“No anniversary lunches today, right?” I asked.
She smiled. “Yes, it’s our two-month-and-five-day anniversary. You understand, right?”
We settled into our spot under a tree. I hadn’t picked this spot because it had the best view of Lucas—that was just a happy coincidence. My eyes scanned the commons again. Maybe my letter writer was someone I already knew. But who?
I scribbled in my notebook as The Crooked Brookes blasted through my headphones. I couldn’t wait to write to my Chemistry friend the next day and tell her how awesome this music was. The song was raw and unapologetic and oh-so-depressing. But for whatever reason, it had inspired me. A song about secrets was twisting its way through my head and out of my pen.
If I tell you my secrets, will you just tell me lies?
If I say I believe you, does that make it all right?
It’s hard to place my trust in someone new,
But that doesn’t mean
A tapping on my back interrupted my thought. I looked over to see my brother, Jonah, standing by my bed.
I clicked off the music. “Hey, Thing Two, what’s up?”
“Will you read me a story?” He was already holding the book.
“You can read.”
“I like it when you read.”
My notebook was begging me to continue, pleading with me as it sat there on my pillow.
“Sure, buddy,” I said. “Come on up.” I shut my notebook and Jonah climbed onto my bed with a smile.
He handed me the first Harry Potter. “And do the voices, too.”
“So demanding.”
I had been reading for twenty minutes when Jonah’s attention wavered. His finger tapped the perfectly cut-out newspaper article about the songwriting competition I had pinned to my wall. “What’s that?”
“That’s just me dreaming … like always.”
“Dreaming is fun,” Jonah said. “I dreamed about dinosaurs last night. What did you dream about?”
My eyes darted to the notebook I had abandoned on my pillow, then back to my brother. “I dreamed about a little prince named Jonah who had three older siblings who always gave him whatever he wanted because he was the most spoiled prince in all the land.”
Jonah stuck out his lower lip. “I am not.”
“I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about Prince Jonah, from my dream. Do you think everyone is talking about you all the time?”
“Yes.”
I tickled him. “Good night, Prince Jonah.”
“I thought I was Thing Two.”
“Only when you make messes.” I gently pushed him off my bed with my feet. “Speaking of messes, how is that rabbit of yours?”
“Mom won’t let him sleep in my bed.”
“Mom makes good decisions sometimes. Have you given him a name?”
“Bugs Rabbit.”
“You mean Bugs Bunny?”
He scrunched his lips together. “We call him Bugs Rabbit.”
“Really? But then how are you going to remember it?”
“It’s easy. His name is Bugs and he’s a rabbit.”
“Does nobody in the world use alliteration anymore?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Will you take us trick-or-treating Friday?”
“That’s right, Friday is Halloween.”
Jonah put his little fists on his hips. “Did you forget?”
“No, but I’m too old for trick-or-treating … so Halloween isn’t such a big deal anymore.”
“I’m never going to get too old for trick-or-treating.”
I ruffled his hair. “Yes, of course I can take you … in exchange for a piece of candy.”
Jonah gave a yelp of joy as he ran out of my room.
“One of the good ones!” I called after him.
I opened my notebook back up to the lyrics I’d been writing, but it was too late. The inspiration was gone. If I tried to write a song right now, it’d be about rabbits, dinosaurs, and Halloween candy. Almost as good as monsters in trees. I’d have to try again later.
“Monsters in trees,” I said to Isabel the next morning when I saw her by our lockers.
“What?”
“That’s what I thought about before going to bed last night. Are we doing this or not?”
She clapped her hands, then bit her lip in thought.
I laughed. “Gabriel, right?”
“Shhh. There was something after that. I’m trying to remember. Oh! Nutella crepes.”
“Now I’m hungry.”
“And I’m confused,” Isabel said, shutting her locker. “Monsters in trees?”
“Fake song idea. But I actually started a real song, one I’ll read to you when I’m done.”
“I’d like that.”