𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘣

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𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦(𝗦);
❝𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥?❞

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word count; 541

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I took a deep breath and read over the neatly written letter again. My brain still couldn't process what was scrawled on the rather sad looking article of computer paper. It didn't help that it was covered in wrinkles upon wrinkles; like its been opened to read over and refolded too many times.

Hey.

I'm gonna try not to ramble here, but you looked pretty bummed out at the beach the other day. I know that's very unspecific, and there could be many reasons, but I think I've narrowed it down. While you were moping around, I also noticed he was chatting up that girl I know you hate. I don't remember her name, it's not important anyway. What I'm trying to get at, and it might be too soon, but I just wanted to know if you'd like to accompany me to dinner sometime? Oh my god, I sound like I'm from the 1840s. Just, would you let me take you out on a date? It doesn't have to be dinner, it doesn't even have to be soon, but I'd like to show you how you should be treated.

- John B

Forcing myself to swallow the lump in my throat I met my best friend's anxious gaze. He fidgeted with the buttons on his outrageous Hawaiian shirt and bit his nails nervously, "Well?"

I weakly nodded my head and forced a smile for his sake, "Yeah, yeah, she's gonna love it."

"You really think so?" He asked, taking the letter back from me and running his callused thumbs over the tattered and torn paper.

I clapped him on the back, pulling my shit together from the verge of falling apart, "I know so."

He grinned victoriously, and pecked me on the cheek, "Thanks y/n/n."

I managed a wave and a nod as he retreated to his beloved van, saying 'you're welcome' without actually having to say it.

"Wish me luck!" He called from the rolled-down driver's side window.

I bit my lip and didn't let any tears fall until the dust cloud he had left was almost dissolved.

John Booker Routledge. My best friend since the age of seven. Your practical dumbass who thrives on adrenaline rushes and stupid ideas. He's an idiot, yes, but he's also the only boy I've ever had a been in love with. I've liked him for as long as I can remember.

The chateau's old screen door creaked open and snapped shut in it's familiar way, pulling me out of my fixated trance. A familiar blonde made himself comfortable on the porch steps next to me. He didn't pry, and the only noise that interrupted the silence at first was his munching on Goldfish crackers. He offered me the open bag to stick my hand into, an offer I quickly accepted, and picked out the green ones, popping them in my mouth together.

JJ brushed off his hands and set the bag down next to his hip, "You wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I sighed, laying my head onto his shoulder that was sticky with sweat induced by the humid air, "He chose her." I said, "There's nothing more to it."

𝙈𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙆𝙄𝘿𝙎━━━ 𝘖𝘉𝘟!Where stories live. Discover now