Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Slade (age 16)
.
Campbell—
You’re in Paris this semester, and while I would never admit this to you in a million years, I kind of miss getting your letters. Even though it feels like a chore having to write you back because I feel like we’re too old to be pen pals and too young to not just text each other like everyone else in the world, but the days when I get home from school and find one of your letters waiting for me on my desk … it’s hard to describe … but I guess it feels good knowing someone took the time and energy to write and send me something, even if you’re only doing it because you have to.
Slade (age 17)
.
Campbell—
In your last letter, you compared me to a playground bully and suggested that maybe I did like you but I was just pretending not to. While I think it’d be easier if you were right, I can confirm that I’m not pretending to not like you. I don’t like you. But I don’t not like you either. Maybe that sounds harsh, but you should know that I don’t like most people. If you’re in neutral territory with me, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. And hey, maybe it’ll change one of these days. You never know. Besides, I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page. You’re not exactly fawning all over me, either.
Slade (age 18)
.
Campbell—
I’m sitting in my room, in the fraternity house you recently made fun of in your last letter, and I’m writing in a journal that no one knows I have because I keep it hidden. If any of my frat brothers found it, they’d have a field day. I tried journaling on my laptop in a Word document, but it just wasn’t the same. Sometimes I feel like there are two versions of me. The one I present to the world and then the real me. Do you ever feel that way? I can’t be the only one.
Slade (age 19)
.
Campbell—
I can’t stop thinking about you making out with that lumberjack guy. I don’t know why, but it bothers me. Maybe it shouldn’t. But sometimes I’ll be sitting in class and I’ll just think of this meathead in flannel putting his hands all over you and then I think about how you’d rather be with him than me. I have no right to be jealous and yet I am. There’s a part of me that—despite my best intentions—is growing attached to you.
Make it make sense.
Oh, and if we’re being brutally honest, I hooked up with a girl at a party last weekend solely because she looked like you.
Slade (age 20)
.
Campbell—
I don’t care what you say, you were totally trying to make me jealous by bringing up that Instagram guy hitting on you. And I know I said he was ugly, but we both know he’s not. Once again, I’m losing my mind. I wish I could go back to the days when I couldn’t care less about what you were doing.
On an unrelated note, I had to cancel my spring break trip this year. Mom is sick again. Everyone thinks I’m going to Punta Cana, but I’m going home to be by her side. The doctors say this could be it. But they’ve said that a dozen times before and she always comes out of it. Either way, I don’t want to be lying hungover on some beach when I get the worst call of my life.
I hope you’re going somewhere fun for spring break.
And I hope all those horny drunk college guys keep their damn hands off you. I wish I could remind you that you’re not some piece of meat and you deserve better than to be some asshat’s one-night stand.
Slade (age 21)
.
Campbell—
You asked what we’re going to be doing ten years from now. I told you I try not to think about it if I can help it, but I was lying. I think about it a lot actually. More and more. A decade from now, we’ll be in our early thirties. We’ll probably have a kid or two. And we’ll be either really happy or really fucking miserable. It’s anyone’s guess.
Uncle Oliver thought he knocked up his last girlfriend, but it ended up being a false alarm. But the way he was acting, you’d have thought his life was over.
You seem like you’d be a good mom. Patient and kind and funny and all of that.
I have no idea what kind of dad I’ll be. My old man isn’t exactly Danny Tanner from Full House. He’s more like Palm Beach’s version of Tony Soprano. He takes no shit from anyone and has his own way of showing love.
Slade (age 22)
.
Campbell—
I haven’t written you in a while because … I’ll be completely honest with you since you’ll never see this … but I started seeing someone. It wasn’t serious. And obviously it was never going to go anywhere because of our stupid marriage arrangement. I guess I just needed to rebel, to feel like I could stretch my wings if I wanted to. Her name was Tiffany and we went on five dates. She also looked like you (I know, WTF is my problem?). At first it was fun, but the more time I spent with her, the more I realized she was dull and vapid. She didn’t push my buttons the way you do. She did nothing to make herself a challenge or hold my interest. She threw herself at me. What self-respecting woman throws herself at a man? You would never do that.