PROLOGUE
Jennie
THE FIRST LETTER I ever wrote was addressed to a boy in my first-grade class. His name was Song Yunhyeong, and even at six years old, my crush on him (and his light blue overalls) was overwhelming. My words were written in bright green crayon as a simple, "Do you like me? Circle yes or no."
That asshole circled no.
The second letter I wrote was to a girl in my library class. Her name was Irene Bae, and I desperately wanted to be her best friend. I wrote a full three lines telling her all the things we had in common—all the things that would make us the perfect set of friends. (Pink jelly sandals, a Barbie Dream House, and a collection of bright Beanie Babies.) My words were written on notebook paper, with a final question that read, "Will you please be my best friend? Circle yes or yes."
She didn't circle either one.
She created her own option: NO.
I made it through first and second grade with a broken heart and zero friends, so I kept the rest of my letters to myself.
Until I met the girl who lived on my brand-new street, the girl who became my first best friend.
For all of three seconds.
She was the worst person I'd ever met in my life, and the very moment she quoted some bullshit about "keeping [her] friends close and [her] enemies closer," all while throwing me off my bike and kicking me to the ground, I was convinced that the word "friend" would never be a part of my vocabulary. I thought I'd never find someone who loved letters as much as me.
That is, until she became the first person in my life to ever write me back.
Not just once.
Not just twice.
Always.
Even though we hated each other down to our marrow, and we could never get along for more than twenty minutes at a time, we always wrote back…