Love, Creekwood - Becky Albertalli Page 0,2
at five thirty, *noisily* screwing in a Pennywise light switch cover. B, I’m not even convinced this is about Stephen King. I think he just really likes Pennywise. Maybe clowns in general. Anyway! I guess my day was basically like yours. Class, shower, etc. No comment re: the shower shoes. I don’t really have any girls in love with me though (I TOLD YOU, BRAM. I TOLD YOU). I think people are clocking me as gay, maybe? Could it be the rainbow shoelaces? Or the fact that I’m incapable of going five minutes without mentioning my boyfriend?? Anyway, I like it. It’s refreshing!
To respond to Ella’s most excellent questions:
1. My name: His Royal Highness Simon Irvin Lovesick Sad Bramless Spier the first, of Oreo House.
2. DON’T TEMPT ME.
3. Garrett Laughlin.
Now go eat some real food, okay? I love you way too much to let you miss out on dining hall grilled cheese.
Sincerely,
HRH Simon ILSB Spier
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: SEP 20 AT 12:17 AM
SUBJECT: HAPPY
Guess what—it’s your birthday!!! I know it’s weird to be emailing you when you’re currently sleeping two feet away from my desk, but listen up, freckle face. I have to tell you something, and I don’t trust myself to say this properly when you’re making bedroom eyes at me (don’t deny it. You think I don’t know what your bedroom eyes look like? I live in your bedroom).
So here’s the deal: I know four-letter L words scare you (which, not gonna lie, is a BOLD stance coming from a girl whose name is literally a four-letter L word). But the truth is, I don’t need you to declare a single thing, because it’s written all over your face. Those are the facts. You come with subtitles, and you don’t even realize it.
Hate to break it to you, Leah Burke, but you’re in love with me.
I can’t stop thinking about the game last Saturday. I swear, I’m grinning my face off right now. Just the thought of my nerdy drummer girlfriend earnestly typing into her phone for two hours, not even glancing up for touchdowns. Didn’t think it was possible to crank out an entire sociology essay in your notes app during a division one college football game. But then again, it’s you.
You in your Creekwood homecoming shirt with the collar cut wide. Me, openly spellbound by your shoulder freckles. So many mysteries all wrapped up in one girl. Like the fact that Leah “fuck homecoming” Burke somehow managed to acquire a CHS homecoming shirt in the first place. Or the fact that you wore it to a UGA home game. I don’t know if you noticed the tens of thousands of people in the stands wearing red. But I loved how little it fazed you, no self-consciousness whatsoever (this from a girl who double-proofreads every Instagram caption). You, Leah Burke, are an encyclopedia of contradictions.
(Like how you won’t admit you’re in love with me! And yet you’ll email me love letters!)
Well, birthday girl, how’s this for a love letter: I’m head over heels for you, Leah. And if you ever want to try out one of those scary four-letter L words on me, I promise I’ll say it back.
xoxo,
Abby
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: SEP 20 AT 3:13 PM
SUBJECT: YOU WERE BORN!!!
HEY, LEAH, IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!!!! So here’s your birthday email, not to be confused with your birthday texts or the voicemail I left you at 9:20 a.m. or the one I’m definitely going to leave you at 9:20 p.m. (phone alarm is locked and loaded). Well, I hope you’re out on the town right now, living that charmed nineteen-year-old midafternoon life. God, it’s so weird not seeing you on your birthday. I want to hear about everything. How are your classes—how’s sociology? How’s everything with Abby? Did you talk to Nick? He said he was going to call you early, because Taylor wants to go to the symphony orchestra in Boston, which she apparently thinks is a Shawn Mendes concert or something, because she’s insisting they get there two hours early “just in case.” And Nick’s just like, “oh well, gotta keep the girlfriend happy.” Leah, my jaw dropped. GIRLFRIEND?? Did you know about this development? Because I sure the fuck didn’t. Our Nick, sealing the deal with Taylor freaking Metternich. What a JOURNEY.
Aaaaaand speaking of shitshows (sorry, I realize this email is like 90 percent gossip, but I keep forgetting to text you this golden information), have you heard anything about Garrett and Morgan? I can’t 100 percent confirm