One week after the move
Sorry I disappeared. You know how Amelia is. Spontaneous. Secretive. Annoying.
Anyway, we've moved to Colorado. And though you might think everyone here are hicks, they aren't. I'll fill you in later.
But anyway, I'll be starting school in a week. Believe that? I'm super nervous. I don't know anyone here still. I've just been hiding out in my new room lately because I'm still really mad at Amelia for not giving me a heads-up on this whole thing. I really miss you.
The air is really thin here, and it's really dry, too. My skin is getting really dry and I've been getting nosebleeds a lot.
Tell me when you get your phone back. I'll text you.
Tell Jacqueline I'll write to her soon, but I need her address.
* * *
I set down my old-fashion fountain pen and looked at the crumpled up pieces of paper scattered around my trash can. No, I would not throw this one away.
My words were finally true and real. In the four other letters before this, I was expressing my love for my new cramped room and the early sunsets that did not reflect over the water. I was telling her that I had made a group of friends already, yet none could replce her, ever. I was telling her how confident I felt in going to school. How confident I was that this was going to all work out. How I just knew Amelia was going to get a new, high-paying job and then we would move back to Florida in a couple of years, maybe even months!
But all of those were lies. And I could not lie to my best friend. How could I live with myself, feeding my friend lies just to make her feel better?
No. I couldn't.
So, instead, I wrote the new letter, read and reread it several times, then finally grabbed an envelope and stuffed the letter inside. I opened my desk drawer and grabbed a stamp.
It almost felt as if sending Maddie a letter was getting in touch with my past.