As quietly as possible, I unfolded the paper and smoothed it flat. It was as if this was the most normal thing in the world, like this person and I exchanged notes all the time.
So, did you listen to The Crooked Brookes? What did you think? Maybe it was too dark for you. It is kind of a depressing band. But I thought if you liked Blackout you might like them. Sometimes listening to depressing songs makes me feel like my life isn’t so bad. Reverse psychology or something. Ha. Well, hopefully this note distracted you for at least one minute. Writing back will take another couple. Then you’ll only have … an eternity to sit through. Sorry.
I laughed quietly. So my pen pal liked Blackout and hated Chemistry. We were kindred spirits. I turned the paper over, trying to decide what to write back. This would be my third message to her, I realized.
I’d started a cute tradition with a total stranger completely unknowingly. It felt a little like cheating. No, this wasn’t cheating. I’d already told Isabel about it. And this wasn’t even a real friendship. It was a distraction. Besides, Isabel had other friends. I could have an anonymous pen pal. Anonymous friends were perfect for me.
I haven’t had a chance to listen to The Crooked Brookes. Life at home is a bit … chaotic. I will the first chance I get. I’m all for music that makes my life seem better. And you’re right, Blackout is depressing, but they’re not only depressing. Track 8 on their Blue album, for example. I’ve never felt more alive than when listening to that song. It makes me feel like I’m flying. Soaring above my life and looking down on it. Being above it for a while makes it easier to live when I’m back in the middle of it, if that makes any sense at all. Anyway, I better get back to the mind-numbing boredom.
For a moment I couldn’t believe I had written that to a total stranger. I even considered not folding the paper back up and putting it under the desk. But two things made me do it. One: When talking about music, I always found myself opening up more than I might have otherwise. People who appreciated music like I did seemed to understand that. I sensed my pen pal would. Two, anonymity was freeing. I could say a lot when I didn’t have to sign my name at the end. And I didn’t.
I stuffed the note back into place under the desk and got to work on a few Chemistry notes that I was still required to show Mr. Ortega at the end of each period.
I must’ve still felt a little guilty about the letter exchange because at lunch, I blurted out to Isabel, “She wrote me a letter.”
Isabel, known for her drastic subject changes, didn’t follow mine. “What?”
We were walking back from the food trucks with our burritos and sodas. Isabel loved getting “fake Mexican food,” as she called it, even though her dad made the best real Mexican food on earth. Maybe it was her form of teenage rebellion.
“Remember I told you about writing back and forth with that girl in Chemistry?” I began as we started toward the outdoor student commons. “The one who likes the same band as me?”
“Yes,” Isabel said. “I thought it was a guy.”
“No. She wrote something about wanting to be Lyssa Primm when she grows up.”
“Who’s Lyssa Primm?”
“The lead singer of Blackout.”
“Aw, how cute, you found a new weird pen pal. The two of you are like the same person.” She hip checked me.
“Two of me? Our school couldn’t handle that.”
“So true.”
“But anyway, she left me a longer letter under the desk this time and I wrote back.”
Isabel let out a hum. “Who do you think she is?”
“I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you curious? Maybe it’s someone you already know. It’s obviously someone you’d get along with.” She scanned the commons. Students were clustered in groups, divided by grade, eating and laughing and throwing balled-up napkins at each other. I spotted Lucas sitting with his friends, and tried not to stare. Especially since I got caught by Isabel last time. “We should find out.”
“No.” I knew it was silly to feel insecure about what others thought of me, but I couldn’t help it. I was worried if this girl found out who I was, she wouldn’t find me cool enough for her. Besides that, I’d already decided that anonymity made writing so much easier. And this letter exchange was my sanity in Chemistry. “It’s just a fun distraction. I really don’t want to know.”
Isabel shrugged. “Okay. Fine. If it were me, my curiosity wouldn’t be able to leave it alone.”
And I wondered if her curiosity would be able to leave it alone even though it wasn’t her. I gave her my best “we are not pursuing this” look and let it go.