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Lucy smiled at the girls in the mailroom, dipping her head politely. There was a creamy white envelope in her cubby; she’d been told there was something for her, but she’d been checking more regularly anyway with the holiday.
‟Another one?”
‟I know she’s popular-
‟-and so pretty!”
‟Yes Jean, thank you. Still, half the school across the way must have sent her a valentine by now. . .”
‟I swear if she wasn’t so nice I could just hate her.” Jean sighed wistfully.
Lucy shook her head slightly, amused more than anything at the conversation of the girls behind her, low enough they probably thought she couldn’t hear. She collected the envelope, turning it over-
Her breath caught and she grinned, biting her lip. She ran her fingers over the fine script; there was no name, no return address, nothing but Lucy’s own name and an elegant inked heart, but she knew that hand. As well - better - than her own, from the meanest, weariest scribbles to the finest, most formal documents.
‟Oh! That one-”
A yelp made Lucy turn, startled.
‟You look awfully pleased with it, Lucy.” The girl’s elbow was planted in her friend’s ribs. The yelp, Lucy thought, amused. ‟Someone special?”
Lucy considered for a long moment, running her thumb along the edge of the envelope. Likely no one else here would recognise her sister’s delicate hand on it, even if Susan did write her often. Clearly identified as such most times, if not today - and no one else read their letters, though they mainly kept to more innocuous topics and phrases that would be easily dismissed, they knew from experience, as sisterly fondness, just as a precaution.
‟The only one,” Lucy admitted softly, grinning, ‟special, and. . . I didn’t know I’d be getting this one.” She held the letter close.
That produced a flurry of open curiosity, accompanied by warm smiles that would have made Lucy happy enough to let the teasing slide off her even if she weren’t in such a good mood.
‟I don’t suppose you’re going to tell us anything else, are you?”
Lucy tipped her head, smiling her best attempt at Susan’s above it all but kindly regard. ‟Nope!” she said, and extricated herself from their conversation, the letter practically burning in her fingers.
Laughter followed her as she darted out into the corridor, turning towards the stairs.
‟Can’t be surprised at that.”
‟My cousin was in with her sister, and she was just as secretive apparently.”
Oh, you have no idea, Lucy thought, giggling as she raced up the stairs - this time her unbecoming hurry was not only amusing but, it seemed, expected, by the grace of the letter she held.
Lucy tumbled into her dorm - empty at this time of the afternoon - and threaded her way to her bed closest to the window, ripping into the letter with her heart fluttering, smile only widening as she pictured Susan’s fond exasperation at the messy tear rather than slowing down to find a letter opener.