Disclaimer: The BSC is Ann M. Martin's creation. This fic is just a pale imitation of some classic literature.
Dear Ben,
I'm here in my new apartment- all by myself! No 10 brothers and sisters, no weird jock roommate, no best friend (Jessi and I are exactly the same, except for the fact that she's black and I'm white) staying here for the summer. I have one big room, a bathroom, and even a kitchen- THREE WHOLE ROOMS TO MYSELF! Isn't that SO DIBBLE?
I'm also enclosing one of my chilly new business cards. We haven't talked in a while, so I figured I'd send you my phone number and my email address in one fell swoop. And don't forget to save the envelope- my address is on there, you silly-billy-goo-goo! Keep in touch!
Love always,
Mal
I glanced down at the business card before I enclosed it with my letter. Right there in print, it said what I've always known I am, in my heart of hearts: Mallory Pike, author. It had been such a long journey to this point. Most of the older girls from the Baby-Sitter's Club had never believed in my dream of being a professional writer. They thought I was just a silly eleven-year old...gosh, I thought I'd be eleven forever! And after my Mom and Dad had another set of triplets, I thought my dreams of college were dashed for good. I got through it though- I got a scholarship and even graduated early! (I'm a bookworm, so I studied really hard, took lost of extra classes, and graduated early. My hometown, Stoneybrook, produces lots of very intelligent people, including Janine, the older sister of my friend Claudia from the BSC.) I paused for a moment and tried to picture everyone's reactions. What would they say when they found out about my awesome new book deal? And then there was Ben...Ben Hobart! I know it sounds silly, in this age of email and text messaging, but I wanted Ben to find out first of all, and to find out in writing...my handwriting. Hand-written letters add so much to long-distance courtship. You get to see the person's handwriting, the paper they touched...a phone call or an email just isn't the same! I even sleep with Ben's letters under my pillow, just like the courageous pioneer heroine of my book Tessa Mouse's Long-Distance Courtship does. You see, authors have to write what they know, from life. But enough about my dibble new career...for now, anyway.
Ben Hobart has been my sort-of boyfriend for almost ten years now. We met when I was eleven. For seven years we hung out in the library, went to dances, and did practically everything together. After we got to college, it became much more difficult to sort-of see each other. I know that not every man wants to get married right away and have eleven children (yup, you read that right- eleven, including two sets of triplets) the way my father did, so I've always been patient with Ben. I just finished school last May, and he's not even graduating for a few more months, after all. I'm hopeful that when he gets my letter, he'll realize what a catch I am- I've got a whole series of books about Tessa and her mouse family planned, and the publisher seems very excited about it. And if Ben doesn't feel that way, I'll just "run into him" when I'm back in town for the second triplets' birthday next month. You see, I was always frumpy-looking as a kid, but since college, I've really grown into my looks. When Ben finally sees me, he'll be totally bowled over!
Of course, even though I'm well on my way to becoming a famous author, I haven't really made that much money from that career yet. (At least, not enough to cover the rent on my swanky new digs in New York City!) So after I sealed up the letter and affixed the proper postage (I really miss the stamps you had to lick...it was almost like sending Ben a kiss!) I checked myself in the mirror, put on my coat, and left for my day job...as, believe it or not, a model!