Every time you get a crush so intense and consuming, you write a letter to them. It was your way of releasing your feelings and keeping them in a safe and controlled environment. It was like a ritual, complete with personalized colors, notes, and even their addresses. Because what would a letter be if the address was missing?

You had five in total. Franco from grade 7, Ollie from homecoming, Pepe from Model UN, Paul from camp, and Jack, your childhood best friend-slash-boyfriend of your older sister, Margo.

You wrote letters for each and every one of them, some more than others, and kept them all in your teal hat box from your mother. The same teal hat box that your younger sister, Kitty, discovered after a particularly nasty argument.

That's how you found Franco beeline to you with heavy steps and a determined expression in the middle of your PE classes. "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

You stop in your tracks. Both physically and mentally. Franco would never have a reason to casually talk to you, not in a million years, not now when your social circles were so far apart. "Yeah," you nod hesitantly to your friend to continue running without you.

"listen, I'm flattered that you think I have golden flecks in my eyes and that the kiss is really important to you. It was hot, y'know, for a grade 7 spin the bottle game." Franco began, looking awkward, "but, this will never happen. Anna and I are in a weird place right now and I-"

And suddenly your world faded to black.