Olivia

My room wasn't the biggest one but it was enough for me. There were books in every corner. Wherever you would see. I love reading and I have read every one of my books. A few more than twice. You know what fascinates me about books, you can read them as often as you want, you can turn the pages as often as you want, back or forth but the thing is, the story will never change. No matter how often you read it, there can only be new perspectives, new ways of thinking but the story is still the same. I wish my life would be like a book. I would like skipping a few parts in the beginning, only to find out if there would be a happy ending for me.

I was sitting on my bed, staring at something for like an hour now. Then my thoughts were interrupted. There was a noise. Like small stones thrown against a window. I turned around and went to my window. As I looked down I saw Wen but before I opened the window I wiped my tears away. He shouldn't see me crying.

"What are you doing here? It's 11 pm."

"I know. I got a call from two very worried best friends." So he knew. Thanks Mo, thanks Stella.

"Oh. Well... It's nothing."

"Then why have you been crying?" I sighed.

"Wait a second. I'm coming down." He nodded.

I closed the window and quickly – and as quietly as I could - walked down the stairs. Gram was almost asleep on the couch, the TV was still on and my kitten laid in her lap, I made sure she wouldn't notice me. I slowly closed the front door and stepped on the porch where he was waiting.

I really didn't know what to say. And to be honest, I didn't want to say anything. So I waited for him to say something.

"How are you feeling?" He asked worried.

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me." I sighed. Why did he always knew when something was wrong?

I crossed my arms in front of me and turned my head away so he couldn't see my face.

"Don't do that." I looked at him, confused.

"Do what?"

"You build up the walls around you again. You go distant. Don't do that. You know you can trust us. You can trust me." He paused after he said the last part softer. "Can I see it?"

"I haven't opened it yet."

"So you got it this morning and you still didn't open it? Why?" The last part he asked quietly. I swallowed.

"I'm scared." I confessed over a whisper. Wen stepped in front of me and laid his arms carefully around my body.

"There is no reason to be scared." He mumbled softly into my hair. I buried my head into his chest as I let all the emotions out that had made me suffer for the last few hours. Tears slowly rolled down my cheeks. "It will be fine." He whispered comforting words into my ear while he rubbed my back gently.

"I'm just not sure if I'm ready for this." I looked up. His sweet and caring eyes looked directly into mine. I couldn't do anything else than to stare at him. His freckles, his reddish hair, his eyes, his lips – how much I wanted to kiss those lips.

"Well, do you want to read it?" He asked carefully and I nodded. He was still holding me in his arms. It felt good, comfortable. Like I was meant to be there. Sounds selfish, I know.

Suddenly we heard a door and quickly stepped back. It was gram. Gladly, she didn't see us holding on to each other.

"Oh, Wen. Nice to see you. I thought, I heard something outside. Don't you want to come in?" She asked nicely.

"It's late, I don't want to disturb you any longer."

"That's no problem. Come in, Wendell." She opened the door so that we could get in.

"Are you sure that it's no problem? I don't want to interrupt your evening."

"Such a sweet guy, isn't he? Well, you two can go upstairs if you want. And call if you need anything. I'll be here, watching TV." With that said, she went back to the living room. Wen and I went upstairs into my room. I sat down on the edge of my bed as he made himself comfortable on my chair. I ran my fingers through my long, blond hair, then resting them in my lap and kept staring at the ground.

"Do you have it here?" He asked after a while. I nodded and pointed to my desk behind him. The letter was laying there all by himself. He was practically staring and screaming at me to open him. Wen took it into his hands and turned it around a few times before he gave it to me. But I just held it in my hands and stared at it, unsure. It's just a letter. I could feel his eyes laying on me, waiting for me to open it. It took me a while before I laid it next to me.

"I can't." Wen stood up immediately and knelled down in front of me. He slipped his hands around mine and suddenly I realized how close he was. Did he realize that too? He smiled weakly but I'm sure so that I only feel better. This was barely something to smile about. I couldn't open the letter my dad wrote me. And I was the one who wrote him back. And now I couldn't open it. All the letters he sent me I have collected in a small box that I hid under my bed. Every single one of them is still closed. I guess, I never felt the need to read them. After all he was kind of a stranger. I could barely remember his face. But this time it's an answer to my letter where I told him about myself. It's different. Somehow it's real. It feels real. Like he is my real dad for the first time in years.

"It's ok. You will open it when you are ready. Sooner or later it will happen. I'm sure of that. You love him, don't you?" I looked at him smiling. He was such a great friend. Friend – that's all.

"Thank you, Wen. It means a lot to me that you are here right now." I said and hugged him tight. Both of us stood up. One of my arms around his back, the other one laying around his neck. He swung his arms around me too and pulled me even closer, so all the space between us disappeared. There we stood for a long time, arms around each other, no one who really wants to pull back. After a few more seconds I looked up to him since he was quite bigger than me. Both of us smiled widely. Without knowing I leaned in and to my surprise, he did too. A second before our lips finally met, I closed my eyes, enjoying the softness of his lips. It didn't take long for us to pull apart. Still smiling like idiots, we stared at each other. Wen leans in again and shortly afterward his lips are on mine again. This time the kiss was more powerful but still sweet and soft. Oh gosh. Am I really kissing my bestfriend? Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I think I have a panic attack.