Page 132 of Honey Pot

I hope you still wear purple. It makes your eyes soft.

Cael.

“I don’t think you’ve worn purple in years,” Momma said softly.

“That’s because he likes it when I do…” I rubbed the paper between my hands. Every ounce of my new personality was still attached to him, just in spite of him, and I hated the realization.

Clem,

I have something that feels like a secret: I met a boy today. His name is Dean, and he reminded me of you. His eyes might be blue, but I see you when he looks at me. It’s hard to explain. He’s funny and smells nice. He laughs with his whole body like you do and I don’t know… when I’m around him, it’s not so hard to be alive. I hope that maybe you found someone like that, even just a friend. I’m sorry I stopped calling. It got hard to hear the answering machine every time. I just wished you’d answer.

I love you.

Cael.

“TheDean?” Bobbi mouthed.

I nodded. I couldn’t even believe he had even told me about that. But of course, he had. He was never one to keep secrets. My heart swelled knowing that the reason he’d grown so close to Dean was because he found the comforts of home with the first baseman.

“So Cael’s bisexual?” Momma asked.

“Uh yeah,” I confirmed, looking up from the table. “I met Dean. He’s well-rounded and really sweet. It seemed like he got Cael through a lot the last couple of years.”

“A heart made to love everyone,” Momma smiled. “I always knew that boy was made of gold.”

“This one smells pretty.” Bobbi held up a purple piece of paper and a piece of dried lavender fell to the table. “Oh my God, it’s the first one.” She held it out of my reach before I could snatch it. God only knows what he put in it from that night.

“Dear Plum, You asked for letters, and I won’t ever deny you.” Bobbi’s mouth fell open in shock. “Alright, if you don’t go back for him, I will.”

“He’s not your type,” I snapped at her and tried to take the letter again.

“I’ll make an exception,” Bobbi giggled and continued reading in a voice that was meant to mock his. “Here’s number one.We left early this morning before the sun came up, and all I could think about was your skin and how it felt to trace every inch of it beneath my fingertips. Maybe I’m still dreaming.”

“Please stop.” I covered my red cheeks with my hands.

“Woof. Rated N for naughty.” Bobbi winked over the paper.

“Clementine Matthews.” My name rolled from Momma’s mouth in astonishment.

I just prayed it didn’t get any worse because, knowing Bobbi, she’d read it regardless of its television rating.

“Maybe I’ll open my eyes, and you’ll still be tucked against me, wrapped in my arms where we belong. I miss you already so much it feels like someone has carved a hole in my chest where my heart used to be. If you wake up and find it still in Texas with you, keep it safe. I’ll mail this as soon as we reach Rhode Island. I love you, Clementine.”

“God, he’s even adorable in letters,” Bobbi scoffed. “I can’t get a girl to even flirt with me for more than five minutes, and he’s been doing it in ink like some Elizabethan-era male escort for seven years! I need you to be so for real with me right now.” She leaned over the table with a playful dip to her brows. “Why are you here?!”

“Because I’m an idiot,” I groaned and rested my forehead against the table.

We continued to open the letters as the pizza came, and tears flowed. Some of them were heartbreaking, and I ached to rewind time so I could be there for him.

Mama died yesterday. We were in the middle of rereading The Outsiders.

And dated a week later.

I wish you were here. But I’m really glad you aren’t.

The short letters were the worst of them. I could feel his agony through the pages, some of them stained and crumpled from previously being wet. I couldn’t imagine being alone like that.

“Poor Honeybug.” My Mom read one of the longer ones when I couldn’t get past the first sentence. “Mama collapsed yesterday. Dean and I found her. I don’t know how long she had been there but she doesn’t look good, and Dad isn’t answering his phone. I thought about calling your Momma, but I don’t even know what I should say.”

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