckle. The website he’s browsing says that they symbolize new beginnings, which seems fit for the situation. 

 “Collie!” his mother calls from downstairs. “Time for dinner!” 

 “Coming!” he yells back before closing his laptop and exiting the room. When he comes downstairs, his mother asks him what has him smiling so widely, and he can only shrug, ignoring the mocking giggles of his sisters, which can’t seem to shake his grin away. 

 The following day starts as any other, with boring classes and people running around with prom decorations to set at the gym. After his second period ends, Collie goes to his locker, humming a song under his breath as he walks. Suddenly, something crashes onto him and he stumbles, his hands grabbing onto the first thing they find so that he doesn’t lose balance. 

 “Sorry” he says, looking in front of him and finding Barkovitch’s face. Collie wants to say something more, but he finds himself frowning when he notices that the other boy’s eyes are practically glowing with tears. Barkovitch walks past him, disappearing between the rest of the students. Collie watches him leave until he’s out of sight and then starts walking again. 

 When he reaches his locker, Collie sees a piece of white paper sticking out of the side. He can’t help but smile at the sight, but also feel a slight hint of panic. He doesn’t receive multiple notes a week, so this means that his plan for Friday has to be moved for another day. Though, now that he thinks about it, maybe he should put another note on his locker just in case. He takes the note and leans against the wall, unfolding it with a hum. It’s short today, shorter than the first one he received on that Valentine’s Day years ago, but the few words on it are enough to put his mood and world upside down. 

Collie:

This is going to be the last note I send you.

It is for the best.

That’s all

 “What the fuck?” Collie asks. He reads the note again and again, opening his locker and looking inside, almost expecting to find another note that confirms that it’s all some kind of prank, but there’s none. “What the fuck?” he repeats, trying to ignore how his voice shakes. 

 He stands still for a minute, although it feels like an hour, and then simply gets his stuff and goes to his next class, feeling almost like his body is on autopilot. When lunch break arrives, Collie doesn’t say anything, just takes the note and puts it on the table, unable to speak. Pete is the first one to read it, Ray resting his cheek on his shoulder to read the words. Their faces go from intrigue to disbelief in a second.

 “What the fuck?” Ray asks.

 “Jesus, Cols” Pete says at the same time. Art takes the note from him, reading it and covering his mouth in surprise. Hank and Richard cringe at the message, while Stebbins’ expression remains unreadable. “That fucking sucks, man”

 “Did I do something?” Collie asks, more a thought than a question. “I don’t think I did…”

 “You didn't,” Pete reassures him. “Are you alright?” Collie looks at him with an expression that can only be translated to ‘what the fuck do you think?’ 

 “Something must have happened,” Ray says. “What? Years of letters are not going to stop just because, especially not like this” he adds in response to the glare Pete sends his way. 

 “Fuck!” Art suddenly says, making everybody turn towards him. “Yesterday, me and Richard were in the library during a free period and we talked about your plan to ask the author out to prom” he explains. Next to him, Richard’s eyes go wide. “Maybe someone overheard?” Collie nods at the words. They make sense, but something in him still hasn’t processed them.

 “Sorry, man,” Richard says. “If we had known…”

 “It wouldn’t have changed a thing” Collie interrupts him with an humorless laugh. “I mean, it’s clear she doesn’t want to go out with me” he tries to find a reason inside his head, but is unable to do so. Why would this girl write him notes for years only to suddenly decide it ‘was for the best’ to stop?. He curses himself for not reaching out sooner, although he can guess the results of that wouldn’t have been especially good. 

 “He”

 Collie looks towards Stebbins, who is eating his lunch with a borderline enraging amount of normality. Collie blinks at him, confused. 

 “What?” he asks. 

 “He. The person writing these letters to you is a boy” Stebbins clarifies with the tone of who is discussing the weather. 

 “What?” Collie asks again, dumbly and louder. 

 “How do you even…” Hank begins to ask. 

 “It’s pretty obvious,” Stebbins shrugs. “The anonymity of it all, why there aren’t any sort of personal details or clues about their identity, the fact that there have been multiple notes on your dressing room or locker room, a place no girl could sneak into that many times without being noticed. It’s a boy. He overheard Baker and Harkness talking about your plan and decided to spare himself the rejection”

 Collie lets his fork fall to the table, staring into nothing. Thousands of thoughts are going through his mind. The main one of it all is that Stebbins’ words make sense. There has to be a reason why this person has decided to hide their identity all this time and them being a boy is a good reason too, especially since Collie has admittedly assumed they were a girl this whole time (he now feels rather stupid about it) Still, there’s another thought that conquers all of the rest. 

 “I wouldn’t have minded” Collie finds himself confessing. He has never thought about his sexuality before, because he has found girls pretty, so he just assumed he was straight, but now that he thinks about it, really thinks about it, the idea of dating a boy doesn’t seem that bad, if the guy in question was cool. 

Out of all the things he expected to happen that Wednesday, finding out he’s not straight was not one of them, but what-fucking-ever. 

 “You too?” Hank asks. 

 “That’s great, Collie,” Richard smiles at him. 

 “I don’t know if that makes this whole situation better or worse” Ray mutters. The answer is worse, because that means the other guy’s fears were for nothing. Sure, Collie would’ve been surprised, but he would’ve still asked him out. 

 “Did you see anybody at the library?” he asks Art and Richard. “Like, anybody from our grade?” They both shake their heads no. 

 “Even if we did, that doesn’t necessarily make them the author,” Richard says. “It could be someone who knows them and told them about it” 

 “You’re not helping,” Pete’s voice says.

 Collie closes his eyes and finally accepts defeat. It doesn’t make sense to feel as down as he does, because the truth is he didn’t really know this person. However, that doesn’t stop his chest from feeling like it’s being put through a fucking blender. He feels Pete petting his back as a way to console him. It doesn’t work, but the gesture is appreciated nonetheless. After a few seconds, Collie recomposes, looking at his friends and changing the subject. Luckily, they all go along with it. 

 Collie tries his best to stay alert during the rest of his classes, although he can’t help but read the last letter over and over again in some sort of masochistic impulse. The bell indicating the end of the day might as well be the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He says goodbye to his friends, ignoring the pitying looks they send his way, and starts his walk home, realizing that he’s going to have to explain what has happened to his sisters. 

 And also come out to them, apparently.  

 He kicks a rock down the road and looks to the side. He sees a small playground, composed only by a slide and a pair of swings. A person is sitting on one of them, gently swinging with their head facing the ground. Normally, Collie would just keep walking without paying much mind, knowing better than to interrupt someone who clearly wanted to spend some time alone, but for some reason his body is screaming at him to get closer. And so, get closer he does. 

 When Collie sits on the free swing, Barkovitch curses, looking at him and then hunching over himself, staring back at the ground. Collie begins swinging, contemplating how his mood has somehow radically changed in less than 24 hours thanks to sixteen simple words. 

This is going to be the last note I send you.

It is for the best.

 “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Barkovitch suddenly asks, eyes still locked on the ground. Collie stops swinging and shrugs.

 “Is there something you want to talk about?” Collie asks. Barkovitch turns to look at him with a frown, but then he swallows, looking at the sky.

 “Why the fuck are you here, then?” he questions, barely a whisper.

 “I don’t know,” Collie admits. “It’s been a weird fucking day”

 “Tell me about it” Barkovitch laughs, no humor in his tone. His eyes look slightly reddened, and his neck and arms are full of red marks that are most likely a result of Barkovitch’s tendency to scratch himself. “I can’t fucking wait to graduate” 

 “Where do you plan on going?” Collie inquiries.

 “I can’t afford college” Barkovitch answers. “So I’ll just go get a job at the gas station or something and see what I can do. My mom’s boyfriend is planning to kick me out when I turn eighteen anyway” 

 It’s a bleak confession, and the most personal information he has gotten out of Barkovitch. Collie comes from a great family, with no real drama outside of his grandfather’s feud with his neighbour, so he doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s a situation he finds himself often in, when Pete rants to him about how shitty his uncle is or when Ray’s grief over his father’s death gets bad. Normally, he would just say stuff like ‘Sorry’ or ‘I’m here for you’ but he doubts Barkovitch would respond well to either of those.

 He feels sorry, though. Barkovitch is a jerk but, despite making some brash comments here and there, he has never been a bully. In fact, he mostly keeps to himself now, not as eager to start shit as he was when they were younger. He still has no friends or either people he hangs out with, even from the school newspaper, and Collie has never seen any family members go to any of the school’s events. He knows Barkovitch’s parents are divorced, but that’s about it. 

 “There are some community colleges that have photography programs,” Collie says, noticing the silence is becoming uncomfortable. Barkovitch huffs

 “Yeah, for people who are actually talented” Barkovitch begins scratching at his neck again. “Which we both know I’m not”

 “Don’t make me a participant in your lack on self-steem” Collie estates. “You already know I think your pictures are good. You’ve managed to make Olson look great in some photos, that alone should grant you a scholarship” Barkovitch lets out a surprised, genuine laugh and Collie hums in satisfaction. “Just make sure you get my good side at prom, okay?” 

 Suddenly, Barkovitch’s shoulders tense and he looks away from Collie, who realises that their small moment is over almost at the same time as he realises that they were sharing a moment. Barkovitch starts swinging, feet on the ground moving the mud under him. 

 “I’m not going,” he declares. 

 “Oh” Collie says back.

 “I’m not going” Barkovitch repeats, more defensively “I’m not fucking going because why would I spend five dollars on a ticket to an event where everybody fucking hates me?” he’s ranting now, talking to himself as he digs his feet deeper into the ground. “I’m not going to, Parker, I’m fucking not” his voice breaks at the end and he quickly slaps his hands over his face. They stay in silence for a few seconds, until Collie decides to break it.

 “If you feel like that, maybe it’s for the best if you don’t go” Barkovitch turns towards Collie, almost surprised at his words. 

 Perhaps he was expecting some kind of invitation to hang out with Collie and his friends at the event, but Collie is not going to speak for the rest of the guys, who would probably not be very thrilled about the idea. It’s not like Barkovitch has ever fought with either of them, other than the admittedly short but heated argument here and there. The guys are mostly neutral about him, but Collie is a realist, he knows that the outcome of asking Barkovitch to tag along would take a toll on both Barkovitch himself and the rest of the guys.

 “Yeah, that’s what I fucking said, thank you for your thoughts” Barkovitch spits out. 

 “Do you want to know my thoughts?” is Collie’s reply to the comment. After a moment of silence, Barkovitch ends up giving him a small nod. “You shouldn’t go to prom and you shouldn’t stay in town either. If I were you I’d leave as soon as I could”

 “Fuck you!” Barkovitch yells, but instead of running away like Collie thinks he will, he stays in place, scratching his neck even harder. Collie keeps talking. 

 “I’m telling you this because I don’t think nobody else will” he clears his throat, trying to gather his thoughts in as few and clear sentences as possible. “You’re not a bad person, but you need help, Gary” the use of his given name makes Barkovitch stop scratching. “And this place can’t give you that, at least not enough for it to make a change. Of course, you have to want to make a change”

 “What if I want to but I can’t?” Barkovitch interrupts him. “What if this is all there fucking is to me?” Tears are running down his face, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Collie goes through a bunch of possible answers to the question, but finally he decides to settle on the most honest one. 

 “That’s for you to figure out” 

 Barkovitch abruptly stands up from the swing and walks away without looking back. Collie stays on the swing until he has disappeared from view, sighs and picks up his things, resuming his walk home. 

4. The thirty-seventh letter

  Collie should not be at the bar right now. He should be enjoying his off day, slumped over the couch and watching whatever movie he deemed interesting enough as he ate takeout and tried not to think too hard about how he hasn’t gotten any response from his latest job interview yet. But Zuck has a stomach bug and can’t go to work, so Collie offered to cover for him.

 He doesn’t hate his job. Sure, bartending was not the thing he thought he would be doing after finishing college, but at least he has a decent boss that pays him more than minimal wage, and some nice coworkers and regulars. He’s not as close to them as he is to his friends, but it’s still fine. It could be worse. 

 There are only two hours left before closing when the door swings open and a small group of people enter the establishment. There are four of them, and they seem to be around Collie’s age. They quickly run to an unoccupied  table at the far end, next to the darts. 

 It’s only when he laughs, turning to his side with a smile and his eyes half-closed, that Collie recognizes him. 

 He hasn’t seen Gary Barkovitch in four years, ever since he moved out of town two weeks after graduating high school. When asked about it, his mother had mentioned he had moved in with his paternal grandmother. Collie remembers thinking he would probably never see him again.

 But there he is, as clear as day. He still has the same haircut as he did in high school, blonde hair not quite reaching his shoulders, but it seems like he bleaches it now and is also slightly more curly. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt with low rise jeans that show off his waist and looks like a completely different person from the angry boy that fell asleep during English class on the desk behind Collie’s.

 Barkovitch and one of the girls he’s with begin walking towards the counter, and Collie quickly pretends he’s cleaning up some glasses to hide the fact that he was staring. His heart is beating like crazy inside his chest, which makes him feel stupid because what reason does he even have to be nervous?

 “Excuse me?” someone says behind him and Collie turns. Barkovitch’s eyes widen in recognition. “Holy shit”

 “Hey!” Collie greets, “Talk about a small world” 

 The girl next to Barkovitch who has short dark blue hair and is wearing a shitton of necklaces, rolls her eyes playfully. 

 “Jesus Christ, Gare, is there a single bartender in this city you haven’t slept with?” she asks, looking at Barkovitch, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

 “Fuck you!” he says with a squeaky voice. “I haven’t…”

 “We went to high school together,” Collie explains. “I’m Collie, nice to meet you” the girl arches her eyebrows.

 “Oh, shit” she says, looking at Collie up and down. “Small world indeed” she adds with a smirk. She looks at their table and taps Barkovitch on the shoulder. “I left my wallet on the table,  you can order while I go get it, can’t you, thanks Gare, you’re the best” and she’s gone. Barkovitch flips her off as she goes and looks at Collie or, better said, somewhere behind Collie, refusing to make eye contact.

 “Sorry for that, she likes to run her mouth at the worst moments” he says. “But I’m probably the least person who should judge somebody for that” 

 Collie, who has now noticed that Barkovitch is actually wearing a sheer t-shirt with a black tank top underneath and has his nails painted the same color, can’t find the words to answer, so he just nods. 

 “No problems man” he manages to say. “So, you want to order something?” Barkovitch asks for three beers and a cherry coke. As Collie begins to prepare the drinks, he starts talking again. “So, are we celebrating something or is this just a typical Friday?”

 “Celebration” Barkovitch answers, pointing at the table. “My friend Rank over there just got promoted” he points back at the table, and Collie assumes that ‘Rank’ is a boy with soft features and light brown hair that is talking to the blue haired girl. “And before you ask, yes that is his actual name”

 “I wasn’t going to ask,” Collie chuckles. Barkovitch’s face is a mixture of confusion and exasperation. 

 “Am I the only one who finds his name weird?” he questions. “Anyways, we went to the bowling alley to celebrate and decided to have a few drinks before calling it a night” 

 “That is one hell of a bowling outfit,” Collie laughs. Barkovitch’s expression changes again, a hint of shame in the way he looks down at himself. Sensing the uncomfortable tension setting in, Collie quickly begins to talk again. “I like it. Where did you get it?” 

 “Oh” Barkovitch clears his throat. “It was a birthday gift from my friend Stella, the girl that was here just now. I’m pretty sure it’s thrifted”

 “Cool”

 After a few more seconds, Barkovitch groans.

 “Screw this, I’m not waiting for her any longer, can you just open a tab?” he asks. 

 “Sure” Collie answers with a nod. “I’ll put it under your name if you don’t mind”

 Barkovitch nods as well and goes back to the table with the drinks. As the night goes on, he doesn’t approach the bar again to order, even though Collie can feel him staring every once in a while. The group left two hours later. Rank and the final member of the group, a dark skinned girl with giant star earrings, are the ones that go to the counter to pay. Barkovitch simply gives Collie a wave before exiting the bar with the blue haired girl.

 “He’s my best friend, but he’s fucking stupid” Rank sighs, more to himself than to Collie. “Thank you for the drinks” he adds before he and the dark skinned girl exits the bar. 

 Collie’s shift ends soon after and he drives back home in silence, unable to take Barkovitch out of his mind. He looked fucking good. Not just style-wise, even though that was definitely part of it, but he also looked more authentic, in a sense. He hadn’t seen him around town before, despite the fact that Collie had been living there for a good six months.

 Six months. He’s been a college graduate for six fucking months and hasn’t been able to land a job in something remotely related to his degree. Sure, he knows that’s the case for a lot of recent graduates, but none of his friends seem to have the same issue: Richard, Art, Pete and Stebbins have already managed to find a job they feel passionate about, which makes Collie feel a little more jealous than what it’s considered to be healthy. 

 And, if not that, they at least have fulfilling personal lives: Ray is still as deeply in love with Pete as he was when he was sixteen, and Pete loves him back with the same intensity. And despite Hank’s talk about how he was going to get ten different girls in college, he had met a law student named Clementine during orientation week and had been attached to her hip ever since. 

 To be fair, Collie has tried with relationships. He briefly dated two people during college: The first relationship didn’t work out because of compatibility issues, but they have still managed to stay on friendly terms. The second one was more complicated, since the guy had suddenly dumped Collie after almost five months because he didn’t feel comfortable dating a bisexual person. Skill issue. 

 Collie tries to tell himself that none of those things really matter: He still hasn’t gotten a call from his last interview, so maybe he can still get the job. And being single isn’t that bad: he gets to do what he wants when he wants without an issue. But he’ll be lying if he claims he doesn’t feel lonely sometimes. Most of the time. Living almost two hours away from everybody else doesn’t fucking help the situation either, but at least he’ll get to spend the holidays back home with his family. 

 That’s the thought that keeps him going for the next two days, which he spends binge watching old horror movies and doing his shifts at the bar. It takes Zuck asking him if he’s waiting for somebody to realize he has now picked up the habit of stopping whatever he’s doing and looking at the entrance whenever the door opens. It seems like his five minute conversation with Gary Barkovitch has affected him more than he thought. Collie tries to reason with himself, mentally arguing that it must be a cause of his homesickness: Seeing a familiar face, even if it is Barkovitch’s, only makes those feeling stronger. 

 On Monday, Collie goes to do some Christmas shopping downtown. After a few hours, he goes browsing inside a bookstore in order to find something for his younger sister. She’s been obsessed with a saga about lesbian skeletons in space or something like that, and he hopes to find the book she’s missing in there. He goes to the sci-fi section and stops right in his tracks when he sees Barkovitch crutched on the floor, his face serious as he browses the horror section. 

 “Hey” he says without realising it. Barkovitch’s head turns towards him and his eyes widen in surprise. 

 “Hi” he greets back, standing up. He’s wearing more casual clothing than he did in the club, but his nails are still painted with the same black tone. “The world keeps getting smaller”

 Collie chuckles in response. 

 “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this the other day” Barkovitch begins, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a deep breath. “I mean, I guess I did have a chance, but you were working and it was loud and just… Fuck” He looks at the ceiling for a few seconds and then back at Collie. “I want to apologize for how I behaved when we were in school. I’m sorry. I was a dick back then and I had no reason to be… Well, I had a couple of reasons, but they don’t excuse the shit I did. I truly am sorry and I’m trying to get better. You don’t have to accept the apology, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but it would be unfair to you if I stayed quiet” 

 Collie opens his mouth, but no words come out. That was not at all how he expected the conversation to go. Barkovitch looks down to the floor, softly kicking it with his shoe. Collie coughs, recomposing himself. 

 “Thank you for saying that” he says cautiously first, then adds. “Consider your apology accepted. We’re good” 

 To be honest, he can’t find something Barkovitch should be apologizing for, at least related to him spefically. Sure, they did have the occasional argument here and there, but Barkovitch argued with everybody, so it’s not like he was fixated on Collie. Still, it seems like it has taken a lot out of Barkovitch to say that.

 “Okay” Barkovitch says with clear surprise, as if he was expecting Collie to tell him to fuck off. “Cool”

 “For what it's worth, you do seem better” Collie says before laughing. “The Barkovitch I remember wouldn’t be caught dead wearing sheer” To Collie’s disbelief, Barkovitch blushes a little at his words, shrugging. 

 “Yeah well, who would’ve thought finally allowing yourself to hook up with guys would also make you develop a sense of style?” is his response and Collie mentally bluescreens.

 “You’re gay?” he asks in disbelief after a small pause. Barkovitch frowns at him. 

 “Stella literally made a joke about us sleeping together the other day?” he questions and Collie feels very stupid for not catching on to the implications of the blue haired girl’s (whose name he had forgotten) words sooner. Barkovitch laughs, covering his mouth with his hand.

 Between Collie himself being bi and his inner circle being composed with mostly queer people, he has just started to assume everyone he encounters is part of the community. And, apart from that, Ray and Richard had sometimes talked about how some Barkovitch’s issues could come from a place of internalized homophobia. Now that he thinks about it, he’s really not that surprised.

 “That’s cool” he says to break the silence. “Good for you, I mean”

 “Thanks” Barkovitch smiles, looks around them and starts talking again. “So, are you here for something specifically or…?”

 “Christmas shopping” Collie responds. “You?”

 “I’m just browsing” Barkovitch looks back at the shelf. “Who are you shopping for?”
Collie starts to talk about the book his sister wants and it turns out one of Barkovitch’s friends (The dark skinned girl, who is named Janey) is also a fan of the series, so they are able to find the book he’s been looking for with ease. Barkovitch ends up buying something as well, a novel about some teenage killer, according to the title. 

 They pay together, Collie first and Barkovitch second, and exit the establishment while talking about everything and nothing. They start walking together without even realising it, no destination in mind. Eventually, the conversation ends up drifting into high school. 

 “So, how’s everybody? You still keep in touch with the guys?” Barkovitch asks. “I bet Garraty and McVries are already married and setting up a crib or something”

 “They are talking about getting engaged, but nothing official yet” Collie answers. “No kids, but they adopted a dog last month”

 “That’s cute” Barkovitch hums, before a soft smile appears on his face.  “I have a cat” he pulls up his phone, showing Collie a picture of a tabby sleeping on what is most likely Barkovitch’s lap. “Her name is Trixie” 

 “Trixie?” Collie echoes. It’s a cute name, but not what he expected someone like Barkovitch to call his cat. 

 “Yeah, I took it from this book I like,” Barkovitch explains. “I adopted her last year. My shrink said that having something to take care of could be helpful and I always liked cats, so yeah…” Barkovitch clears his throat “How long have you been a bartender?” 

 It’s an innocent question, but Collie still feels a sting of negativity in his chest when he hears it. He clicks his tongue with a shrug. 

 “Around seven months, almost eight. Not that I’m counting” he sighs. 

 “You wanted to do art history, right?” 

 “Yeah” Collie nods, surprised that Barkovitch ever paid attention to that. “Yeah, I did. I graduated six months ago actually. Not that an art history degree has much to do with serving drinks” 

 “I feel you, dude. I have a website and some social media to promote my photography and I have gotten a couple of gigs for weddings and stuff, but it’s not enough to pay the bills, so most of my salary comes from my actual job at the movie theatre” Barkovitch sighs. “Beggars can’t be choosers, though, even if it sometimes feels like…”

 “...Like you’re falling behind” Collie finishes for him. “I know what you mean. I did an interview a while ago to work as a tour guide at the museum, but I haven’t heard from them yet” he lets out a humorless chuckle. “Everybody keeps telling me that it’s okay if I don’t get it, and that I can find another job even if it’s not related to my degree but… Sometimes I get scared that I will never truly be happy if I don’t” 

 Collie rubs his forehead, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. That was an overly personal admission to make to Gary Barkovitch of all people.

 “I used to think I was not meant to be happy” Barkovitch says then, breaking the silence. Collie pulls his hand away to look at him. “And then we had that conversation on the playground, remember?” Collie nods. “You told me to get out of town and, as much as I hated to admit it, you were right. And hey, I don’t look so bad now, do I?” 

 “You look great,” Collie admits. Barkovitch smiles.

 “If I can figure it out, so can you” he declares. His phone vibrates at the moment and Barkovitch looks down at him before groaning. “Fuck. I have to go, I promised Janey I would help her with something today, sorry”

 “It’s fine,” Collie smiles. Then, he finds himself asking: “Can I get your number?”

 Barkovitch blinks at him, as if the concept of someone asking him that is something foreign. “Yeah, sure” 

 He gives Collie his phone, and Collie adds his number to the contact list. After a minute or so, they go their separate ways. 

 They spend the first two days without texting, but then Collie receives a notification from Barkovitch, asking him about the job. After that, talking just comes easy: Before he knows it, they’re talking everyday about whatever pops into their minds, anecdotes about people they know or videos of Barkovitch’s cat jumping around or hissing at the camera. 

 Collie doesn’t tell the rest of the guys about his newfound friendship until the following week during winter break, when they are all back home, having decided to celebrate by going to what used to be their favourite restaurant when they were younger, which is of course the only pizza place in town. He tells them all about it, from his encounter on the bar to their conversation in the bookstore and their text messages after that.

 “I knew it!” Ray exclaims when learning about Barkovitch’s sexuality. “There are only too many jokes about gay people you can make before I start thinking you’re projecting” 

 “I still can’t process the fact that he was wearing sheer,” Hank whispers.

 “With painted nails” Art adds. 

 “Yeah, it seems like you really paid attention to his appearance, didn’t you Parker?” Stebbins asks, taking a sip off his drink. Collie frowns, not quite knowing what to answer. 

 “Oh wow” A voice says. Everybody turns around, seeing that Pete is looking at his phone with a surprised expression. “He does look like a completely different person”

 He turns his phone around so that the rest of the table can see what he’s looking at: an instagram post made not by Barkovitch, but by Rank to honor Barkovitch’s last birthday. Careful as to not accidentally like the post, Pete begins to show off the pictures that compose it, most of them candid shots of Barkovitch doing whatever. It seems like he doesn’t like getting his picture taken that much. Even back in high school, he always had tense shoulders and a forced grimace that barely resembled a smile on his pale face.

 “At least he has learnt how to dress”

 “Stebbins, I know you’re not the one talking about style when you wear those fucking purple pants of yours to every occasion”

 “Can we not discuss Stebbins fuckass purple pants right now?” Ray interrupts them, at the same time Richard says: “Oh look, they went to see Project Hail Mary”

 “You guys are okay with it, right?” Collie questions. Everybody turns to look at him, confusion all over their faces. “Me talking to Barkovitch and all”

 “Why would any of us give a fuck who you text?” Pete laughs. Collie shrugs in response. “Because he called me a sissy once when we were thirteen after I cried when we watched The Notebook in class?” he adds. 

 “I mean, yeah?” Collie answers. “I don’t mind cutting down contact if any of you are uncomfortable with it”

 “That’s sweet, Cols, but I think I speak for everybody in this table when I say we trust your judgement” Pete reassures him with a smile. 

 “Yeah, man, if he was an asshole in any way, shape or form you would’ve told him to fuck off ages ago” Art chimes in. Before Collie can respond to that, the moment is interrupted by Hank. 

 “No fucking way he and I have the same Batman t-shirt”

 They look at the photos until the food arrives and after that their conversations consist of old and new stories mixing together over pizza slices. The boys share stories both from back then and new ones, Art talking about how the practice on his uncle’s mortuary are going, Richard sharing some anecdotes about the people who work on the newspaper he’s interning in and even Stebbins has somewhat normal updates about how his journey on becoming a therapist is going. When they ask Collie how he’s doing, he tells them about the job interview at the museum and they all clap and congratulate him as if he has already gotten the job. 

 “They are practically ghosting me,” Collie jokes. 

 “Nonsense” Pete says, rolling his eyes. “If anyone should get it, that is you” 

 After finishing dinner and a ten minute fight about how they should divide the bill, they all go their separate ways. Collie drives back home feeling both alive and tired like he has never been in his life at the same time. He says hello to his parents and sisters and goes straight to bed, falling asleep even before his head hits the pillow. 

 He wakes up to someone hitting his door. Collie gets up with a groan, opening it up to find his younger sister’s annoyed face.

 “Dude, it’s almost eleven,” she tells him. “I thought you were dead or something”

 “What do you want?” Collie asks, rubbing his eyes. She hands him a white envelope, Collie’s name and address written on the front.

 “You got mail,” his sister says, turning around and leaving. Collie turns the envelope in his hands, not seeing any sort of indication as to who sent it. It’s probably just spam, though it is weird that it has been sent to his family’s house instead of his actual address. 

 He goes back inside the room and opens it, sitting on the bed. When he opens up the paper, he stares at it for a few minutes without reading it, his mind going through all kinds of emotions and thoughts. It’s been so long since he has received a note written with that same handwriting, ever since that day in senior year. Collie quickly drinks some water from the bottle on his bedside table and starts reading. 

Collie:

Jeez, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I wouldn’t blame you if you threw this letter in the trash as soon as you got it, but I would’ve hated myself forever if I didn’t write it. I know I don’t deserve it, so please bear with me. 

I’m sorry. I know my last letter hurt you. Truth is, I wanted it to. I wanted to hurt you so that you would not want to look for me anymore. I couldn’t let you ask me to go to prom with you, Collie because I would’ve said yes.  I don’t think there is a world in which you ask me that question and I don’t say yes, but I couldn’t do that to you. As much as it sucks to say it, I still believe that what I did was for the best, even though I wish I could have handled it in a less blunt way. Sorry if this is vague, but there’s only so much I’m willing to explain in this letter because, if we’re being honest Collie, I’m still the same fucking coward I was all those years ago. 

I don’t know how life’s been treating you, but I hope you’re doing okay. More than okay. And if you don’t, you will be soon. I know my words don't mean shit to you anymore, however I need you to believe me when I say this: The world has a place for you, Collie Parker, even if you don’t believe so right now. People like you always make sure to leave a dent whenever they go. You surely did one on me.

Again, I’m sorry. And, again, I wish nothing but the very best for you.

That’s all.

  Collie reads the letter again two, three, four times. By the seventh one, he’s tearing up. He leaves the note next to him on the bed and covers his eyes with his hands, rubbing the tears away. He’s not sad, like the way he was when he found that note on his locker just a day after deciding what type of flowers he was going to give to his secret admirer. Instead, he feels a tad lighter, like a small weight on his shoulders has been released. Collie thought that he had managed to patch up his old teenage heartbreak during college, but there seems to have been some lingering pain that is now slowly leaving his veins. 

 With a sigh. Collie folds the letter and opens his closet, pulling out an old cardboard box from one of the shelves. He opens it, looking at all the letters he has kept all these years. All of them are written with the same black pen, on the same white paper, starting and ending the same way. Collie looks at the last one, reads the words one more time for good measure and smiles.

 “I wish nothing but the best for you too” he says, putting the letter on the box and closing “I hope I can get to tell you that in person someday” It’s wishful thinking, but he lets himself think it anyway.

 Collie closes the closet door and rests his forehead against it for a second, before leaving to get some breakfast before it gets two late. 

 It is three days later, when he’s driving back to his apartment after winter break, that the guys at the museum call back. The first person he calls to tell them that he’s hired it’s his mother. The second one is Pete.

 The third one is Gary. 

5. The thirty-eighth letter

  “So, is he coming?” Pete asks on the other side of the line. Collie keeps quiet, trying to pinpoint exactly what he’s talking about, but he can’t.

 “Who’s coming to what?” he replies. He can practically see Pete’s eye roll.

 “Barkovitch. Is he coming to the reunion?”

 Pete’s talking about the five year reunion their high school is celebrating for their class. Collie and the guys are going, since it’s a good excuse to see how everybody has been doing since graduation. The question takes him by surprise because, being honest, Collie had assumed Gary would not even consider going, given the fact that his high school experience had been less than ideal. The fact that none of them have brought it up ever since Collie received the email inviting him to the event the week prior has only cemented the assumption. 

 “Why would Gary go to the reunion?” he questions. 

 “Haven’t you talked about it?” Pete questions back.

 “It hasn’t really come up” is Collie’s response. 

 “Well, I think you should ask him about it” 

 There’s something in both Pete’s tone and insistence on the matter that makes Collie turn his attention away from the breakfast he’s making and leans against the counter, putting Pete off speaker mode to press the phone against his ear.

 “Why do you ask?” 

 There’s a thing about Pete’s tone that makes him believe there’s more to it, but he knows that Pete would tell him if something was truly wrong, he’s not the type to keep stuff like that to himself. A few days after their winter break meetup, the guys had decided to follow Barkovitch on his social media and he had reached out to them via message to give each of them apologies similar to the one Collie had received in the bookstore. It wasn’t like they were friends now, but they seem to be in overall good terms with each other now. Which is good, because somewhere along the last month or so Collie has come to the realization that he has an itsy bitsy mega crush on Gary Barkovitch. The realization came suddenly, one day when Collie was hanging out with Gary and his friends and Gary was rambling about a series he had been watching and Collie had thought to himself that he could listen to Gary’s rants every day for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. 

 Collie hasn’t done anything about it, though, even though he has noticed the fact that Gary likes to compliment his appearance every time they hang out, albeit in a sarcastic tone, and that he’s touchy, pressing their shoulders together or grabbing Collie’s bicep whenever he gets startled or excited about something, because Gary is a touchy person in general with the rest of his friends and, most important of it all, he has made comments about not being a relationship kind of person, which Collie is. So, he swallows down his crush, hoping that it will fade away with time. He hasn’t told anybody about it so as to not make it worse, so that can’t be the reason Pete is being like this. 

 “Can’t a guy be curious?” Pete finally responds.

 “I’ll ask him,” Collie says with a sigh of defeat, having given up on gaining a non-vague answer to his questions. “But he’s going to say no”

 “Ask him anyways. Okay, nice chatting with you, compadre, but I have to take Bagel out for a walk. Talk to you later?”

 “Sure. Bye” Pete hangs up and Collie lets out another sigh before looking for Gary’s contact and pressing the call button. He might as well get this over with as soon as possible. He puts the speaker mode back on and continues making his breakfast. 

 “Hey” Gary’s voice says after the second ring. He yawns right after and Collie can’t help but smile. 

 “Hi there. Are you busy?” 

 “Nah, just doing the dishes. What 's up?”

  “I need to ask you something. It’s a bit weird, though”

 “Okay” Gary says, dragging out the last syllable.

 “Are you coming to the five year reunion on Saturday?” he finally asks. There’s a few seconds of silence before Gary starts… laughing?

 “Oh my fucking god, Colls” he inquires between laughs. “You were starting to freak me out for that?”

 “Sorry, I just…”

 “It’s okay man, don’t worry your pretty head about it” If Collie wasn’t already surprised (and a bit flustered) to be called ‘pretty’, the next sentence definitely does. “Yeah, I’m going. I was actually…”

 “You are?” Collie cuts him off, eyes going wide. 

 “Yup,” Gary answers, his laughter dying a little. “I thought about not going since… Well, you know” Collie nods, even though Gary can’t see it. “But I feel like I need to? In a way. Closure and all that shit” 

 “You don’t have to if you don’t want to”

 “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” Gary replies. “I know how to handle myself, Parker” Collie notes the defensiveness in his tone, a small peak into the boy Gary used to be. 

 “I know that” For a second, Collie thinks about telling Gary that it’s not like he’s going to be alone for the evening, that he’ll make sure of that, but he decides to stay quiet, figuring out it could be taken wrong. Instead, he asks. “So, do you want to go together? It’s only an hour an a half drive after all”

 Gary coughs on the other side, as if the question has taken him by surprise. He has a habit of being confused every time someone shows niceness towards him, something for which his friends like to tease him.

 “Yeah, yeah, sure” Gary clears his throat. “Are you driving or am I?”

 “I can drive. Pick you up at, let’s say, five?” The conversation sounds painfully like they’re agreeing to meet up for a date. Collie tries not to dwell too much on that. “We’ll arrive fashionably late”

 “Sounds good to me” Gary chuckles. “Oh, by the way, I’ve been reading this book and I think you’re really going to like it”

 “No fucking way” Collie cuts him off. “I’m not listening to any of your book recommendations after the last one”

 “What was wrong with the last one?” Gary inquires, faking innocence. 

 “Nothing, other than the fact that I have developed a phobia of worms” Collie replies. “And boy scouts. Also, you reading that book and going You know what, I’m going to name my cat Trixie should put you on some sort of watchlist” 

 “Oh, boohoo, don’t be such a wuss” Collie hears some shuffling and then a curious meow. “Trixie agrees with me”

 “Just… send me the name of the book later, I’ll look into it” Collie ends up giving in, faking defeat in his voice. “Okay, that was all I wanted to ask. Talk to you later”

 “Betcha” Gary responds, prolonging the last a “Trixie, say bye to Collie” another meow. “Attagirl. Bye”

 “Bye” Collie hangs up and rubs his forehead with a sigh. He decides to not text Pete yet to confirm Gary’s presence, since it’s too early for ‘I told you so’s.

 Collie feels the rest of the week go by painfully slow. Even his shifts at the museum, which he loves, feel heavy. It’s almost like time is going against him, trying to make him spend as much time as possible thinking about the fact that he was about to spend an hour and a half (technically three hours if he counted the drive back as well) in a car alone with Gary. 

 But alas, Saturday arrives and Collie is parked in front of Gary’s apartment complex at four fifty five. Gary is already waiting for him, dressed in a pair of gray trousers and a dark brown t-shirt. He smiles at Collie when he sees him and quickly walks towards the car, getting on the passenger’s seat.

 “Hey”

 “Hi” Collie greets back, clearing his throat. “Shall we go then?” 

 “Duh” is Gary’s answer while he playfully rolls his eyes. He’s fidgeting with his hands, looking down at them and biting his lower lip, clearly nervous. Without thinking, Collie uses his thumb to get him to stop. 

 “Don’t do that, you’ll make yourself bleed” he said, feeling the tips of his ears get warmer. To do anything but focus on the weird silence that has settled between them, Collie opens the glove compartment and pulls out a packet of strawberry flavoured chewing gum, giving it to Gary. “Chew on this instead”

 “Thanks” Gary starts chewing the gum, looking out the window. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous now”

 “You weren’t before?” 

 “Not really?” Gary sighs. “It’s like… It didn’t feel real until now. I’m sorry, I know I’m not explaining myself very well”

 “I get what you mean, don’t worry” Collie reassures. Gary doesn’t say anything in return other than a hum. 

 The drive to their old high school is peaceful, other than for a few playful fights about the playlist. Whenever silence, albeit comfortable, sets between them for too long, Gary would blow a bubble of gum loud enough to make Collie jump a little on his seat. 

 “Show off” Collie mutters with a smirk “I have never been able to do that”

 “Oh well, what can I say, I know how to use my mouth” 

 Once again, Collie feels the tips of his ears blush. If he didn’t already find the fact that Gary could do that attractive then, he definitely does now. He side-eyes Gary, who is looking out the window tapping his fingers on his thighs. 

 They arrive soon after that. Collie parks the car just in front of the high school and turns off the engine, but doesn’t exit the vehicle. Instead, he looks at Gary, who is fixing his hair using the car’s mirror. 

 “Okay” he sighs, looking at Collie. “Let’s go”

 They get out of the car, shuddering a little with the late March breeze, and walk shoulder to shoulder towards the gym, where the reunion is taking place. There’s a banner welcoming them at the entrance, and the interior is filled with tables and people. Collie recognizes some of them, while others don’t, probably being plus ones that have joined in on the fun. Next to him, he feels Gary’s shoulders tensing up. Nobody has noticed them yet, but it’s just a matter of time.

 “Collie!”

 As if in cue, Richard walks towards them with a smile. Collie hugs him in greeting, and they have some small talk until Richard looks to the side and makes eye contact with Gary, who just gives him a tense smile. 

 “Hi” he says. 

 “Holy shit, I’m sorry I didn’t notice you there. Hey!” Richard goes to Gary and hugs him, which clearly surprises him but he hugs him back. “You look great, man”

 “Thanks. You do too” 

 Richard separates from him and starts talking to Gary, and Collie watches as the tension slowly leaves Gary’s body and soon enough he’s engaged in the conversation. While talking, Richard walks them to the table where all the others are sitting. Collie sees them exchange looks, but Ray still gets up to say hi as well. Hank has brought Clementine, who beams when she sees them coming near them. Soon enough, they are all sitting around the table, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

 At some point, Collie gets up to get some drinks.  

 “You know” a voice says next to him. He turns around and sees Pete next to him. “I thought this would be lamer”

 “Me too,” Collie chuckles. 

 “He seems to be having fun” Pete adds, making a head gesture to signal to the table. “For someone who you were so convinced wasn’t going to come”

 “Shut the fuck up” Collie shoves Pete, no malice behind the gesture. “I really thought he wouldn’t”

 “Oh well, sometimes you can do things with the right motivation. Just last week I convinced Ray to go to a fucking pottery class” he laughs. 

 “To be fair, Ray has been following you around wherever you go like a lost puppy since we were like nine” Collie points out. “Not that you are any better”

 Pete gives him a look that surely has a deeper meaning, but Collie can’t decipher what that is. He has the same feeling he had when he asked him about Gary going to the reunion just a few days ago. 

 “Isn’t love such a wonderful thing?” Pete asks, arching his eyebrows.

 “Yeah yeah, rub your perfect relationship on my single ass once again, will you?” Collie rolls his eyes. Pete sighs and they both return to the table. 

 The hours pass by fast. At some point, someone pulls out or turns on a speaker and it isn’t long before everybody is in the middle of the gym dancing and cheering to the rhythm of whatever song is playing. 

 Collie is panting and smiling when the latest tune ends, looking around the room. His eyes land on the table, where he sees Gary fiddling with… Collie’s bag? He tilts his head to the side, confused. Maybe Gary is looking for more chewing gum or something. The next song starts, making Collie look away to the speakers, startled. When he turns around, Gary is next to him, slightly swaying to the song. His shoulders are tense and he’s looking around nervously.

 “Are you okay?” Collie asks over the music. “Did someone do something?” 

 The question seems to knock Gary out of his thoughts.

 “Oh, no!” he quickly says. “No, I was just… feeling nostalgic, I guess,” he quickly adds. “I love this song” Collie snorts at that, making him frown. “What’s so funny?”

 “I didn’t know you could dance like that to Misery Business” Collie replies. 

 “You’re just jealous you can’t top my moves” Gary says back with an eye roll. Collie hums and, once again, lets his body take over, grabbing Gary’s hand to make him spin. causing a surprised yelp from the other one that makes Collie laugh.

 “Oh yeah, great moves indeed” Collie chuckles with a nod. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds, before Gary excuses himself to go find some water.

 The party ends a couple of hours after that. Collie drives them back and they talk about how much their classmates have changed and comment on some funny moments that have occurred during the event. Halfway through the trip, Gary falls asleep, head resting against the window and eyes closed. The small light that comes from outside reflects on his hair and skin.

 Fuck, he’'s pretty. 

 Collie forces himself to keep his eyes on the road in order to not get into an accident, even though he wouldn’t be bothered by having sleepy Gary be the last thing he saw if he did.

 “What have you done to me?” he whispers, horrified. Gary stirs a little in his sleep, but his expression remains relaxed. A few strands of hair fall over his face with the movement and Collie puts them behind his ear, letting his fingers linger a second too long.

 After making it back to Gary’s apartment and allows himself to have a few seconds of watching him sleep before gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

 “Okay princess, we’ve reached your castle” he declares as Gary blinks away, hoping there’s more playfulness in his tone than tenderness. Gary stares at him. 

 “Hey” he says. 

 “Hey” Collie repeats, smiling. “This is your place” Gary looks out the window to the apartment complex and hums.

 “Fuck, that took a lot out of me. Sorry”

 “It’s fine” Collie watches as Gary unbuckles his seatbell and opens the door. “I had a lot of fun”

 Gary turns towards him, eyes half closed, hair messed up and a soft smile on his face. Collie’s mind quickly conjures up a fantasy about Collie waking up in the morning and seeing that same face next to him, lightly mocking Collie about drooling all over his pillow. He blinks to take it off his mind. 

 “I had a lot of fun too,” Gary responds. “I always have fun with you. Even back then, I always found you funny” 

 “I found you funny too” Collie echoes. “I mean, I still do but, you know, you did have your moments even when you were an asshole”

 Gary nods and says his goodbyes before getting out of the car. Collie watches him walk to the door and open up the door, giving him a wave when he does. Collie waves back, and Gary disappears into the darkness of his building. He drives back home in silence and tosses his bag to the side, only having the energy to put on his sleepwear and his phone on the charger before he’s getting into bed and falling asleep. 

 The next day starts as a normal one. Collie wakes up, goes to the kitchen and makes himself breakfast. His lips feel weird, like he has plastic stuck onto them. He starts moving towards the bedroom to get some chapstick, but he remembers he put it inside his bag the day before, so he grabs it from where he threw it on the couch the night before and opens it. 

 That’s when he sees the folded paper inside. 

 He stares at it, unsure. It can’t be, can it? Well, it technically can, but the last letter seemed like such a definitive goodbye that he hasn’t thought about the possibility of receiving another. Collie takes the note and unfolds it with shaky hands. 

Collie

I know that my last letter seemed like the last one, but I was feeling nostalgic and thought, how about another one for old times’ sake?. So here it goes:

No matter how many years pass by, you’re still the coolest person in the entire grade.

That’s all

 Collie lets out a laugh as he tenderly places the note on the coffee table, but there’s something tugging at the back of his mind, like his brain is trying to arrange a puzzle inside of his mind. He thinks about the reunion, about when exactly could a person sneak in and place a note inside his bag. Collie had left the table a couple of times, but the guys were sitting there as well, so they would’ve noticed. The only time they all got up was when they were dancing…

 That’s when he remembers seeing Gary looking through his bag and it’s like time stops for Collie. 

 He sits down on the couch, his mind racing with all sorts of thoughts and memories. Gary looking at him in surprise that first Valentine’s Day, minutes before the first note arrived. Gary making bad-timed jokes at the baseball match, only for a note to appear in the locker room. Gary looking like he was on the verge of crying the day Collie found the note that destroyed his prom dreams and then looking even more distraught when Collie found him at the playground. Gary’s friend Stella’s face when Collie introduced himself at the bar, like she knew something he didn’t. The letter before this one arriving just when Collie and Gary had started to reconnect. Gary’s sudden nervousness when he went back to the dancefloor after Collie saw him with his bag.

 I was just… feeling nostalgic, I guess, he had said.

 “Holy… fuck me” Collie declares, all the pieces fitting into his brain and clicking together. He feels like the dumbest motherfucker on Earth. 

 It was Gary. All those thirty-seven (technically thirty eight now) notes, it had been him. All those thoughts Collie had in the middle of class or late at night that made him giggle and push his head onto the pillow, looking up flowers online, all of them had been for Gary fucking Barkovitch.

 It would be the best thing to happen in Collie’s life if he, again, didn’t feel like the dumbest motherfucker on Earth. 

 He bolts to his room, grabs his phone and clicks on Gary’s contact, thumb hovering over the call button. He should tell him about it, right? But how exactly would he open this conversation? And what if, when Gary knows he knows, he freaks out on Collie and hangs up and blocks him out of embarrassment? No, this is a conversation to have in person. But it all comes back to not knowing what exactly to say.

 He exits the contacts app and goes to the group chat he has with the guys, spamming it and telling all of them to get online ‘right the fuck now’ It takes around ten minutes, but all the boys eventually respond to his text, Hank asking Collie if he has been kidnapped or something. Collie takes a deep breath and writes.

Me: No. Yesterday, I saw Gary doing something to my bag yesterday at the reunion and today it had a note inside. Gary is the  secret admirer.

 Collie sends the message. Two seconds later, Pete’s starting a group call. Collie accepts, as do the rest of the guys. 

 “Collie, what the fuck?” Pete asks. 

 “This is not a joke, right?” Hank inquiries. 

 “It’s too surreal to be a joke” says Art.

 “It’s the truth, I fucking swear” Collie declares. “I’m still wrapping my head around it, to be honest”

 “Barkovitch?” Ray asks. “Your secret admirer, the person who wrote you little letters for five fucking years is Gary Barkovitch?”

 “Yes!” Collie yells. “What the fuck do I do now?” 

 “I mean, since you had a big fat obvious crush on him, maybe ask him out?” Pete replies. “Just a suggestion”

 “That’s the plan, genius, but how do I tell him that I know?” Collie’s insecurities about his crush disappeared as soon as he found the letter inside his bag. This whole reveal it’s just the universe giving him a confirmation that he should go for it.

 “You haven’t told him?” Richard questions. 

 “No! I was, but I don’t know what to say, so I told you guys” Collie responds.

 “I just can’t believe it… I mean, the handwriting on the notes is so pretty. I’ve seen Barkovitch handwriting, it’s barely legible” Art whispers.

 “I mean, he probably did it on purpose,” Ray explains. “God, it makes so much sense when you think about it”

 “You seriously didn’t know? Didn’t even suspect it?” Stebbins voice cuts through. Collie bites the inside of his cheek, staring at his phone. 

 “You knew!?” Hank yells. Collie can hear Clementine asking what is going on from his side of the line. 

 “Of course he did, the fucking…” Ray sighs. “How long have you known?”

 “Known for sure? Ever since Parker received that letter over winter break” Stebbins answers. “Suspected? Around sophomore year, give or take”

 “Sophomore year!?” Collie, Ray and Hank exclaim at the same time. “And you didn’t think you should share your thoughts with the class?” asks Collie. 

 “I didn’t know for sure, it was just a theory. And I didn’t think you would react very well to it. And even if I did tell you, what, you were going to ask sophomore year Barkovitch out?” Collie doesn’t know how to answer that. “It’s honestly good that you found out now that he seems to be more stable” 

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Collie, open your notes app right now” Richard says. “We need to figure this out”

 Collie sighs with relief. 

 “Exactly, Richie, thank you” he opens the notes app.

 “Okay so, for starters, there’s no way you’re not doing this in person,” Pete says.

 The guys quickly start to chime in with ideas about what to do, with Collie often adding some of his own. Most of them are standard: Asking Gary to meet up and tell him, maybe turn the outing into a date. They have been brainstorming for around fifteen minutes when a new voice joins the conversation. 

 “May I interrupt?” Clementine asks.

 “Sure thing” Collie says. “The more the merrier”

 “Thank you. It’s just that, I couldn’t help but notice, you boys are going through every possible way to go about this except for the right one. Which is strange because it’s also the most simple solution. You know what I’m talking about?” 

 Collie looks at the ceiling for a second and then it dawns on him.

 “I do,” he says. “Fuck, Clem, you’re a fucking genius” 

 “Tell me something I don’t know” is her response. 

 “Okay, I have to leave you guys, good talk” Collie hangs up the call and stands up from the bed, looking for a pen and paper. 

+1: The first letter (to the other side)

 Gary Barkovitch had never been too familiar with the concept of romanticism. 

 He knew about it from the movies he watched, but he didn’t really believe it was something that could leave your TV screen, not when his parents were screaming at each other from the other side of the room about whatever. Even his meemaw, who Gary enjoyed spending time with more than with them, only had bad things to say about her husband, who had left them when Gary’s father was a little older than him. Maybe that’s why he was always so angry.

 As he grew older, Gary realized that the thing he thought was just for the movies was actually real. He saw couples kissing on the streets and parents pushing their kids on the swings instead of onto the floor. That sort of love didn’t seem to be for Gary for some reason. It made him angry. It didn’t help that he apparently didn’t know shit about how to interact with other kids his age, who would laugh at whatever he said and run away from him during recess. And so, Gary became angry, just like papa. He yelled, he talked back to the kids that laughed at him, and pushed them if it came to that, the way papa pushed him when he was mad. Because the alternative was crying and his parents hated it when he cried. They said it made him look like a sissy. 

 Gary’s parents divorced when he was eleven years old. Papa didn’t want custody. Gary was strangely okay and not okay at all with it at the same time, which was another thing to be confused about. He didn’t say goodbye with them when they moved, but meemaw did, kissing Gary on the forehead and giving him a keychain with the shape of a cat, telling him that it would give him good luck.

 It wouldn’t. The new school was as bad as the last one, the kids making fun of him for his accent and telling him he ‘tried too hard’ when he tried to join any group. Home life wasn't much better, even with pa gone. Mama didn’t hit him, but she always rolled her eyes when Gary talked, no matter what the subject was. He would sometimes go to her for comfort about his issues at school, but she didn’t want to hear it.

 “If all you’re going to do is complain, I might as well send you back to your father’s” she would sometimes say under her breath, loud enough for him to hear so that he would shut up. And he did: Gary knew that his father wouldn’t want any sort of custody of him, but he wasn’t dumb enough to try and challenge that. He’d much rather stay with his mother and be yelled at than go to his father’s to be literally pushed around. Neither of Gary’s parents seemed to like him that much.

 Hell, not even objects liked Gary Barkovitch that much, since he couldn’t even get a fucking KitKat from the vending machine, the snack stopping just inches before falling. 

 “Fuck!” Gary cried out, trying to make the snack fall. Hot tears were forming on his eyes. 

 “Do you need help with that?” 

 Gary turned around, facing a boy around his age with shoulder-long dark brown hair and black eyes that were observing Gary, not with malice, but still weary. He was wearing jeans and a band shirt. Collie Parker. He was in some of Gary’s classes. 

 Seeing that he wasn’t answering, Parker went to the vending machine and kicked the side of it with enough strength that the KitKat finally fell. Gary looked at him, surprised at the gesture. He wanted to thank him, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. 

 “Okay. See you later” Parker said, walking away. Gary watched him leave, dumbfounded. 

 Ever since that moment, he started noticing Collie Parker in every room he entered. He saw him joking around with his friends, making silly faces when the teachers weren’t looking, hugging his mother and what was most likely his little sister at the parking lot. But Gary also noticed how Collie was sometimes quiet, often listening instead of contributing to the conversation. He was cool as fuck. But still, Gary didn’t approach him, because he knew that people like him could never be friends with Collie Parker. Plus, Parker’s friends hated Gary’s guts. 

 But, as the weeks went by, Gary couldn’t help but feel as if whatever feelings Parker awakened in him didn't seem to go away. A school counselor had told him once that journaling was a great way to express feelings and, when their art teacher announced what they would be doing for Valentine’s Day, an idea formed into Gary’s mind. And so, he wrote a message, short and simple, the few words conveying his feelings of jealousy and admiration. It still made him feel dirty, like he was doing something wrong. Boys didn’t write Valentine’s Day letters, especially to other boys.

 “I don’t have a better day to do it” he muttered as he rocked back and forth in his room the day before, scratching his neck until the skin broke. “Any other day would be suspicious” 

 He almost didn’t place the message, a part of him screaming that only sissies left notes for other boys on Valentine’s Day, but then Parker gave him back his keychain and, before Gary could overthink it too much, he put the note on Parker’s desk as soon as he saw that the classroom was empty. 

 Minutes later, when he was in the bathroom trying to scrub the glitter out of his face, he thought that maybe this was better than watching Parker read his letter. A part of him was scared someone had somehow figured it out, but nobody said anything, so he calmed down, figuring out that now that he had gotten his thoughts out he could live normally again. 

 It wasn’t the case.

 If anything, he started noticing Parker even more after giving him the note. Not to mention, a part of him was curious about his thoughts about it, and another one had felt good being able to have a small part of his mind for somebody else to know. 

 So, a couple of months after Valentine’s Day, Gary wrote another one, a bit longer than the last one. He made sure to write slowly as possible to make his handwriting legible and then, during P.E class, he managed to put it inside Collie’s bag. When Gary saw the way Collie’s eyes lightened up when he noticed it, he knew that he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. 

 Gary always put as much effort as possible in his notes to make sure they couldn’t be traced back to him. Sometimes, he talked about vague things like his grandmother or how he wanted to get a pet cat when he was older, but he didn’t mention stuff like any anecdote that happened during class or that he liked photography, as those details could reduce the possibilities of who the author was. But, despite how little information he shared, Gary was still sharing a part of himself through the letters towards none other than Collie Parker, the coolest guy in the grade. It was the closest thing he would have to a confidant, a friend. 

 Gary Barkovitch realised he was gay two weeks after turning fourteen. He was at a baseball match Collie was playing at to take photos for the school paper. He went to those often since things at home had gotten worse: His mother had gotten a new boyfriend and he looked at Gary in the same way he looked at the spiders that made their cobwebs behind the living room door, like a nuisance. So, Gary went to the little league matches, sometimes as a spectator, sometimes hiding so that people wouldn’t notice he was there for all of them. 

 He had sneaked into the dressing room to leave one of his notes and was sitting in the bleachers, watching the boys tease each other. At some point, Collie lifted the note Gary had written up in the air and he couldn’t help but take a picture of the moment, catching their attention. Flustered, he walked away, even though he didn’t want to. He wanted Collie to know he had written the letter, wanted Collie to walk up to him and tell him thank you for the note, to hug him to kiss him-

 The last thought made him stop in his tracks, and he felt nauseous. No. No, no, no, There was no way that Gary… He wasn’t… Gary Barkovitch couldn’t like boys… right? 

 But he did, and a part of him had always known. Gary had never paid much attention to the girls in his class, no matter how pretty they were. And straight guys didn’t spend two years sending little letters to other guys just out of admiration or jealousy, or going to little league matches just so they could snap a picture of that same guy. A tear fell down his cheek and he slapped it off. When he arrived home, he went straight to the bathroom and vomited out of panic, crying some more. He was gay. Gary Barkovitch was a fucking sissy and there was nothing he could do about it. No one he could tell either: He had no friends, and his mama and her boyfriend had made their views about that particular subject more than clear, as had his father. 

 That night, he decided he would just live with it. Being into boys was the least of things that was wrong with him either way. People hated him because of his personality, not his sexuality. It didn’t matter what gender he liked, he was never going to find a crowd, somebody willing to stick by his side. Not that he could blame them. 

 For a couple of years, those were the thoughts that plagued his mind every day. He still left notes for Collie, because it was the only thing that gave him some sort of comfort. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he imagined scenarios in which he would confess he was the one writing the letters and Collie would like him back and take him to the cinema and hold his hand and lent him his jacket when Gary was cold and kiss him on the back of his car like he would die if he didn’t because Gary definitely would.

 By senior year, he was a mess. His meemaw was getting older and didn’t call as often, and his mother and stepfather ignored him at best and insulted him at worst. Once he was eighteen, he would be kicked out and that meant a life working at a gas station, minimum wage until he died of old age or maybe he’d do the job himself. Who the fuck would even care?

 A few weeks before the end of the year, Gary decided to skip class in the library. He settled on a far corner, reading a book from the horror section. Gary liked horror novels, mostly because the characters in those had worse lives than his. Suddenly, he heard a conversation that made his skin crawl. 

 “I really hope she says yes” Art Baker was saying. 

 “Of course he’s going to say yes!” Richard Harkness responded. “She clearly likes Collie, otherwise she wouldn’t spend years writing him notes”

 Gary lifted his head from his book, trying not to hyperventilate. What the fuck they were talking about?

 “I mean, yeah, but there is a jump from writing notes to being invited to prom,” Baker said. Gary’s ears started to buzz. “But I’ll guess we’ll know on Friday”

 The bell rang soon after and Gary went to the bathroom to throw up. Collie Parker wanted to ask him to prom. Wrong. Collie Parker wanted to ask the person who had written him the letters to prom. A person who wasn’t a girl. 

 For a moment, Gary let himself imagine it. Collie asking him to prom with a smile that would make his already handsome face light up, picking Gary up from his house, slow dancing in the middle of the gym. But the fantasy dissolved like paper on water. Collie would turn him down the moment he figured out that Gary was behind the notes. He didn’t like men, he was a normal guy, unlike Gary. That fantasy was just that, a fantasy, something from another world. 

 He would say yes, though. Even if Collie asked him purely out of principle and pity, Gary would say yes. So, he needed to make sure he wouldn’t ask him at all. 

 Writing that short goodbye note was one of the hardest things he had to do. Watching Collie’s sad face during class after he read it was not easy either. It almost made him want to come clean just to apologize. I just can’t do it to you, he would say. I can’t make you deal with me. 

 Fate had a funny way to move the strings of life, because he and Collie had their longest conversation ever that same day. Collie telling Gary he should leave town stayed with him. He tossed and turned every night, thinking about it. 

 You have two options, a voice inside his head told him. Either you stay here forever or you grow a pair and go do literally anything else. 

 And, not long after graduation, he made his decision, packing up his stuff and leaving town when his mother and stepfather weren’t home. He arrived at meemaw’s house two days after. She was getting sicker every day, but she was still happy to have him close. Gary took a minimum wage job at the grocery store to generate more income and get her better healthcare. He didn’t tell her about his sexuality, mostly because he still barely could accept it himself, and also because he knew that she wouldn’t react very well to it. And she was the only family member that seemed to genuinely love him, something he selfishly didn’t want to change.

 That didn’t prevent her dying from a heart attack seven months after Gary had moved in. His father went to the funeral and they made eye contact on the church’s door, but they didn’t say a word to each other, didn’t even sit on the same row during the service. She left everything to Gary on her will. The money wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

 Gary sold the house and moved to a new city, looking for fresh air. It was relatively close to the town he had spent his teenage years in, but it still felt new. The first year and a half was rough. He got a job at the cinema and immediately started on the wrong foot with his coworker Rank when he made fun of his name. 

 “I know you are not saying anything to me when you are literally called Gary” was his answer.

 The new city and being away from anybody who knew him from before gave Gary the push he needed to allow himself to act on his sexuality. He started going to gay clubs, letting men that were more often than not a few years older than him buy him shots in exchange of Gary sucking them off in the alley behind the place. His hookups were fast and dirty, and the guys never really bothered to give Gary their names or remember his. Hell, they didn’t even care if Gary got off during their encounters. It didn’t matter. Gary Barkovitch had given up on experiencing tenderness a long time ago. He didn’t have sex with these guys for pleasure, he did it as a way to get all of his repression out of his system without consequences. 

 One night, after drinking too much, he had stumbled onto Rank of all people in the bathroom of one of the clubs. After a while of going back and forth, Rank and Gary’s other coworkers, Stella and Janey, had managed to take Gary back to his apartment, staying the night with him to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit and die. The next morning, Gary had been so embarrassed after the whole thing he had a mental breakdown in front of them. Rank and the girls had calmly talked him through it and Gary had bought them breakfast as an apology. And, just as that, a few weeks after, Gary found himself having friends for the first time in his life. Great fucking friends. 

 Having a support system of his own did wonders to Gary, who decided that he needed to make more changes to his life. He cut off the drinking and, after a lot of reassuring from his friends that it was a normal thing to do, he found an affordable therapist near his house. Dr. Santos was a nice woman, ready to both console and call out Gary when he needed to. He decided to not let his passion for photography, something that had been born out of him signing up to the school newspaper to not be at home as much as a genuine love for the camera, die, managing to get himself into online classes. He changed his entire wardrobe, experimenting with light makeup every once in a while. He adopted a cat from a nearby shelter and cried whenever she snuggled up to him. Sure, he still fucked up and fooled around, letting any guy who called him pretty do whatever he wanted with him, but he was happy. He was getting better. 

 And then he saw Collie fucking Parker behind a bar counter, the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen and smiling at him like Gary was something worth smiling at. That first encounter had been super embarrassing, but during the second one he found it in himself to apologize. Collie had been clearly surprised by it, not knowing that Gary was actually asking for forgiveness about that last note he had sent. After talking it over with Dr. Santos, he had decided to send one over winter break as a way to finally close that chapter for good. 

 Ever since then, things have gotten even better! Collie and him are friends now and that whole group has somehow found it in themselves to forgive Gary for being a little shit in high school. Everything is going great for Gary Barkovitch. 

 Which is why he breaks out crying when he opens the white envelope that he had found in his mailbox with no name or return address and recognizes Collie’s handwriting on the paper inside. 

 He knew writing that last letter for the reunion was a bad idea. He knew and he still did it anyway because he liked bad ideas more than he liked to recognize himself. He sits on the couch, covering his face with his hands. Trixie rubs against his leg.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck” Gary mumbles, tugging at his hair. He didn’t want Collie to know. It was too embarrassing, too personal. But, somehow, he saw him putting the note inside his bag or somebody else saw and ratted him out, it doesn’t matter. Collie knows. 

 After five minutes or so of crying, Gary stabilizes himself and tries to rationalize with his mind. Surely Collie wouldn’t write him a letter to reject him, that would be overly cruel of him and Collie Parker is not a cruel person. If he wanted to turn Gary down, he would’ve asked him to meet or call him to do so directly and as gently as he could. No, that letter is not a rejection. It’s a fucking invitation. 

 That doesn’t make Gary calm down. If anything, quite the fucking opposite. He can’t date Collie Parker. He’s better now than he used to be, but he’s still… well, himself. There’s stuff inside of him that no amount of therapy, cats or sex will ever fix or take away, demons that are here to stay, Gary knows this. But what is he going to do, reject him? Pretend the letter got lost in the mail and never got to him? The simple thought of that makes him feel pure dread inside of him. 

 “What do I do?” he asks Trixie. She meows at him. “Well, aren’t you a smart one?” he sobs, looking at the envelope, his fingers itching to open it. He closes his eyes and takes a big breath, all of his thoughts drifting away except from one. 

 You fucking idiot, what are you waiting for? 

 Gary grabs the envelope and opens it, grabbing the note. He begins reading, feeling his heart picking up with every new word.

Gary

There’s no other way I should or want to do this. I know you must have a lot of thoughts running through that complicated pretty little head of yours, but I beg you to read this first without letting them get to you. 

I don’t know if you ever planned to tell me, and I won’t blame you if you didn’t. I know you have your reasons. Plus, this is not really about that. I have been thinking and I agree with what you said in the letter you sent on winter break. It was for the best that we didn’t end up meeting back then, but not for the reasons you think. You think you were the only one that would’ve ruined it, but I probably would’ve too, since I was also a stupid teenager and probably wouldn’t have handled the situation with the care it needed. But I am not a stupid teenager anymore and neither are you, Gary. 

Back then, when I received your letters (I still have all of them, by the way), I perceived you as the person that you really are: a funny, smart soul with a mind full of interesting thoughts. And you are that person, Gary, you always have been. I knew it then, back when you hid that true part of yourself behind your fear and pain, just like I have known it ever since we reconnected, when you let yourself change to leave as much of that baggage as you could behind to let the real you show. Which, just so you know, it’s one of the bravest fucking things a person can do, in my humble opinion. I’m not writing this letter because I found out you’ve written to me before, I was always going to write this because I like you, Gary Barkovitch, believe it or not. I have for a while. I wasn’t going to do anything about it because I was afraid, just like you were back then, but, if I have realized something in the last hours of my life, it’s that neither of us deserve to be in fear anymore. 

There’s so much else I want to say, but I’d prefer if I do so while looking at you. I know it’s too late to take you to prom, so what do you say about a movie instead? 

Meet me at the cinema at four fifteen. 

That 's all.

Yours, Collie. 

 When he finishes the letter, Gary is laughing and crying at the same time. He reads it again and again, just to make sure it’s real and he isn’t going to wake up in his bed any second from now. But the letter stays and Gary is wide awake, never having felt more happy and nervous in his entire life. He looks at the clock and stands up, going to his room. He is not showing up to a date with Collie Parker with sweatpants on. 

 Gary rumages to his closet and, after a while, manages to pull together a decent outfit. He showers and changes into it, looking into the mirror for a couple of minutes to make sure he looks presentable. He then paints his nails the same tone of dark blue as the sweater he has chosen and lays onto his bed as he waits for them to dry. He cannot fuck this up. Gary won’t fuck this up.

 He makes sure that Trixie has food and then leaves his apartment. The cinema it’s a walking distance from it, and Gary’s heart does something funny when he thinks about how Collie probably did it on purpose, knowing that Gary is not too fond of public transport or driving, since it stresses him out. 

 He gets there twenty minutes later. He sits down on a bench near the entrance of the building. After a while, Gary pulls out his phone to distract himself. It’s not like he thinks he’ll stand him up, but the situation still feels too surreal to him to be calm as he waits. 

 “Waiting for somebody?” 

 Gary yelps as he turns around, being face to face with Collie’s smiling face. He’s wearing a dark red shirt and dark jeans, along with a leather jacket.

 “You fucking scared me” Gary says, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his heartbeat go twice as quickly as it should be. “Good idea to give your date a heart attack”

 “So it’s a date then?” Collie asks, faking indifference. Gary glares at him. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. Here” He pulls a bouquet from behind his bag, composed of a thousand of small white dots wrapped together. Gary grabs the bouquet in awe, feeling himself blush even harder.

 “Wow” it’s all he says. 

 “They are called ‘baby breaths’,” Collie chuckles. “Been wanting to give them to you for a while” 

 Gary doesn’t ask how long he means when he says ‘a while’, even though he has an idea. Instead he sighs, looking to the floor. 

 “Thank you” he says before looking back at Collie. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before”

 “Don’t be,” Collie reassures him. Gary bites his lower lip, trying to reorganise his thoughts as best as he possibly can.

 “You were right, in your letter. I have been trying to change for the better, to leave the scared and angry boy I used to be behind… But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not completely. And, sometimes, he comes out again and…” 

 Collie stares at him with confusion. 

 “Okay?” he says. Gary frowns in response at the interruption. “I still like you. A lot. I am very aware that you have a lot of baggage you won’t ever be fully able to get rid of, but you’re so much more than that. I can’t fix you, but I can support you in any way I can, if you do the same for me in return”

 Gary opens his mouth to say something, but his throat is closed up. He is going to cry again. Instead, he wraps his arms around Collie’s neck and hugs him as hard as he can. Collie quickly hugs him back, holding him by his waist. 

 “Of course I will,” he whispers. 

 “I know,” Collie answers, holding him impossibly closer. 

 “I like you too,” Gary mutters against Collie’s shoulder. He feels the way Collie chuckles. 

 “Oh really?” he asks with irony. It only makes Gary’s hold tighten.

 “Fuck off” is his response. "I know you know, but I wanted to tell you. I mean, you’re a cheesy son of a bitch, so don’t act like you didn’t want to hear me say it-”

 “Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Barkovitch”

 Gary pulls away just enough so that his face is inches away from Collie’s. He closes his eyes and, soon enough, they’re kissing. It’s not like the kisses Gary usually has, sloppy and messy, a means to an end. The tenderness it’s unmistakable, even though it’s mixed with passion. When they separate, they are both smiling. Being so close together, Gary is now realising he’s actually a few inches taller than Collie is. Collie brushes his thumbs against his cheeks, and Gary realizes he has teared up during it.

 “You weren’t actually kidding before, right?” he dares to ask, his chest buzzy with a mixture of nervousness and pure euphoria. Collie arches his eyebrows. “This is a date, I mean?”

 “I mean, I sure fucking hope so, unless there’s another guy you’ve been writing letters to” he jokes. Gary lets out a nervous laugh as he adjusts his arms’ position on Collie’s shoulders and Collie answers by rubbing his thumbs on Gary’s hips, making him shiver. He’s not used to being touched so affectionately in a romantic way, let alone in public. It makes him want to pull Collie closer and also run away at the same time. 

 “Okay, I just wanted to make sure” Gary licks his lips, not missing the way Collie looks almost hypnotized at the action. “Did you really keep the letters?” 

 “All of them” Collie responds with a note. “And I’ll keep as many as you write me” 

 Gary knows that he could never write something able to describe the pure happiness he’s feeling right now but, as he pulls Collie closer for another kiss, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life trying.