Page 17 of When Hearts Remember

Oh, please. His challenge wasn’t even a challenge. It took me less than five minutes to figure it out.

I snicker as I think about the tiny lollipop I tucked between the pages as a middle finger back to him.

To Keep(er) Being an Idiot,

I think I know why you’re feeling lost, even with your fancy degrees, because what kind of idiot leaves a big leather journal in the children’s section? Are you trying to get caught? Is this your attempt to ditch me as a pen pal?

Where the Wild Things Areby Maurice Sendak. You even used a word in the title as your clue. You can do better, Keeper. Is there a meaning behind your book choice? A boy who feels unseen and frustrated goes on an imaginary adventure only to figure out he has what he wants all along and returns home?

And guess what, being the idiot you are, you’ve left more clues about yourself. Carlisle’s steak? You’ve had steak in one of the world’s best Michelin-rated steakhouses inside The Orchid? I’m wondering about this “family business” of yours. But then you had to throw me off by saying you like beer. I would’ve expected fancy whiskey or something if you like Carlisle’s.

Not that I’d know. I had whiskey and thought it tasted awful. I’d rather have my iced tea. But Charles loves Carlisle’s. One time, he brought a steak home for me after he met his friends at The Orchid. The meat was to die for even though it was takeout.

Maybe this is your game. Confusion.

But I agree with your tastes. Bone-in rib eye is the best cut. Tender with the right amount of fat. Yum. And don’t yuck my gorgonzola yum.

As for the “strange” questions—I read a psychology study earlier—part of my quest to figure out what I wanted to major in because examining people’s minds sounded interesting. Have you heard of Dr. Arthur Aron and his thirty-six questions that’d supposedly lead to love?

Before you freak out, I’m not looking to fall in love with you and I don’t want you to fall for me, even though I know the temptation is very real. Heck, in full transparency, I’m seeing someone, even though that relationship will probably end before I can say Happy Valentine’s Day. Are you in a relationship?

Anyway, I thought as pen pals, there’s some distance to this whole thing, so it’ll be nice to get to know you while respecting the rules and what better questions to ask than ones a psychologist came up with? It’s also nice to have someone to talk to about the deep stuff. If I tried talking about this with my friends, they’d probably think I’d grown two heads.

My ideal day is strangely similar to yours. I want to have a picnic in the courtyard here at the library. If you look out the hummingbird window, you’ll see it far below. The stone archways, cobblestone floors, and the vines along the walls remind me of my favorite book,The Secret Garden. I’ve been saving this day for when I’m certain about my future. Maybe when I work full time? I think I’ve built it up in my head so much, I don’t want to do it now when I’m not in the best mental state and ruin the experience. Anticipation is part of the pleasure. So, I guess this is a future goal.

As for death, I’m really terrified, to be honest. What if there’s nothing afterward? What if I have a bajillion regrets? What if I leave the world and people just…forget me? I guess this is why I have my motto—don’t wait to live, because the clock keeps ticking. You never know when you’ll meet your maker, and I want to make sure I’m leaving an impression.

Can I tell you a secret? I can’t swim. At all. I’m sure you think it’s ridiculous, but I have this nightmare of me drowning because I can’t swim. And this fear keeps me from learning how to swim. It’s a stupid cycle. I really should add this to my list of goals—to get over my fear. Can you swim?

The worst part of my week: Getting into a fight with the guy I’m seeing. He’s been acting weird these days. Do you believe in love? That you’ll recognize it when you see it?

The best part of my week: Doing well in ballet practice.

You?

Please try harder with your riddles,

Dream(er)-ing of Kicking Your Ass Again

P.S. Bonus question: What if an asteroid hits the earth? What would you do?

P.P.S. Clue in the old position, clue here as well:

What’s fluent in gifts and touches sweet,

In acts and words, or time we keep?

It’s the secret code to the beating heart,

But five is really my love’s desire.

I grin as I stare at my little poem. Took me ages to come up with it but I’m proud of it.

Hold on, what if he doesn’t get it? Did I just end our friendship?

Dammit.

The smile slips off my face just as I feel a poke in my back.

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