Priceless

3rd Letter

Hello.

I smile at the email I opened today in the morning. I had my phone fixed yesterday and the first thing that popped up was this email.

Now my mind wonders about this secret person. I quickly send in an email to see if they're on the other side.

Hello. How are you doing today?

I lean back in my seat in the library and wait for a response. My mind playfully starts to create a character from this person. Maybe it's a guy. He's probably well read since he responded that way. Only people that are down-to-earth and straightforward respond like that. Maybe he's one of those people that just nod at you when you pass by them.

Or maybe it's a girl...

I lean towards my laptop when I see a notification appear. I click on it and see that they've responded.

I'm doing alright. How about you?

A quiet scoff escapes my lips. It's weird. I never thought I'd be having so much fun with this. It almost feels like I'm a child as I respond back.

I'm also fine. What are you up to?

Moments later, I chuckle when I see a response. I click on it and frown.

Nothing.

This has to be a guy. I check the time and see that I have thirty minutes left until my next class. So I quickly try to make a good conversation out of this dude.

So what do you think about this assignment?

Seconds later: I think it's stupid.

Stupid. Woah. This could be either a guy that hates school or a girl. I chuckle at this and type down: I guess it is pretty different than what I imagined Communications to be.

I wouldn't be doing this at all, but I can't fail this class again.

Again? Now that's interesting. This could be one of those shy people.

I hope you don't fail this time. Why do you hate it so much? We can just ask each other questions and get it over with.

This time, I find myself waiting for a few long moments. My finger taps my chin as I wait for a notification to pop up. I finally click at the very first sound of it and see: Well, for one, I hate emails.

What? I laugh at this and furrow my brows with confusion. Am I talking with an eighty-year-old?

Then what do you prefer?

This is literally the only way I could not sound rude with this comment. I suppose they're right. You can confuse the meaning of the sentence through an email or text.

But when I read the next email, I'm left even more in the dark by this person.

Letters.

What the heck? I quietly laugh at this. I think I may have gotten one of Mrs. Lawrence's old friend's email by mistake. But I go along with it. If it is a mistake, then it'll be really funny at the end of the semester when I give a presentation on this person.

This time, I let in a small tease as I type: Do you like sixties music, too?

Yes.

I can't believe this. Then if you want, we can write letters instead.

This time, two minutes pass and it almost feels like this person is having a dilemma on whether to continue the assignment the way they like it. But may I remind you, you have failed this class already.

Soon enough, just before I start to pack up, I click on the notification and see: Okay. Let's do it.

I look at the time and see that I'm two minutes late for my next class. So I quickly type: Okay. Send me your address and we'll start from there.

I don't look for more as I put my laptop away and run to my next class. As I get to my communications class, a girl with wavy brown hair also seems to run up to the door. I hold it open for her and she gives me a pretty smile. "Thank you."

With a nod, I enter behind her and sit on the first empty chair in the large lecture room. I can hear that she sits behind me, but my mind slowly drifts away from her and back to class. I don't even know why she teaches anything if we just have that assignment to do.

Once class is over, I slowly go over to where my professor is and wait for people to get farther away. Mrs. Lawrence smiles at me; making her brown eyes shine. "Hello. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon, professor. I have a weird question about the assignment."

"Hit me," she playfully says.

I look around to make sure people aren't around to hear and say, "So...my pen pal...they don't want to talk through email."

"You know the rules. No talking in person. Just through email."

"But they prefer to talk through...letters." I raise my eyebrows at her and she, too, seems surprised.

But then she does an impressed look and nods. "I like that idea. Why didn't I think of that? You kids get so offended when I try to put in some of the aspects of the Golden Ages—"

"I don't mind. Really," I quickly say. "I just wanted to make sure it doesn't affect my or that person's grade."

"No! It's fine. It'll be interesting for the both of us!"

I scoff and smile. "Thanks, Mrs. Lawrence. At first, I thought that you may have given me one of your friends' contact by accident!" I start to laugh but quickly stop when I see her frown. "Never mind! Ha! See you later!" Before she could say anything, I run out.

As I make my way to the library, I check my phone and see that they've sent me their address. So the first thing I take out when I find a nice spot in the library is a pen and lined paper.

I let out a breath as my wrist lingers on the piece of paper. That's odd. It seems like I've run out of things to say to this person. Maybe I should start with something simple.

What's your name?