"You were right, Jo. That day was a good idea," Camille said, relaxing back in her chair at the beach cafe.

"Yes, we were so focused on work that we almost forgot to enjoy our summer vacation," Jo said with a soft smile, both girls laughed.

"You know," Jo began after a short silence while she drank her coffee, "I've actually been wanting to ask you how your online dating is going."

Camille rolled her eyes and took another bite from her fruit platter. "I deleted my profile."

"Because you found someone . . .?" Jo asked with interested. Camille shook her head. "No, because . . . don't you think it's just a waste of time anyway?"

"What exactly do you mean?"

"We waste so much time trying to find the right guy, and when there is someone, he always turns out to be just like everyone else. I think I'm getting tired of these stereotypes."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Wait a minute, aren't you the one who always says everyone is unique in their own way?"

Camille sighed. "Yes, I know. But lately I've been questioning everything. I have no idea what's going on with me."

"I think you're just frustrated because you haven't found the right one yet. Okay, so maybe the online dating thing wasn't such a good idea. And I freely admit that the boys in our school are all jerks. But what about our work in the hospital? There are so many people there, are you sure there is nobody for you?"

Camille was silent for a long time, then she said softly, "Maybe you're right. Maybe there really is someone. But the situation is anything but easy."

"Really?" Jo asked excitedly. "Who is it?"

"I think you already know that, don't you?"

Jo considered whether she should continue to act ignorant, but then she decided to be honest. She nodded. "Okay, yeah. You've actually been acting a bit odd since we met Logan."

Camille was silent.

"So, is it true? You like him?"

Camille hesitated for a moment. She knew if she admitted it now, there would be no turning back. But did she really want to go back? She took a deep breath. "Yes, I like him. Even more, he fascinates me. He's . . . he's so different . . . but I don't know if a relationship would be the right thing to do."

"Why not?"

"You met him, Jo. He . . . I'm afraid to ask him because I'm afraid he'll turn me down. Not because he might not like me, but . . . but because he probably doesn't want to be a burden to anyone. He wouldn't want me to worry about him."

Jo bit her lower lip, then she said hesitantly, "And what if he feels the same way but is also afraid of asking because he might think you're just bored with him and therefore wouldn't give him a chance?"

"Well, then . . ." Camille began, but then stopped. She frowned at Jo. "That's pretty specific. Did Logan talk to you?"

Jo shook her head. "No, not . . . not Logan, no."

"Jo, you know I love you to the moon and back, but let's face facts. You are a terrible liar."

Jo sighed. "Yes, you are right."

"So, is it true? Logan actually spoke to you?"

"No, it wasn't Logan. It was Kendall."

"Wait, Jen's son? Logan's friend?"

"Yes."

"I . . . I don't understand."

"Okay, I'll explain it to you."

After Jo finished, Camile was silent for a long time. Eventually she asked, "So Logan is actually afraid I might dump him because we're so different?"

"It is as you already suspected. He doesn't want to be a burden, so he looks for reasons not to let it happen. At least that's what Kendall said."

"But . . . if I want to and Logan does too, why are we making it so difficult for each other?"

"Because none of you want to make the first move."

"You really expect Logan to make the first move?" Camille replied skeptically. Jo tilted her head. "No, I don't. He has too many doubts."

Camille nodded, hesitating briefly. "I'm just afraid that if I would ask him face to face, he'll turn me down."

Jo nodded. "Kendall and I have discussed this as well and we believe we have found a solution to this problem."

Camille was beginning to regain some hope. "And what kind of solution is that?"

Jen Knight entered the room only to see Logan standing in the middle of the room surrounded by his books. She smiled. "What are you doing there?"

"I think about which books to take home and which ones to leave."

"But you know you won't be released until next Saturday, right?"

Logan nodded, eyes back to his books. "As I know myself, my decisions will last until next Saturday."

Jen laughed. "Well, maybe you could take a break, because I've got something for you."

Logan looked up, suspiciously eyeing the white envelope in her hand. "Is there something wrong with my results?"

Jen shook her head. "No, your test results are very promising. This envelope was in my office today. Someone must have put it there. It only has your name on it."

Frowning, Logan made his way through his books and took the envelope. "That's strange," he murmured.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Jen said confidently. "But I'm curious, so when you know what this is, let me know."

"Alright," Logan replied with a gentle smile.

"Okay, then I'll go back to work. I have a lot of things to do."

"Aren't the girls helping you?" Logan asked, frowning. Jen waved it off. "I gave them this week off. It's exemplary that they work during their holidays, but they should still enjoy their summer time, don't you think?"

"Oh yes, sure," Logan murmured, unable to fully explain the sudden disappointment he just felt.

"See you later, Logan," Jen said gently and left the room. Logan just stood there for several seconds, trying to process the new events. Then he walked over to his favorite spot by the window, sank into an armchair, looked at the white envelope in his hand. Then he opened it and was surprised to see that it was a handwritten letter. He liked this kind of communication, it was his favorite. So, the fact that he had now received a letter that wasn't written with a computer made this situation even more interesting to him. Curious, he began to read.

Dear Logan

You once asked me if I was happy. I never gave you an answer to that, so I'm going to do it now. Am I happy? The answer is no, not really. I am aware that there are so many things in life that one is lucky to have. Like my family and Jo for example. That should be enough for me, but it's not. Because in all other areas of daily life I feel helpless and often overwhelmed, even if I try to hide it as best as possible. The school is a good example of this. For others, school may be a great experience, but for me, every day there is a living nightmare, which probably has a lot to do with my classmates.

Besides that, I always feel like I'm looking for something. Something I can't describe, but I know I absolutely need it. But lately I started to doubt if I would ever find this something. I was about to give up . . . until I met you.

Ever since you came into my life, I no longer felt the need to search for that specific thing because I think I finally found what I was looking for. You may think I'm joking here, but I'm telling the truth. But believe me when I say I don't want to overwhelm you. You may think nobody cares about you, but in my eyes, you are the most unique person I have ever met. And nothing in the world would make me happier than spending more time with you. That's all I ask for. And if you might feel the same way or are just curious, I'd love to hear your thoughts. But please don't feel pressured into anything. If you need time to think about it, of course I'll give you that time. Let me know your decision once you're ready.

Camille

"It's been almost a week, Jo," Camille said in frustration as she and Jo sat in their room on that Friday afternoon, discussing the current situation.

"I can't explain it," Jo said thoughtfully. "Kendall was so sure it would work."

"I can understand that he needs time to think things over, but then I would at least have expected him to text me to let me know. That wouldn't be a problem for me. But no, nothing came." She sighed. "Maybe I made a big mistake. Maybe I misunderstood the signs. He probably doesn't like me after all and-"

"Cami, don't do this to yourself," Jo interjected soothingly. "We'll find out what happened."

Before Camille could reply, Jo's cell phone rang. She glanced at the display. "It's Kendall."

"Can you put him on speaker?"

Jo nodded and accepted the call. "Hi, Kendall."

"Hi, I just wanted to ask if there's anything new."

"No, nothing at all," Camille said.

"Hmmm . . . that's weird . . . But you checked your mailbox too, didn't you?"

"Why would she do that?" Jo asked in astonishment. Kendall was silent, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Then he said slowly, "Um, let me ask you a quick question, how exactly did you expect Logan to get in touch?"

"I wrote him my number in the letter," Camille replied. "But why are you asking?"

Kendall let out a small sigh. "Okay, I understand. You guys haven't known Logan as long as I have, that's okay."

"What are you talking about?" Jo asked impatiently.

"Okay, let me explain. You know that Logan is not like everyone else. What others take for granted doesn't count for him. So, if Logan gets a letter, what do you think would be the most natural way to reply to it?"

Jo and Camille looked at each other in confusion for a second, then suddenly it hit them, their eyes widening.

"Of course!" Camille exclaimed, storming out of the room. Jo turned back to the phone. "You could have said that earlier."

"I assumed you would have figured that out yourself."

"We'll talk about it later," Jo decided, hung up without saying another word and ran after Camille. She found her by the mailbox, her disappointed expression told her everything. "It's empty."

Jo thought quickly. "Who is responsible for the mail in your family?"

"My mom," Camille replied, walking back into the house. Jo followed her.

Mrs. Roberts was cleaning the kitchen counters when the girls rushed in.

"Mom, did you get a letter for me today?" Camille asked excitedly. Mrs. Roberts turned around and looked thoughtfully at her daughter. "Hmmm, let me think . . . no, I don't think so."

"Maybe another day? Please Mom, this is really important."

"Let me check." She walked to a table in the hallway where she kept the mail and sorted through each item. "Hmmm . . . Most are letters for your father . . . Oh, wait a minute . . . I think there's something here." She pulled out a white envelope from under a pile of advertising brochures and studied it carefully. "Indeed, your name is on it. Weird, I didn't notice it at all. It probably slipped between all the flyers."

"Can I have my letter, please?" Camille asked impatiently.

Mrs. Roberts smiled. "As a concerned mother, may I ask what's so special about this letter? Also, since when does someone send you letters anyway?"

"Mom, please!" Camille groaned in agony. Mrs. Roberts finally showed mercy and handed Camille the letter, which she immediately tore open.

"And?" Jo asked curiously.

Camille's eyes had darted quickly across the paper, now she looked up, her expression was tense. "What time is it?"

Jo looked at her watch. "Almost two thirty. Why?"

Camille cried out in panic, then turned and ran away, shouting, "I have to go!" and stormed out of the house. In her haste, she didn't realize she'd dropped the letter. Jo bent down and picked it up, surprised by the fact that there were only a few words on it.

Friday, three o'clock, bench by the pond. I'll be there.

L.

Jo turned to Camille's mother. "Mrs. Roberts, do you remember when the flyers came?"

Camille's mother thought for a moment. "It must have been on . . . Wednesday, I think. Yes, for sure. Wednesday."

"Wednesday," Jo repeated quietly and looked at her watch again. "Gosh, I hope she makes it in time."

As soon as Camille stepped through the doors of the hospital, her gaze fell directly on the large clock behind the information desk. Ten minutes past three. She cursed inwardly as she ran down the corridor. She was almost at the door that led out into the park when a voice behind her called her name in amazement, "Camille?"

Camille turned and saw Jen walking towards her. Great.

"What are you doing here? I gave you and Jo the week off." She looked at Camille curiously, looking as if she wouldn't leave until she got an answer to her question. Camille thought quickly. "Um, yeah, that was really nice of you. I'm only here because . . ." She had no idea what to say. But fate was on her side this time, because Jen's phone rang at that moment. She answered, listened briefly, then said to Camille, "I have to take this. But let's talk some more later, okay?" With that she walked away. Camille stood there for a moment, then reality returned, and she hurried outside to the park, praying she wasn't too late.

He was still sitting on the bench. Elbows on knees, chin resting on palms. He stared into the water, his expression was impassive. Camille found that body language far from promising, her hopes disappeared. She slowly walked towards him until she was finally standing next to him. "Logan . . ."

He didn't look at her, just kept looking at the water in the small pond. " I wasn't sure if you would show up," he said quietly.

"I'm here now." Camille vowed at that moment never to tell him the real reason why she was late. How could this mistake have happened to her? Hadn't she been so interested in Logan from the start because he wasn't like everyone else? And yet she expected him to behave like everyone else. It was at this point that she realized she didn't know him as well as she seemed to think she did and promised herself that she would do better in the future . . . if there was still a future after all.

"May I sit down?" she finally asked him cautiously. He just nodded. She sat down next to him, waiting for him to say something. He did not. So, she kept waiting. And the longer she waited, the more she could feel herself becoming calmer. At the beginning her head was full of thoughts and worries, but the longer she sat here on the bench next to Logan, the more relaxed she became. After a few more minutes of absolute silence, Logan finally spoke, just a single word, "Better?"

Camille was amazed. Once again it was as if Logan knew exactly what was going on inside her. Where did this unique gift come from? He already seemed to know her better than she knew him, and her guilty conscience was back. She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Good." He pulled something out of his shirt pocket, it was her letter. "I read it."

It was needless for him to say it, but it gave Camille a reason to reply. "And? What do you think?"

Again, Logan was silent for a long time. Camille wondered if that was a good or bad sign.

"Well . . . first of all, I really appreciate your honest opinion, and I'm honored for the things you've written about me. But while I read it, I also asked myself a few questions. Questions for later, not for now. Except this one, when you write that you want to spend more time with me, what exactly did you mean by that?"

"Just like I wrote it in the letter. I want to get to know you better, want to know everything about you, want to spend time with you."

"Yes, but as what?"

This question hit her hard. What should she answer? Was there a correct answer? And if so, what if she gave the wrong answer? Would it all be over before it really started? But before she could get a word out, Logan continued, "I mean, please don't get me wrong. I'd love to spend more time with you as well. I enjoy talking to you, I can't deny that. It's just that I . . . well, I have absolutely no experience with . . . relationships of any kind. And-"

"Logan," Camille said, gently touching his arm. He looked at her questioningly.

"I don't have any experience with relationships either." For some reason, she found it surprisingly easy to confess this personal matter to Logan. "And so, I can understand if you want to take this slow."

"Really?" he asked in astonishment. Apparently, he had expected anything but this.

"Yes. So, if you just want to be friends for now, then that's fine with me. I want to get to know you better, and if that path is most comfortable for you, then I look forward to exploring it with you, as friends."

He grimaced slightly. "To be honest . . . I also don't have a lot of experience with having or being a friend either. Actually, I've only had one friend and that's Kendall. So . . . that doesn't sound very promising, does it?"

Camille had to smile slightly, she just couldn't help it. "You know, Jo is my only friend as well."

Logan looked down for a moment, then he said slowly, "So, we just do it? Being friends, I mean."

Camille nodded. "Yes."

"Hmmm . . . Well, as your friend, I should inform you that I'm going home tomorrow."

"I'm glad to hear that. I mean, of course I'll miss you here at work, but I'm really happy for you that you can finally go home."

"You know, as soon as I'm settled in again, you're more than welcome to come and visit. I'm sure my parents won't mind."

"Yes," Camille said brightly. "I will do that."

They smiled at each other, didn't talk much after that. It wasn't necessary, both just enjoying the time together outside in the fresh air, with all the sounds of nature. It was immensely peaceful.