Sailor sat, black cotton shorts and old white t-shirt, feet propped up on the desk, Boston record playing Amanda softly in the background. The girl sitting quietly, obviously deep in her own thoughts. As these thoughts run through her head, a realization starts to form in her head. She loves him, without fault, without question, and coupled with the absolute certainty that in some space or time or universe, they will belong together. Before any actual effort comes from such a realization, the girl is interrupted by a figure standing in her door. A girl, skinny as a rail, and a hundred pounds soaking wet, with the whitest white blonde hair hanging halfway down her back. "Hey, are you ready to go?"
"Oh, sure I guess. Where are we going, Kenzie?"
"Dinner, of course. I'm starving."
"Ok, let's go."
Sailor sat in the car, music playing softly in the background. She had been planning to write Mason a letter for four years now. It had been three months since their friendship had come to an abrupt end. Turns out, unrequited love really does get in the way. The idea in her head of being in a bar, sitting counter, listening to the band. All of a sudden, a man sidles up to the counter and takes a seat. She glances over and it's him, Mason, same red hair, same soft smile, but now in a man's body. However, his idea was more immediate. High school sweethearts, marriage, but Sailor could never shake the feeling that they weren't ready for that. Him, too immature. Her, too broken. Eventually, such different ideas caused such a big rift. But now what? She had to go through with it. She had to write that letter. She had to take the chance, even if nothing happened. Sailor was never one for sitting back and doing nothing.
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