N.S.

A series of letters between Harper O'Neill and Nick Judge, and the events that progress afterward between them and their friends.  - Dear Harper, Hey there, how ya been? I'm—well, I'm not going to tell you who I am. That would defeat the purpose of this, wouldn't it? Hi. I'm NS. I know you may have a lot of questions, all being left unanswered, but I’m begging you; please read this. Please don't throw it out, or burn it, or give it to your dog to chew on. It would crush me. But, onward to the objective of this letter. Harper O'Neill, I love you. Nope, don't move, don't do that cute little confused look you make, don't do a thing. Just read. You don't know me, but I know you. Not to sound creepy or anything, but better than you know yourself. I've seen every girl you've gone through, and I just can't believe you even went for them. They didn't care about your needs (as you soon discovered, considering you are currently single). Harper I love you for who you are. I've gotten to know the boy below the curly hair and emerald eyes. At least, that's what I'd like to imagine. Who knows, maybe my idea of you is completely different than what you really are. I would like to give you that chance to discover if you really could reveal your true self to me. But if I reveal myself to you…well... I'm not exactly, what would you say, ideal for you? I'm probably nothing like who you think I am. I'm not sexually active and I don't wear dresses up to my ass. In fact, I don't wear dresses at all. Too foo foo pretty for me. Ew. What am I even doing. You're not reading these. I'm such a bloody git. Please just, I don't know. Just here, NS - Dear Harper, My first letter wasn't very great was it? All I was talking about were my feelings. Ew. I guess the important question is, when am I going to get a reply from you? I know I didn't exactly request it at first but I would like a reply. You could just drop them in that abandoned locker at the end of the senior hallway. I can't have you mailing them to me. That would ruin the secret identity thing. Don't worry though, I'll check every day. So, let me tell you a little about myself. I've known you for at least 12 years of my life. No, I'm not your best friend. You don't even know I exist. I just knew you from your bouncy curly hair. It used to be straight when I first noticed you. I think I was...eight. I wanted to be your friend, but you were always involved with that 'clique'. It didn't make sense to me at that age, but now it does. I'm lucky I stayed in my corner at recess. I wouldn't have fallen in love if I went to talk to you. I appreciate the little things I did to stay away from you. Until of course, now when I've fallen so hard I'm suffocating. Don't give up on me yet, NS