it's monday, i rushed to my locker and searched for a new letter. i was met with the letter i wrote yesterday. stranger usually gets the letters i write to her. it really was her last time writing to me? what did i do? did she actually get tired of me? did she realize i'm not as beautiful as she described me as?
the rose was still there too. i picked it up and the last petal fell.
i sighed and just reached out for my books when lizzie shouted my name from the other side of the hall.
"dad told me to come to his office. it's urgent, jo."
and so we did.
"babies, one of your schoolmates just passed yesterday," lizzie and i gasped and looked at each other.
"what? who is it, dad?" i asked.
"the name's penelope park. here's a picture of her. i want you both to set up a memorial here in school for her, okay? and buy some flowers."
no way. no way she's gone. this is not happening.
i looked at the picture and i immediately recognized her. she was the one who gave me the first letter. she was also the girl who always sits a row behind me in my chemistry class.
penelope park. i now remember her.
but it's too late.