Once the bell rang, releasing everyone from their freedom and sending them into their first hour classes, Lisa parted with everyone and ran back to her locker and grabbed her letter before running to the library terrace.

As she settled on the hot pavement, she pulled the letter out of the envelope gingerly, chuckling at the bubble letter message on the envelope; I Can't Do Any Actual Art. This Is The Best You'll Get From Me. Sorry.
    
     Dear Elle,

I don't know if I believe in fate. I feel like it's kind of pick and choose.

No, that doesn't make sense outside of my head. Yes, I do believe everything happens for a reason. I don't know the reason for this yet, but I'm sure there's some fate-y reasoning behind our acquaintance though.

There's another similarity between us. Look at us, coming together.

I like the idea of a ball. We should have it be a masquerade. Everyone could come and wear a mask except for us.

That actually sounds really nice. I really wanna do this wedding now. I should erase that, but I have adopted writing in pen for these letters.

I need to stop before people actually start confusing the two of us for each other.

And on accounts of our couples counselor, I'm one hundred percent positive that Jimmy Fallon would help us out more than Oprah... Unless you want something for free. Then we go with Oprah.

Actually, we could just counsel ourselves. I am an all-knowing senior, after all.

Oh, and Depp-elganger is not allowed either. I'm keeping a list of all of the things that are a great big no-go to put in my vows. Depp-elganger is definitely near the top.

Right with punny and calling me Hook.

Elle. Darling Elle. If I am to be a pirate, I am to be an entire pirate. Jewelry and accessories included. No ifs, ands, or puns about it.

Are you in theater? You should be. You're very exaggerative. Pigs will never fly, and your references are okay.

Your jokes are funny every once in a while, let's not kid ourselves.

As inside information, guys are obsessed - not infatuated - with politics on Russia, the debate over the question Coke or Pepsi?, how many sweater vests is too many, and global warming. You had that one right.

Meaning things dearly... That could be our always, J. <-- If this is a girly reference, I absolutely do not get it. At all. Because I'm a manly man. And that is a girly reference.

How does wearing pirate stuff make me strange if you made me a pirate?

You're infatuated with weirdos in eyeliner. That's the only explanation.

You know how there are things girls are supposed to know how to do? Hair, nails, debate, etc. It's the same with guys, but with different things. Those are the only things that I can actually say I can do well. I can snowboard, not skateboard, but they're practically the same thing. So I'm an impressive guy.

The word roast is officially on the list.

You're a huntress? That's pretty awesome. That's super awesome, actually. Very rad. Swagadocious.

Don't be ridiculous Elle. You already said you were an ugly crier, don't do that to unicorns.

That is not nice.

Why Elle, my darling, no one would need to be guilted into adoring you. True story.

No mixed signals. Leo talk is a no-go.

And magazine quizzes do not count.

Love J

P.S. Sorry about your poop magic experience.

P.P.S. Since I have permission.... Beep beep

All because you love, J

Lisa smiled rereading over the really cute parts. She felt bad as she thought of how she wished she knew J in real life because she'd definitely be in love with him. Well, maybe not love, but extreme like like.

Shaking her thoughts loose, Lisa pulled her pen from the burgundy wrap-around headband she wore that day and started on J's letter to put in his locker before he got ready to go to his second hour.