Letters to the boy I've only Loved.

10

DINNER WAS GOING AMAZING. The fact that Peter was actually okay with the whole Kenny thing made me feel less guilty.
Of course is not like I liked the guy, it was an old crush, that was crushed when Peter became mine. Ancient history.

🌸🌸🌸

AFTER DINNER PETER AND I went over to his home, I haven't seen his mother or Owen in a while. It would be nice to talk to them for a while. Unless that was the least of Peter's concern.
"Okay, Covey. I brought you here cause I got something to show ya."
"Yeah?" I say nervously, I'm not sure what things Kavinsky can pull out of his sleeves. Especially after not seeing each other for four months.

He starts to rummage around his room, over his shelves to be exact. He's humming to a familiar tune. One that I might know the lyrics too if I wasn't so distracted by the fact that I'm in my boyfriend's room as he scavenge hunt for something. He looks at me over his shoulder with a bright toothy smile. I felt the warmth rise to my face, and I bed I must be as read as an apple.

"Here we go." He holds a large book. The cover reads, Once upon a day. I have never seen that or even heard of it.
"What's that? Is it a mystery novel by Stephen King?"
He laughed, "Wow, real productive your imagination is Covey. This is an album of pictures. With stories of our childhood. I was looking for it for a while now."

I look again at the binding. How can this be something that mattered in our childhood if I've never seen it.

"Open it." He tells me as he sets it down on his bed. I do as I'm told; but I'm feeling a bit scared. Scratch that, the actual feeling is horrified. This could contain some of the most embarrassing moments in my life—God knows I have many of those—and I wasn't all about being on a trip down Memory Lane.

The first page is yellowed with nice hand script, The records of the past, can carry you over to the future.

I look at Peter, his eagerness rubbing on me. "Your mom wrote that." He says, "Back when we had the tree house. This is where all the memories (Besides the time machine and seeing the house there every day, before it got turned into a gazebo.) are. Many of the ones we did together.
"I think this was meant to be Lara Jean. You know; you and I. Like destiny." He's smiling so brightly, all his face is glowing with glee. "And maybe we didn't noticed cause we had something in our way."
"Gen." I say. "Yeah, I bet she's here a lot."
"Most definitely. But most of it are things I've gathered through the years, and things that are recent; such as your letters."

"You kept them?"
"Of course babe."

I stand there gazing upon the book, unable to say anything else. I turn the page and there's a picture of a younger version of Peter, sitting next to a younger version of Lara Jean. And My mom is smiling between us. I don't remember this picture ever happening. But I remember the moment.

It was mom's baby shower for Kitty. She was pregnant, and all the neighborhood came together to celebrate her pregnancy. All of us were there, Genevieve, Chris, John, Peter, and I. Even Josh was there. We were all playing. And it was a happy time. Mom wasn't sick, Dad was always smiling. No damage was done. Our family wasn't broken. The Song-Covey were very happy.

"Lara Jean," Peter snaps me from my mind movie. He leans closer and cleans off my tears. "Is okay." He says. I wonder if he knew what I was thinking. He probably did.
"Do you mind If I take this home with me?" Is all I say, my voice a little croaky.
"I don't mind, is a gift for you. Is our memories, is our history." He kisses my brow, soft and gently.
"Thanks Peter." I kiss him, and hug him tight, because I don't think I would've ever seen this without him.

🌸🌸🌸

I SAT ON MY BED WITH MY legs up, hugging them to my chest. The album laid in front of me, staring back at me. This contained things I wanted to burry down forever. But it also contained threads from the past I'd love to recover from the forgotten bin on my brain.
My mom was one of them. I barely remember her nowadays. Her image is slowly getting grayer, and fading into transparency. I never wanted that to happen to mom.
Was I the only one with this concern? Gogo was in Scotland with Rabi, Kitty was out with Daddy and Mrs.R. And I was here, by myself with a book which contained pieces of Mom.

I couldn't help but open the book again, seeing her nicely hand print. This was a piece of her. Then her picture stared back at me. With her long black-blue hair, and her beautiful almond shaped eyes. Her smile larger than any other I've seen. Her soft pink cheeks and her freckles made of stars.

I turned the other page.
A picture of Peter without a tooth and cake all over his face.
Peter Kavinsky
7 years old
"I love cake."
I laughed at how adorable he looked. His face hasn't changed much; he was still the good looking guy I met at school years ago. Here he was, the image of how I first saw him.

I found a picture of me on the next one. I had a braid crown with flowers in it. My eyes widened and my mouth forming an 'o'.
Lara Jean Song-Covey
7 years old
"Flower princess."
I really thought that I was a princess back then. One that traveled in dragons and slayed trolls. One who would sacrifice anything for freedom, and not needing a man to come to her rescue. But I guess things changed within the years.
I became Isolated, waiting for someone to rescue me. When mom was around, I was invincible. Afterwards I was invisible. My guard down, and games were no longer for me; I had to help around to raise Kitty. Play time was over.

My phone chimed, I closed the book and stood from bed. I walked to the desk where I had left it charging.

Hey Lara Jean, is Kenny. Want to go out?

Now, what can I do?