From: Lucas Garver >

To: Bailey Prescott >

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July 25, 2012 at 11:29 PM

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Dear Bailey,

I accept the mission. When you get that cute little ass of yours off the plane in Texas, I'll be waiting. Bring my book, your glasses, and your interest in my uniform. If everything goes as planned, I will see you in less than a month. I should be waiting at your gate when you get of the plane. My flight comes in about fifteen minutes before yours. We officially have a date.

You have me intrigued about your middle name. I really want to know what it is. How about we write our middle names in the books and that way we have something interesting to look at when we have to separate? We'll wait until we've said our goodbyes and boarded our separate flights before we look.

I've been thinking about you. Earlier today a girl walked by in front of the windows in our office. Nothing goes unnoticed by us because we are bored out of our minds in that stupid strip mall. She had long hair like yours that she wore on top of her head and she must've been coming from the gym or something because she was wearing black yoga pants like you did that day in the airport. In the past I would have totally checked her out, but I found my self staring at her, but thinking about you. You looked better yoga pants, and while she had long hair, it didn't make me want to touch it like I wanted to touch yours. She also didn't have on those glasses that drive me crazy.

I wanted her to be you. I wanted to walk outside and hold your hand. I wanted to hold you and kiss you again. It's becoming very consuming, especially since I know I'm going to get to see you soon. I find myself spacing off when I'm supposed to be doing something, just thinking about the way your lips tasted. You have me wrapped around your finger and I don't even know your middle name. But I want to. I want to know everything about you.

How are things going with your dad? How are your sisters? My brother is going to meet me for a few minutes after I see you in Texas. He doesn't live too far from the airport and said he'd drive in and pick me up so we could grab a late dinner before I got on my connecting flight. I'm nervous about seeing him again. Even though we talk and keep up with each other's lives, it still seems like he's growing up so fast and I'm missing it all. It's different than when mom was around and I saw him everyday. I know it's going to be weird for a few minutes, but then I'll get used to the man he's becoming and he'll look past the small details that give away that I'm a Marine and just treat me like his big brother again. I tucked most of his items into a bag that I'm going to carry-on so he can have them at the airport and I won't have to try to ship them.

I've started reading the letters. I didn't know that my grandma was a cheerleader in high school, but she included a picture in one of the envelopes she sent to my grandpa. The corners are starting to fray a little the way paper does after years, but I can see her perfectly. She told my grandpa she was elected to the squad. It turns out back then you were elected by your classmates. There weren't tryouts. In the picture she has on a sweater with a giant letter "L" in the chest and her pleated skirt goes all the way down to her ankles.

She signed they letter, "Your friend." It made me realize that they were just friends when they started writing each other. I thought I would just read them as I pulled them out, but now I want to make sure I figure out their order. I found my grandpa's response, but I told myself I have to wait until after I write you to read it. I thought a lot about it and decided I want to read them slowly instead of all at once. It is the last pieces of them that I will see new. After they're finished, I won't ever get to hold something new and unknown of theirs in my hands.

My grandma's house sold today. We still have to wait for escrow to close, but the whole process went quicker than I thought it would. Just like I wanted, a young family bought it, but it didn't ease the ache I felt in my heart. Is that stupid? I never wanted to live in that house without her, but it just seems like I'm letting go of something that stood for something important for my brother and I. It was where we spent the holidays as kids and of course where I said goodbye to my mother. I've decided I don't want any more goodbyes. I've had too many of them already.

Love,

Lucas

P.S. I promise to still be into you if your middle name is Bertha. Beatrice? Gertrude? I can look past it. We just won't pass it down to any of our children.

Dear Diary,

I'm going to kiss Bailey until she can't catch her breath. I'm going to wrap my arms around her so that I can feel every inch of her against me no matter who's watching. I'm going to spend every minute looking at her before she has to get on her stupid fucking plane and leave me. And then, Diary, I'm going to immediately start planning the next time we can be together.

*****Please remember to vote and comment. Do you have a cool story about your middle name?