soda pop

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     "Mail's here," my father said as a small piece of paper was slipped under my door.

     "Oh, sweet!" I exlaimed, jumping off of my bed and grabbing the note off the floor. The familar feel of a soft envolope was in my hands. I knew who this was from. Ripping off the top of the envolope with my hands, I took immense satisfaction with the soft tearing noise emitting from the note. I took out the letter- very carefully, mind you, not to bend it- and started reading it aloud to myself, oblivious of who might overhear me. 

     Dearest Amiee,                                                                                                          8/17/1999

    How are you doing, mon petite fille? Today, it's been exactly a year since the last time I've seen you! That means only three more months until I can visit you again! I can hardly wait. I hope your summer has been worth-while. Rennes isn't the funnest city in France, as we had to move oh so much, and I'm still incredibly homesick. How's Newport? I miss it a lot. Remember our old hideout? And how grand et génial c'était? Oh, I wonder if it's still there. Alright, that's enough reminiscing. I'm writing this message at dusk and I'm incredibly tired. PS: I taped a flower to the back of this letter.

                                                                                   -Love you --Saph.  

     My hands gripped the edges of the paper as I read the words. I put the note down on the bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were filled with excitement as I thought about the beautiful note I've recieved. My short black hair bounced as I paced around, thinking about the perfect responce. Should I write a romantic letter? No? Or something about the past? Maybe things we could do once she's here? No, she's lived here before, and it's not like anything's changed. The perfect date? What? I couldn't think.

     I grabbed my pen and a piece of paper and sat down at my desk. My eyes kept wondering to the words on the letter and my heart fluttered. I can't believe she remembered that old hideout. Think, Think, Think... I thought. It's not hard to write letters to people usually, but this was someone special, and I'd really hate to say something wrong. The empty piece of paper sitting on my desk was staring at me, begging to write something down. 

     It's not important. Whatever you write will be fine. Sapphy would like anything you write to her, I thought. And, well, I was right. I confidently held my pen as the thoughts started flowing and the ink started smoothy across the paper. 

     My Dear Sapphy,                                                                                                                         8/31/99

     I've missed you a lot! I can't wait for you to come down either. Three months is wayyyyy too long of a wait. Once you get back, there are so many things we could do once you get down here, mon amour! Not much has changed, but there's a small soda pop shop opening up right down the street! I wanna go there with you. Apparently they're gonna sell high quality pop in tons of different flavors for pretty cheap. Have you ever tried cherry cream soda? I don't think you have. One day I'll check if our hideout's there, we had a lot of good memories. We could hide there and drink soda pop together. I think I'll wrap up this letter now. PS: It's such a cute flower, thank you.

                                                                                     -Love you too --Ami.

     I hummed as I wrote this letter. I was proud of it. I've got to get this to the postal station as soon as possible, I thought. I unlocked the door and walked downstairs. The stairs softly crunched beneath me as I strolled down.