Page 40 of One Night

"Britt, I'm sorry I can't be there at Thanksgiving, but I promise I'll be there at Christmas."

"You better, or I'm coming to Chicago. I'll call you later." She hangs up.

I'm dreading Christmas. I dread it every year. Winter break lasts three weeks and I can barely stand being at home that long. I don't know how Britt survives living there. My parents are worse now than they were when I was still living at home. I've talked to my mom about this and told her she needs to stop fighting with Dad, especially in front of Britt, but my parents can't help themselves. Whenever they're around each other, they fight.

The sad thing is, they used to be the perfect couple. They fell in love in college, got married after they graduated, and got along great. But then, when I was in junior high, they started growing apart, avoiding each other, sleeping in separate rooms. I don't know what happened, but their marriage fell apart and just keeps getting worse.

This is why I don't believe things like soulmates and destiny exist in real life. I want to believe in that stuff, and I used to, until my parents turned against each other. I used to look up to them, wanting a relationship just like theirs someday. But their happy, blissful state didn't last and now they hate each other.

Will that happen to Dylan and me? Or whoever I end up with? And if so, then why am I pursuing this thing with Dylan?

Picking up my pen again, I look down at his name on the paper and remember the night we shared. The way he looked at me, the gentle way he touched me, the way he held me protectively in his arms. There was something there. Something between us that is too real to ignore.

And that's my answer. That's why I'm doing this. I want to feel that way again, even if it's just for a short while. When it ends, it'll just prove my point that those feelings don't last. And then, years later, my realistic side will win out, quieting my dreamy romantic side, and I'll marry someone like Matt, a nice guy I feel no sparks for. Because if it's not that great to begin with, then it won't be as big a loss when our relationship crumbles apart like my parents' did. It seems like a sensible approach, and yet it's also really sad. But that's life. It doesn't play out like the movies, with true loves and soulmates and happily ever afters.

Holding my pen over the paper, I feel my romantic side taking over again. I remember what it felt like to be with Dylan and feel hopeful, like maybe I'm not doomed to turn out like my parents. It scares me to pursue a relationship with someone I feel so strongly for, fearing it won't end well, but it also makes me believe in love again. And I like that feeling. I crave it.

I return to my letter, deciding to go the facts route rather than the more personal route.

Dear Dylan,

Since you don't know much about me, here are some of the basics. I'm a marketing major at Katswick College with a minor in communications. I should be a junior, but credit-wise I'm almost a senior because I take classes every summer instead of going home to Michigan. I used to be a gymnast, like Kira, but I quit when I was in high school. I'm in a million clubs and activities. I have a really hard time relaxing. I guess I'm just wired that way. Even when I'm home, I'm always doing something. Cleaning. Organizing. Making lists. It's another crazy thing you should know about me.

This letter is boring. I don't want to bore him but facts are boring. Maybe I'll add something more personal.

I'm really happy you wrote back. Like extremely happy. In fact, Kira said she'd never seen me smile that much in all the years she's known me.

Damn. That's giving too much away. I don't want to scare him off, telling him how much I like him. But I can't erase the ink and I don't want to start over. And maybe he'll like that I was that honest, that vulnerable. I owe him that level of honesty after leaving him hanging all those months.

As for seeing each other, I think we should wait. I'd like to keep writing letters, at least for a while.

I look forward to your next letter.

Love,

Amber

Okay, that was a really bad letter, but I'll make sure the next one is better. I seal it up in an envelope and run back out to the living room. Kira is on the couch eating cereal and watching TV.

"Is Austin coming over?" I ask.

"Yeah, in like an hour."

"Can you have him give this to Dylan?" I hand her the letter. "Vandyl plays tonight, right?"

"Yeah. I'm going to hear them play. Why don't you come with me?"

"I can't. I have to keep my distance from Dylan."

"Amber, come on." She sets her cereal bowl on the coffee table. "This is stupid. I mean, I think the letter thing is sweet and romantic and all that, but you've wanted to be with Dylan since last May so just go be with him. You can still write letters but—"

"No. It has to be this way. Just give him the letter, okay?"

"Okay, but I think you should just go deliver it in person."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. I have to go meet Liza for coffee, then I have to go to work. I probably won't see you until tomorrow."

"I'm staying with Austin tonight so I probably won't get back here until tomorrow afternoon."

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