Chapter 15 THE INVITATION
Alex
The letter arrived on Wednesday afternoon.
Alex was in class when Sana texted.
Sana: Check your mailbox after class. Pink envelope.
His professor was talking about symbolism in contemporary poetry. Alex heard none of it. His leg bounced under the desk. His pen made ink stains on his notebook.
The second class ended, and he ran.
The mailroom was packed. Valentine’s Day was ten days away and everyone was checking for letters. Alex had to wait behind three other people, each one taking forever with their combinations.
Finally.
1-8-4-7.
The pink envelope sat on top of everything else. Heavier than the others. Thicker.
Alex’s hands shook as he pulled it out.
He didn’t make it to their bench. Opened it right there in the hallway, leaning against the wall while people pushed past.
Dear Someone Who Sees Me,
The campus is covered in Valentine’s decorations. Hearts everywhere. It’s overwhelming and perfect and terrifying all at once.
I have a question. A scary one.
Alex’s heart stopped.
The university is doing a Valentine’s reveal event on February 14th. Anonymous letter writers can choose to reveal themselves if they want. No pressure. Completely optional.
But I’d like to meet you. If you’re ready. If you want to.
The paper crinkled in Alex’s grip. He smoothed it out with shaking hands.
I want to meet you. I want to know what your voice sounds like. I want to see your face when you laugh. I want to close the distance between paper and reality.
But only if you want that too. Only if the idea doesn’t make you want to run.
It did make him want to run. It made him want to run so far he’d never have to face this.
But he kept reading.
There’s a rose arch in the quad where people are meeting. 2 PM on Valentine’s Day. I’ll be there. Wearing a grey jacket. Holding a copy of Neruda because it feels appropriate.
If you come, I’ll know it’s you. If you don’t, I’ll understand. I’ll keep writing for as long as you want to keep reading.
But I hope you come. God, I hope you come.
Alex’s vision blurred. He blinked hard.
Because whoever you are, wherever you are, I think I’m falling for you.
E
The words swam on the page. Alex slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. Students stepped around him. He didn’t care.
Elias wanted to meet him.
Elias was falling for him.
Elias would be standing at the rose arch in ten days, waiting.
Alex pulled out his phone with numb fingers.
Alex: He wants to meet me
Des: WHAT
Des: WHEN
Alex: Valentine’s Day. The reveal event. 2 PM.
Des: Are you going to go???
Was he? Could he?
Alex looked at the letter again. At Elias’s words. At the vulnerability wrapped in every line.
I think I’m falling for you.
His phone rang. Des.
“Talk to me,” Des said immediately.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I really can’t. Des, what if I show up and he’s disappointed? What if the person on paper is better than the person in real life?”
“What if he’s not disappointed? What if he’s been falling for you this whole time and doesn’t even know it yet?”
Alex pressed his forehead against his knees. The hallway smelled like floor wax and stress. “I have ten days to decide.”
“Ten days to work up the courage, you mean.”
“Same thing.”
Des was quiet for a moment. Then, softer: “Alex. You’ve been in love with this guy for months. You’ve written him letters that made him fall for you. Don’t you want to know what happens next?”
Yes. God, yes. But wanting and being brave enough were different things.
“I don’t know if I can,” Alex whispered.
“You can. I know you can. And I’ll be there with you if you want.”
“You will?”
“Obviously. Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out.”
Alex almost laughed. “I need to think about it.”
“Okay. But Alex? Don’t think too long. Don’t let fear win.”
They hung up. Alex sat there on the floor for another ten minutes, letter clutched in his hands.
Students walked past. Someone dropped their books. Someone else laughed. Normal sounds. Normal day.
But nothing felt normal.
Alex finally stood up. His legs felt shaky. He walked outside into the cold.
The quad was chaos. The rose arch was already set up, massive and covered in fake flowers. A stage nearby with a microphone. Tables where people could register to reveal themselves.
Ten days until he’d have to stand there and be seen.
He walked to their bench. Sat down even though the cold metal bit through his jeans.
Pulled out his phone and opened his notes. Started typing.
E,
I got your letter. Read it in the hallway outside the mailroom because I couldn’t wait to get somewhere private.
You asked me to meet you. You said you’re falling for me.
I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m terrified. Not of you. Of me. Of being disappointing. Of watching your face change when you realize the person who writes these letters is just some quiet kid who can barely look people in the eye.
His thumbs moved faster.
You want to know what my voice sounds like. It’s soft. Too soft. People always ask me to repeat myself. You want to know what I order at coffee shops. Usually just black coffee because ordering complicated drinks makes me anxious. You want to see my face when I laugh. I don’t laugh much. Not out loud anyway.
I’m not who you think I am, E. I’m not brave or interesting or worth this kind of attention. I’m just someone who’s been watching you from a distance and wishing I were brave enough to close it.
He stopped. Read what he’d written. It was too honest. Too raw. Too much like giving up.
He kept typing anyway.
But you said you hope I come. And that hope is doing something to me. Making me think maybe, maybe I could be brave for one afternoon. Maybe I could stand at that rose arch and wait for you to find me.
Maybe I could finally let you see me.
I have ten days to decide. Ten days to work up the courage or talk myself out of it.
I don’t know which one will win.
Alex saved the note. Didn’t send it yet. Couldn’t.
His phone buzzed. Sana.
Sana: Did you get it?
Alex: Yes
Sana: And?
Alex: He wants to meet
Sana: Are you going?
Alex: I don’t know
Sana: Want to talk about it?
Alex: Not yet
He put his phone away. Looked up at the rose arch. Red and pink and overwhelming.
In ten days, Elias would be standing there. Grey jacket. Neruda in hand. Waiting.
And Alex had to decide if he was brave enough to show up.
Or if he’d let fear win.