Page 34 of One Night

Let me start by saying I'm very sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, and I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you since. I wanted to, but I was afraid. Afraid that you'd be mad at me for leaving the way I did, but even more afraid that we could never replicate what we felt that night should we ever try to date.

I don't know if you remember me telling you this that night, but I never do things like that. I only did because I felt something for you. Something strong that I couldn't explain. And it was more than just physical. There was something else between us but I didn't trust that it was real. I still don't.

But I want to find out.

My eyes linger on those last words at the bottom of the page, my heart pounding with excitement, anticipation, a newfound energy that I haven't felt in months. Is she saying she wants to try this? Try being together? I flip the page and continue reading as fast as I can.

I know you're with someone else now and I don't want to harm that relationship. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry and that I still think about you, and always will.

I'm not asking for your forgiveness because I know I don't deserve it. I hurt you, and for that I am sorry. I completely understand if you never want to speak to me again. But if your current relationship doesn't work out, and if you think there's any chance you might want to see where this could go, then I want to try.

For months I've stayed away, not wanting to ruin the memory of that perfect night. But now I'm willing to risk it for a chance with you. A chance to make even more memories, ones just as good, if not better, than that night. I've never stopped thinking about you and the night we spent together.

But if we do this, I want to take it slow. I want the romance. The love story. The letters. You may think I'm crazy and maybe I am, but it's what I want. If we do this, I don't want to mess it up. And if it lasts, I want a story. A story we can tell for years to come.

I'm leaving it up to you, Dylan. If and when you're ready, write me back. Tell me how you feel. What you want. And I promise, this time, I won't leave you without answers.

I want this, Dylan. The question is...do you?

Love, Amber

My eyes shift from the letter to the floor as I think about what I just read. She wants this. She wants ME. After all these months, I was starting to think I was the only one who felt something that night. I thought I was the only one who wanted more. The only one who wanted to see what could happen if we let ourselves go there. And now I find out she feels the same way.

She wrote me a letter. Does that mean what I think it means? If so, I feel the same way. If I told anyone that, they'd say it's not possible to feel that way after just meeting someone, but I wouldn't expect people to understand. It's something you have to experience to believe.

Kira says something quietly in the background, then I hear Austin's voice but I'm not listening, my attention focused on the piece of paper in my hand.

"She said she'd write letters," I mutter to myself. "She said if she ever found him, she'd write him letters. She said it's romantic." I let out a laugh. "The girl is fucking crazy. And yet..."

I burst from my chair and run to my bedroom. I have to write her back. Right now. She has to know how I feel. She has to know I want this just as much as she does.

After searching my desk and every drawer in my room, I can't find any paper, at least not any decent paper. I need good paper. I remember Amber telling me that night how important the paper is, and the pen. She said the pen and paper can be almost as romantic as the words written.

The girl has her head in the clouds and yet I love that about her. I love that she's dreamy and romantic. I love that she has these ridiculous dating rules and that she's only applied them to me. I guess I can't say for sure if it's only me but I know she didn't do those things with Matt, the guy she used to date. I assume they broke up or she wouldn't have wrote me the letter. When I used to hear Kira talk about Amber and Matt, it sounded like they dated like any other couple. There were no letters. No old-fashioned romance. Was it because Amber didn't see a future with Matt? Does doing this mean she sees a future with me?

Racing back to the living room, I search the side table next to the couch. There's no paper, and the only pens are cheap ones that barely write. Next I go to the kitchen, searching every drawer, only to find scratch paper and more cheap pens.

I hurry back to living room. "We don't have any paper." I run my hand through my hair. "Shit."

"What do you need paper for?" Austin asks.

"For his letter," Kira answers. So she knows about the letters. I assumed she did, given that Amber is her best friend. "Can you use notebook paper?" Kira asks me. "I'm sure you have some of that."

"No." I shake my head. "It has to be real paper. Nice paper. Like old-fashioned paper."

"Old-fashioned paper?" Austin asks as I search the side table once more. "What the fuck you talking about?"

The doorbell rings and I stare at it, wondering if it's her. But she wouldn't just show up here. She wants me to make the next move.

The bell rings again and I hear Allison's voice, "Dylan, hurry your ass up. It's cold out here."

I race over to the door and fling it open. Allison's there, wearing a trench coat, which means she's in a hurry for sex. She always shows up in that coat when she wants a quickie. From past experience, I know that under the coat is a bra and panties, probably black, her favorite color.

As I stand here looking at her, I'm realizing how shitty this arrangement is. She doesn't give a damn about me and never has. I've called her, asked her out, tried to get to know her, but all she wants from me is sex. It's meaningless and emotionless and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of her and I'm tired of feeling shitty when I'm with her.

"Hey." I block the door so she can't come in. "Tonight's off. Actually, we're done."

"What?" she asks, a shocked look on her face.

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