The notes stopped coming for a while, not that it really surprised Martin. He was used to people forgetting about him. During the few times he had been home, he opened the drawer where eah note have been carefully placed. As he had read them again, he had been struck anew by the thoughtfulness of the author.

This particular morning, Martin was lugging his stuff up the stairs to his dismal attic. The house seemed unusually...still. It wasn't just the quiet of the students being at school - there were always a few skipping out on class to catch up on sleep or video games. This went deeper. This was the silence of an empty house. Ah. So it was the end of the semester again and the student had all moved out for the summer. Martin generally hated this time of the year because, while it wasn't exactly fun to come home to a house full of people who tended to mock him, it let him know that he wasn't alone. With everyone gone, the house became even more lonely. However, this morning Martin was too exhausted to care.

He reached his faded door - his mysterious note-leaver was gone for the summer, maybe they had graduated and wouldn't be back at all. That made him sad but he was used to such disappointments by this point in his life. He entered his attic, and in light his thoughts the room felt a little less welcoming that usual. His eyes flew to the Sopwith Camel that hung in front of his window and above his desk. Martin smiled at the memory of that happy day spent at his desk painting the plane, carefully and precisely. It had gotten his head out of the lonely attic for a while. He shook his head and was brought back to the present by the recognition of two pink sticky-notes hanging from the body of the plane. After expecting to never hear from the mysterious person who had made his life just a little but brighter, Martin was struck by a deep happiness that he was sure he hadn't experienced since moving into this place nearly ten years ago. The notes read:

I guess you're away. Too bad. I had hope to meet before the end of the year. BUT, here's my number. I don't live too far away. Call me and we'll get together :) Or don't. Either way. Best wishes, Amelia Mary Kinner.

Martin couldn't believe it. This Amelia had actually bothered to let him know where he could reach her. And, whether she knew it or not, she appeared to be named after the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. He dug around in his pockets for some change - which he happened to find - and hurried out of the house to a nearby payphone to make the call.

His hands shook as he slotted the coins into the machine and then carefully dialed the number. What was he going to say? Would she even answer?

"Hello?" A female voice came through the old phone. It sounded pleasant and Martin took that as a good sign.

"Yes, umm...hi. My name is Martin Crieff and I'm calling for..."

"Martin!" The voice was happy. Strange, but good. "I was hoping you'd call! I'm Amelia... I presume you were calling for me?" Even through the tinny phone, Martin could hear the shake and the rising inflection at the end. So she wasn't sure that he was even calling for her.

"Yes, yes I am." He wanted to calm her as much as he wanted to calm himself. "I found your notes...obviously. Sorry, I'm kind of nervous."

"Oh good. I hope you didn't think it was creepy, me putting on the plane. It looked lovely, by the way."

"Well...thank you." And then Martin could hold back no longer. "I don't think you know how much your notes meant to me. Mean. Seriously, they were pretty much the only thing that made it bearable to come home most of the time."

There was silence. I've scared her off. Well, there's another one gone. And then he heard a strange sound, like a hiccup.

"Are you alright? Amelia? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said so much.."

"I'm fine, it's just...Thinking about how dismal that attic is, I would hate living there and you seem like such a nice, sweet guy...and I know the guys make fun of you a lot and..."

Martin was shocked to realize that she was crying. Over him. A girl crying because he lived in an attic.

"Well, don't cry. Please. It's not really that bad." It was strange to be comforting someone for a change. Usually it was others comforting him. Or no one.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He heard her take a shaky breath. "Listen, can we meet up somewhere. It would be so nice to actually talk to you." Amelia's voice sounded more confident now.

"Um...yeah. I actually have a day off tomorrow, if that would work? I know it's awfully short notice..."

"That's perfect. How about tomorrow, round 4-ish. There's a nice little coffee shop not too far from your place." She gave him the name of a cafe a few blocks away.

"Okay." Martin knew he should say something else, but he wasn't quite sure what that would be.

"Okay."

"Well...bye then."

"See you tomorrow."

Martin hung up the phone. Had he just been asked out? By someone who seemed to actually care about him? He walked back up to his room. Even as tired as he was, there was a smile on his face and a spring in his step.