Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the beginning of this story, Epitome Pictures does. I just own the plot.

Chapter 3 Dearest Terri

I can't believe Liberty, Emma thought as she walked down the hallway. What right did she have to judge Rick? Emma shook her head and continued walking.

Straight ahead of her, Rick was standing in front of his locker. Before Emma had even got near him, Spinner walked up behind him.

"Why, hello Richard." Spinner gave an evil smirk. Cautiously, he gulped and looked up. As soon as he realized it was Spinner, he recoiled as if he had been struck.

In one swift motion, Spinner shoved Rick into his locker and closed it, making sure it locked. Like a kid at Christmas, he walked away.

Oh, my gosh, Emma stared at the back of Spinner's head in shock with her mouth wide open. The lockers were somewhat big, but she didn't think someone could actually fit inside one.

"Rick?" She gently tapped on his locker door. "Are you okay?"

"Claustrophobic..." He sounded like he was having a panic attack.

"What's your locker combination?" Emma knew she had to get him out of there quick.

"Seventeen. Four. Thirty... thirty..." His voice began to falter.

"Thirty what?" Emma got no response. "Rick! Thirty what?"

"Two..."

Emma's fingers flew over the combination lock. She tugged on it, but it wouldn't open. She tried again. This time, it gave a little click as it opened. Emma thrust the door open and pulled Rick out. He immediately collapsed. His face was bright red and he was wheezing.

"Are you okay?" Emma knelt down next to him. He was on all fours and the color was coming back to his face. "Do you need me to get the nurse?"

"No thanks. I'll be fine." He threw his stuff into his locker and without even closing it, he took off.

"You're welcome," Emma muttered under her breath. She looked at the floor near her feet. When Rick and tumbled out of his locker, he had sent papers everywhere. She sighed and bent down to pick them up.

In all of the clutter, she found an envelope. It read "To Terri". There was a heart above the "i". Intrigued, Emma opened it up.

Dearest Terri,

My love, can you ever forgive me? I won't doubt your first thought a no. Please though Terri, from the depths of my being I am remorseful at my abysmal act(s) of violence. I have never once pleaded for anything as I am pleading now. I know my apologies are trite, but I guarantee I have changed for the better. I've tried to elucidate this to all the others, but they will have none of it. Terri, I know that if anyone can find me sincere, it's you. I'm not requesting you to be my comrade or companion; I'm solely writing for the objective of your exoneration.

I'll understand if this reaches a conflagration before it touches your hands, but I yearn for your eyes to graze this. Please, if at all possible, could you counter this epistle? Even a post-it with a yes or no would fulfill.

The Man Captured By Your Eyes and Kept By Your Laugh,

Rick

Emma felt a tear run off of her cheek as she read the end. It was absolutely beautiful. Suddenly, her expression turned to stone. She was outraged by how people were treating him. What more did people want from him? He couldn't possibly be any more apologetic than he already was.

Emma put the note in her pocket and finished cleaning up.

So what did you guys think of the letter? I tried to use the biggest words I knew. To be totally honest, I got a lot of them from a thesaurus. Basically, they sum up to this: remorseful-sorry, abysmal-terrible, trite-repetitive, elucidate-clarify, exoneration-apology, conflagration-fire, and epistle-letter.