Dearest Toni,
It is currently Wednesday afternoon while I write this. I hope it's ok that I'm writing this. There was a return address on the letter you sent me, and even though it was just the school, I hope by putting your name on it that it reaches you. If not, the stranger who is reading mail not addressed to them, what the fuck is wrong with you?
I hope Sheba is behaving. No, I hope you're behaving, and that you're not getting our goldfish entangled with your shenanigans. They are an innocent bystander to whatever childish play you're concocting over there. I hope I get my goldfish back in one piece. (And yes, I said mine. Because you gave them to me.)
My parents come home next Sunday, and I get back the next day. They'll be home in the evening, though, so if you could bring Sheba back on Sunday morning? If Molly isn't there, there's a spare key taped to the wind chime at the front door. Yes, the one with all the stars and planets circling the sun. My grandparents were new wave philosophers, or something. But I guess so were yours, Dog Star.
Wales is cold and miserable and I'm willing to bet that wherever you are it is not. This is very unfair.
I probably don't give this impression a lot, but I want to be wherever you are. Even if it were in Wales where it's cold and miserable. I'd follow you wherever you go.
That's probably not healthy, but I'm trying not to dwell on it.
Yes, I am aware my handwriting is very feminine despite my rough tone. Betty says she could probably use it as a Microsoft font. You're not allowed to agree. Archie thinks it's because I sound so formal I could be written into an Old English literature and no one would blink an eye. You can't agree on that either.
You've just defeated the terrible Phillips in the fortnight-long battle. I whine at you to be responsible but really he deserved much worse. I'm proud, TT.
I'm having too many thoughts and no thoughts at all currently, so I guess I'll conclude this letter. I had a spare afternoon and... well, I liked the letter you sent me. I may or may not keep it in my jean pocket. But I would never admit that. That would be sappy.
I lo Talk to you later, Toni. Or probably in five minutes. This is strange.
From Bombshell
*
Monday AM
(9:31) -Toni-
I got your letter.
(9:32) -Cheryl-
Oh dear, I'd forgotten about that.
(9:32) -Toni-
Sheba OUR GOLDFISH is doing fine, by the way. The boys are pretty taken with them.
(9:32) -Cheryl-
I'm glad the boys have finally made a nice friend.
(9:33) -Toni-
I am totally nice!
(9:33) -Toni-
Ok, small lie.
(9:33) -Cheryl-
Big white lie. How's your arm?
(9:34) -Toni-
No, no, we have to dissect your letter.
(9:34) -Cheryl-
No, come on, Toni!
(9:35) -Toni-
Did you honestly know that already or did you google my name?
(9:35) -Cheryl-
What?
(9:36) -Toni-
Dog Star.
(9:36) -Cheryl-
Oh! Lyon told me. She's really into astrology.
(9:37) -Toni-
And the handwriting...
(9:37) -Cheryl-
No, really, how is your forearm?
(9:38) -Toni-
I'm surprised you didn't dot your I's with hearts. You could definitely pass as one of those bitchy upper class Cheerleaders at Riverdale High
YOU ARE READING
There Is More To Love - Choni
Fanfiction(1:15) - Unknown Number- Hey, what's your name? (1:18)- Cheryl Blossom- Not happening. (1:18) - Unknown Number- Is that what your mother calls you? (1:19) -Cheryl Blossom- No, but at the same time she doesn't call me. Well, except deviant, a nightm...
