Love, Creekwood - Becky Albertalli Page 0,1
on Elizabethan poetry. So enjoy your freedom while it lasts, Simon. Go live your wild orientation-week life doing shots of butterbeer or whatever the fuck at your nerd frat.
Did I mention I miss you?
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: SEP 9 AT 11:51 AM
SUBJECT: WAKE UP, ABBY
I don’t know how you do it, Abby Suso, but it’s almost noon and you’re still sleeping. Remember that drunk girl on the quad who was mad she couldn’t bring a guy home to make out because her roommate was there sleeping? Abby, you are the sleeping roommate who is preventing my makeouts. Can I file a formal complaint about this?
You’re so cute, though. Look at you. You’re just this lump of blankets on the bed with one elbow sticking out.
Anyway, this is me sending you love letters like Simon and Bram, because they’re gross, and we should be more gross. So wake up and respond to this email, okay? Doesn’t have to be in writing.
Respectfully,
LCB
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: SEP 10 AT 10:10 PM
SUBJECT: RE: I DON’T LIKE THIS
Jacques,
You know what’s been an unexpectedly hard adjustment? The fact that we don’t know all the same people anymore. I know that’s such a weird thing to miss. But it was really its own kind of language, having all those people in common: Garrett and Abby and Leah and Nick and everyone, even Martin. And now I’m surrounded by people you’ve never met, and you’re surrounded by people I’ve never met, and I don’t know, Simon. I really miss inhabiting your universe.
Okay, I just stopped and counted up the number of days since we’ve seen each other, and it’s been less than two weeks. Thirteen days. I bet you haven’t even done laundry yet, have you? God, I miss you. I miss you every single second.
I want to know every detail about your life, okay? I want to know about Kellan and his Stephen King fetish, and whether you’re wearing shower shoes to the bathroom, and who the most annoying person is in every single one of your classes. I want the stuff you think is too boring to share.
Here’s my update: I had peanut butter toast for breakfast. Best class of the day was poli-sci, because we had this amazing lecture about spotting misinformation in news articles (I’ll save the real geeking out for FaceTime so you can properly make fun of me). Also, I think you may be right about that girl Ella with the tongue piercing. She caught a glimpse of my lock screen today and was weirdly flustered about it? But it actually ended up being a fun conversation. She was really curious about you (“What’s his name? How soon is he transferring here? Why’s he wearing a tux in an American Girl store?” ALL VERY GOOD QUESTIONS).
What else? Hmm. The libertarian edgelord from econ blessed us today with some brilliant advocacy on behalf of the devil! I know I loved being stuck in class an extra fifteen minutes to really soak in that game-changing wisdom. Then I showered and did some problem sets and fell madly in love with your latest Instagram selfie (excuse me, how is your face even legal?). And I had peanut butter toast again for dinner, because there’s nothing more delicious than not walking into a giant dining hall full of strangers.
So that was my day. I didn’t stop missing you for a minute. How was yours?
Love,
Blue
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: SEP 11 AT 12:07 AM
SUBJECT: RE: I DON’T LIKE THIS
“I really miss inhabiting your universe.” Hello, is that a euphemism?? And in related news, can we discuss your intentions re: the phrase “unexpectedly hard”????
I miss you. Yup. Every minute. Every second. Honestly, missing you feels like the whole point of my day. Which kind of scares me, you know? Is it supposed to feel like this? Why did I think it would be easier? But Bram, hear me out. I think I left half my heart in your dorm room.
Ah yes, the libertarian edgelord. What a treat. Have I told you about the one in my psych class? Front row, gelled-up bangs, passionately defending the Stanford Prison Experiment by day three of class. Not gonna lie, I’m starting to suspect they plant one of these dudes in every 101 class as part of some big social psychology experiment. Or maybe . . . maybe COLLEGE ITSELF is one big social psych experiment, and we’re the test subjects. *cue dramatic music* *close-up on my gaping-mouthed face*
Okay. My day. Let’s see. Kellan was up