Page 4 of My XOXO Holidate

Steve speeds up a bit and we take in the old neighborhood.

“Remember your old crush, Amelia Abbott?”

My heart pounds at the memory of my secret crush. Back in the day, my brother knew I had a thing for her, but he never knew about the secret notes. I never confessed that to anyone.

“Yeah.” I keep my voice casual. I don’t need my brother busting my chops again, like he did in middle school. “You ever hear anything about what happened to her?”

“No. She graduated and went to college out of state. Wasn’t it South Carolina? I don’t remember.”

“Something like that,” I mutter.

After the pizza,beers, and our drive down memory lane, we sit on the patio at the home place.

“Have you ever looked up Amelia on social media or anything?”

I turn to my brother as I pop off the cap on my beer bottle. “No.” I take a pull of the refreshing ale. “But I do have a small confession about her.”

Why am I sharing this with my brother?

“Small confession.” My brother chuckles. “Oh, color me intrigued.”

“I used to write her notes.”

“What notes?”

I shrug and take a pull from my beer bottle. “Just secret admirer kinda notes.”

“She ever figure it out? You tell her?”

I shake my head and peel the corner of the bottle’s label.

“Why the hell not?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure she felt the same. Didn’t want her to break my tender heart.” I pat my chest.

“Oh, your poor, tender, young heart.”

I shrug. “Too late now. I’m sure she’s moved on.” I take another pull. “She’s probably married with kids.”

“Maybe.”

That night, as I lay in bed in my old room, I look around at the bright areas of paint on the walls where my posters once hung.

Could definitely use a coat or two of paint.

My brother and I will get to some of this work while I’m here. He’s done a lot of work already but wants my help with the sale.

I’ll make some phone calls, hire a reputable real estate agent, and get the house on the market as soon as possible. Even though I trust Candace to handle everything back in New York, I don’t want to be away for long.

Driving through the old neighborhood and past the school brought back a lot of memories tonight. One of those memories is that little beauty, Amelia Abbott. Before I even hit puberty, I had her on my radar. She was popular in our school and involved in a lot of activities. I won’t go as far as to say that she didn’t know I even existed, but I was sort of a nerd. I liked Business Club and I read a lot. I wasn’t into sports but excelled in academics.

I grin as I think back about all the notes I used to write to her. It might’ve been kind of cute back then, but by today’s standards, it’d most likely be considered stalking.

Not sure if she ever figured it out. If she did, she never said a word which isn’t surprising because she rarely talked to me. Our conversations were based only on algebra homework.

I started writing the notes in fifth grade. It was a Valentine and said how much I liked her, but I didn’t sign my name. I only signed it, “XOXO.” I watched her from across the room as she opened my card, read it, and looked around the room, most likely wondering who sent it.

Every year it was a Valentine’s card and in seventh grade, I started sending her other notes— about once a month. I told her how neat I thought it was that she volunteered at the animal shelter. I wrote about what I was doing, but my writings were generic enough not to reveal my identity. That’s kind of the way I am now— not wanting to reveal my identity.

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