Jack answered the door. "Hi, Laurel, right?"
"Topanga. How's Shawn?"
"Um…he's moved on to Soundgarden."
"Is Eric here?"
"He's been filling me in about Shawn." Topanga noticed that Jack looked like he'd been crying.
"Do you mind if I come in?"
"You're sure you won't set him off?"
"If he gets upset, I'll leave."
"Go ahead."
Topanga went inside and knocked on the door from which Black Hole Sun was emanating.
"Eric?" Shawn's voice came from the other side.
"Topanga."
"Come in."
Shawn stuffed a notebook under his pillow and turned the tape player off as Topanga opened the door.
"Let me guess, Cory sent you."
Topanga nodded. "He said something about reading something you wrote and being a giant idiot."
"Huh, two for two."
"It wasn't a love letter was it?"
"No."
"Whew. What was it?"
Shawn sighed. "I guess since everybody else knows it's only fair that you do. It was a poem."
"A poem?"
"Yeah. I know it's dumb, but I write poems sometimes."
"It's not dumb. I bet it's really good."
"Eh, it doesn't scan. And it probably pissed off Mr. Matthews."
"How come?"
"Remember how I got religious for a while after Mr. Turner's accident."
"Yeah?"
"It didn't take."
"Yeah, I wasn't giving that much of an over under."
"Anyway, that's what the poem's about."
"Well, Cory told me to tell you he's profusely sorry."
"How's he taking it?"
"He's watching Lifetime movies in a bathrobe."
Shawn finally broke a smile. "God, Mr. Matthews must really hate me."
"You know he really does care about you."
"You think I should go over there?"
"I'd give yourself a couple of days for the burn to heal and Cory a couple more days to twist in the wind."
"I'll take your advice."
"Thanks, um…you want my advice about Jack?"
"Can't hurt."
"Ask him about the letters before your six weeks are up. It's not fair for you to hate him for rejecting you if you don't give him a chance."
"How'd you know about the letters?"
"Stacy."
"Forgot about that."
"Who's Stacy?" Jack appeared in the doorway, making Topanga jump.
"Does nobody wear shoes in their house anymore?" Shawn groused.
"No way, you track dirt in."
"Where did you come in to that conversation?"
"You're supposed to ask me about some letters."
"Jesus."
"Look, you might as well ask me now. You've piqued my curiosity."
"Piqued your curiosity?" Jack was starting to get used to Shawn's glare.
"Yeah, who's sending who letters?"
"I was sending you letters, asshole! For five fucking years because I wanted a brother and I was a stupid fucking child who couldn't take a fucking hint when you didn't answer!"
"I never got any letters," Jack whispered.
"What, you think dad wrote down the fucking address wrong!"
"I swear to God, if I had known you wanted to see me, I would have gotten on a bus and found you. But I didn't even know you existed until yesterday!"
"Yeah, right."
