Postmark Not Included

Chapter 12

I felt like never waking up.

My parents said it was okay for me to stay at home for one day, provided that I get all my homework done and go to school tomorrow. But the last thing I felt like doing was homework. My head was still so filled with thoughts of Cary, Leroy, and Piper that I had no idea where to begin and even less of an idea of where to end.

I spent the day moping in the living room, flicking through television channels involving daytime soap operas and cooking channels, all geared towards stay at home moms. Dissatisfied, I finally grabbed an old movie—Roman Holiday—made a large tub of super salty popcorn, and sat down to watch it. It was just a distraction, something to take my mind off of my own life.

When I was 13, I had an Audrey Hepburn phase where I bought loads of her movies—my favorite was How to Steal a Million—and even dressed like her for Halloween, from her Breakfast at Tiffany's costume.

Gregory Peck was gorgeous, and Audrey was adorable, and Roman Holiday reminded me of my life—Audrey being whirled away on an adventure with a dashing male lead until she remembers her responsibilities and has to return—but the difference was that Audrey was so calm and composed at the end of the movie, and I wasn't.

I wasn't expecting anyone, which was why when the doorbell rang at 11:03, I jumped. In a spectacular save, I shoved the popcorn back on the couch, but I fell to the ground in the process.

Standing up, I brushed myself off and appraised my look—a pajama t-shirt reading "home is where the cat is" that Susanne gave me as a joke last Christmas and a pair of hot pink pajama pants that were my go-to comfort pajamas.

The doorbell rang again, a quick, hesitant ring, of a person who seemed like they weren't really supposed to be at the door but were anyway. I trudged towards the door, wondering if it was a new postman.

Peeking through the peephole, I saw a head of blonde hair followed by anxious green eyes.

It was him. Leroy was standing there, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, as he stood on the doorstep.

"What do you want?" I said, my voice louder than usual. It also came out a bit higher than normal. "Leroy?"

"Mattie!" Leroy's voice rushed out, a bit muffled by the door. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine." My voice was flat.

"Can I come in?" he asked, still playing with the hem of his jacket.

"What do you want?" My tone was suspicious.

"I...I just—can we please talk about this?" His voice rose.

"No," I replied breathlessly, my tone impossibly cool. Leroy winced. Sighing, I stepped away from the peep hole, choosing instead to glare at the door.

"I, um, have your jacket."

"What jacket?"

"Um, the one I gave you," Leroy babbled.

"It's yours," I pointed out, a sense of déjà vu practically overwhelming me.

"But I—"

"Leroy," I interrupted him. "I can't do this. Please go away."

"T-The jacket..." Leroy's voice was shaky. "I guess I'll leave it here, then."

"Just go," I commanded, my throat choking up. All the emotions from yesterday were reappearing. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, I couldn't breathe, my lungs struggled for air, and I felt like I was ice melting into a puddle.

It was only after I heard a choked out, whispered good-bye; it was only after I heard his retreating footsteps; it was only after I heard a car engine rev; it was only after all of that, that I left myself cry.