Page 168 of The Score

Pen,

I have written five drafts of this letter, and I'm still not sure what to say. How to say it. But I'm learning that there may be things I just can't find the words for.

How to explain everything you mean to me? I don't know how to say that going away to college and football is a dream, but it's not perfect because you won't be there. The idea of not seeing you every day is the kind of loud noise that doesn't let me sleep (so please make sure to make it to our video calls and answer all my texts). That the fact you're nervous about it helps, because it makes me want to be strong for you. I always want to be strong for you.

We will survive this time apart. I'll make sure of it. You and I were meant to be friends. I know, because I can't imagine my life without you. When I think of the future, you're always there. When I get drafted, you'll be there. When you find your dream job, I'll be there. Anything that happens to us in this life, we'll be there for each other.

It's like in my shows. In every one of my favorite episodes, I see things that remind me of you and I. The relentless mutual support, the kind that never wavers, even when things get tough around them. A complicity so absolute, they seem able to read each other's minds. So much comfort, you can laugh through anything. The teasing and the banter, the persistent connection, the permanent knowledge that life has highs and lows, but it's worth going through it all when they can go through it hand in hand.

I'm not sure what to make of the fact these characters are always acouple and you and I are friends. It could get confusing, but I won't let it be. That's why I will always be careful when I tell you how I feel. Anything I ever tell you, including this letter, will be things I mean thoroughly. So forgive me if I can't tell youeverythingI feel, for there are words I can't say yet, because I don't understand them. Not fully. Not yet.

Fuck. You know what those three words I can't say (I can't even write them here!!!) mean to me. You've watched some of my favorite episodes with me. You've seen me read fanfic. You know I treasure the confession, even if I don't fully understand what it means for us. You're my friend, and it doesn't feel like I should be using those words too casually. So I won't say them unless I fully understand what to make of them in romance, compared to friendship, and compared to you and I.

But I know I feel them when I think of you. I feel them when I see you laugh, or when we hug, or now as I write the only letter I've ever written. It's a feeling I know will never go away. All I can do is hope that one day I'll understand why they feel so true when I think of you, so I can explain it better than I can today, and be free to say them with all my heart.

Until then, I'll show you how I feel in as many ways as I can. I'll prove to you how important you are to me every day, in a hundred different ways. I just hope it doesn't take me too long to figure my shit out. I really want to tell you these words one day.

Good thing I know we'll always be tight, and I'll get my chance.

Love,

Leon.

I don't realize I'm crying until I fold the piece of paper and put it back in its envelope.

"Such a teen Leon kind of letter," I say through a tight throat.

Teenagers love hard, and loving hard is brave.

Even if they don't always know what they feel. Leon and I didn't, but here we are.

Bear leaves the ground and crouches next to me. He cups my face and leads my eyes to meet him.

His thumb dries away a tear. "Do you know why every past relationship I tried didn't feel right? Do you know why I haven't found my one true love yet? Because I found her when I was ten."

A strangled noise comes out of me.

"I love you, Pen. Now that I know what it means? I can't imagine loving anyone else but you. To feel like this for anyone else seems impossible. I don't care if you call it biology, it's still real to me."

I cry some more. I grab his wrist with one hand. The other rests on his chest, his letter between us.

"When I think of being happy," he says, "I think of you. When I think of being married, I want it to be you. Call it evolution, call it a trick of nature, call it whatever you need to, as long as you think you can feel the same way about me, too."

"I want to call it love." I squeeze his arm. "But I can't lose you. You can't change your mind one day, when you look at our history and decide you didn't get the kind of love they write fanfics about."

He falls to his knees, a sweet smile on his face. This fear of mine— it drags me through the dirt. If I put it out in the sun and he gets to see it, he may understand. If we're lucky, he'll know what to do with it. All I can try is to give it to him, and hope.

He puts his forehead on mine. "Shows, movies, books, fanfic, poetry. They talk about the kind of love I feel for you. I just need you to let me show you."

"You've shown me— too well. You love me harder than I can ever give back. I'm not built like that. I bug you. I tease you. I roll my eyes at anything remotely cheesy—"

"Don't you get it?" He cradles my head. "What I was looking for was next to me all along. I'm done searching."

My heart drums against my breastbone. I find it hard to breathe.

"I love you, Pen. I love that I'm in love with you. But if you can't love me like this, I will be strong for you this way, too. I will be here in whatever way you want me to be. If this kind of love doesn't echo in your heart, I have enough for us both. We'll still be friends. I will love you that way, too."

I purse my lips. Red streams of light sweep through me. The fear I lay at his feet dries and shrivells.