Page 36 of One Night

She pouts. "Come on. You can tell me. We're friends. I wouldn't tell anyone."

We're not friends. And Macy loves to spread gossip. That was one of the reasons I broke up with her.

"Sorry, but there's nothing to tell. I didn't write it based on anyone I know." I get my phone out and check the time. "Macy, I can't really talk right now. I'm in a hurry."

"Where you going? To a party?"

"No, I just have stuff to do. Homework."

I should've gone with the party lie. It's more believable than homework. Anyone who knows me knows I don't do homework on Friday nights.

She turns toward the shelf. "So what are you looking for? Printer paper?"

I was really hoping she would leave, but given that she works here, maybe she could help.

"I was trying to find a different kind of paper," I tell her. "Like the kind you'd write a letter on? You know what I'm talking about?"

"A letter?" She scrunches up her face. "Who writes letters?"

"My grandmother," I say, adding a smile to better sell my story. "She writes me letters and I told her I'd write back but I didn't have the right kind of paper."

"Aww." She tilts her head. "That's so sweet you write to your grandmother. See? This is why I liked you so much, Dylan. It's too bad things didn't work out for us." She goes to touch my arm but I take a step back before she can.

"So anyway, do you guys sell that kind of paper?"

She straightens up. "No, but we have cards. Why don't you get her a card?"

"Because a card's not a letter. It needs to be a letter."

"You can write in a card. Just get one of those cards that are blank inside."

"You sure that's all you have? You don't have any paper in the back room or anything?"

"No. What's out is out. Follow me." She walks off. "I'll show you the cards."

I guess a card will have to do. Or maybe I should wait until tomorrow when more stores are open.

Macy stops at the card section. "You should get her one with flowers. Grandmas like flowers." She picks out a card and hands it to me. "How about this one?"

It has pink roses on it and would be fine for a grandma but not for Amber. She needs something more modern and artistic. She may be old-fashioned when it comes to romance but she's modern when it comes to other things, like her hair and clothes. She seems to have good style, at least based on what little time I spent with her.

I hand Macy the card back. "I don't think she'd like that one. I'll keep looking."

She puts the card back and starts scanning the other ones.

"Macy, you don't need to help me. I'm good."

"I don't mind. I don't have anything else to do. It's really slow this time of night."

"I'd really just kind of like to look by myself, if that's okay."

"Oh." She seems hurt. "Okay."

That's another reason why I broke up with her. She always took everything the wrong way, assuming I was rejecting her if I didn't go along with everything she said.

She finally leaves and I search the card rack and find one that looks like a watercolor print with bright swirling colors. It's not great but it'll have to do. I forgot to get a pen so I return to the office supply area but all the pens are crappy ones like I have at home. I find a thin black marker and buy that instead.

Back at the house, I sit at the kitchen table and try to figure out what to write. It's almost one in the morning and I should be tired from a week of classes in which I had two tests and a paper due, but right now I feel wide awake, on a high from the thought of seeing Amber again. I wonder when I'll see her. I know she wants to take it slow but we can't just write letters forever.

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