I gently put my backpack beside me bed and fell instantly on the soft surface. My shoulders were sore and my eyelids heavy. School was exhausting today, the reports were mediocre, and two articles had to be done. I’ll just start everything after getting some Z’s, I thought.
As my gaze wandered around the room, it suddenly focused on an envelope on my empty desk. Ave. Balboa, Calle Juan de la Guardia, PH Sol Marina, 15B; para Emma. Addressed to me. Big surprise. I slit open the top of the envelope, and three pieces of paper dropped out. Astounded, I read line after line, truly surprised after I read the last line. XXOO, Ita.
It seemed like a long time since I last met her. Actually it has been a long time. I remember our young faces, causing mischief inside fancy restaurants. Locking up the bathroom doors, laughing like madmen when waiters climb on ladders to unlock the doors so that other customers could use them. I even caught a faint scent of us collecting bottles of perfume and cologne of Givenchy, and exchanging mischievous glances during recitals and concerts.
I flipped to the other pages, and Ita starts mentioning the things happening at her schools, mean girls cyberbullying others, meeting hot guys and celebrities like Brad Pitt, and parties she went to. The topic seemed like one we never had, one that didn’t involve action movies, guns, or basically anything we talked about before.
“Dad, would you let me go visit Spain this summer?” I asked absent-mindedly, propping myself on the walls in the living room. He looked at me with sympathy, clearly knowing that my best friend has sent me a letter. “I’ll think about it.”
As I look upon the blue sky, I secretly imagine snowflakes drifting down. Imagining the day that I would board on a plane, meeting my old friends, classmates, and teachers in Spain.
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