Arriving home, Jermaine pulled of his shoes and flopped onto his bed. He had always felt that Friday's were supposed to be the most relaxing day of the week, not this one though. But his day had been busy, and stressful, and everything that Friday's were supposed to be the opposite of.

His busy day was also to blame for the decorated envelope, folded and unopened in his pocket. Jermaine pulled the letter out of his back pocket, looking at the little drawings littering the front and spilling onto the back.

Before opening the letter, he jumped off of his bed and closed his room door. His parents were both at work, but he knew his big brother would be home soon, and if his door was open, he would interrupt him. Probably tease him too, and he just wanted to pay attention to the letter.

Dear Stranger

(Yes, I am still going to address you this way. I thought we already did this)

I realize as I am writing this, that I did not think through weekends. I know this may sound strange and a bit too attached, but since your first letter I have come to really look forward to reading your letters.

I think that with us not truly knowing each other yet, I have been able to imagine being the perfect guy, you know? Your letters have been like a beacon in a hard time. Kinda like I have weak ankles, and you have no weaknesses, so you hold me up.(I watched Hercules while I was doing my homework last night and this morning, so there might be a couple references in here aka, I had to reference it, of course)

I got pretty deep there for a second. I should really erase that... With the eraser that only works on pencil. Sweet solid molasses.

In case you are wondering why I don't just rewrite it, or write in pencil, it's because, J. Because how will you read these letters when you are sixty if the pencil has faded by the time you're twenty-three?

How will your children know that the swimsuit model you went to high school with wasn't made up?

What will your crew mates (I am picturing you as Hook from Once Upon A Time until we meet. So yes, I will often be referring to you as a pirate.) have to put words to the gorgeous face you describe?

How will everyone know that you should be the person of the week in every Greek opinion poll?

And I don't rewrite them, because it is the little things that slip out of your mouth (AND a One Direction reference? I am on a hot cinnamon roll!) that let people see the real, real you.

On to other matters of business, I think we should establish a date to meet. I mean, it'll be cool to pretend I was exchanging letters with a pirate, but it will sound super made up when I tell everyone I know about this experience in five years.

I know you said no more Leo, but- Nope. I am not gonna do it. I already force my references on you, I am not gonna force girl talk on you too.

I'm proud of me for that ^ round of applause me. Round. Of. Applause.

Alright now that I have taken care of that (I shouldn't talk to myself in these letters to you. Ugh, no wonder I'm single) I should finish this letter. It's getting quite on the long side.

Love, Elle

(That name is a nickname of mine. I didn't just choose a random name.)

(Oh yeah, you should start finishing your letters nicely. I feel like I'm getting letters from a strange uncle)

Now, Love Elle

Jermaine exhaled through his nostrils a few times as he reread the letter. This girl really was something else.

In that moment, Jermaine felt like it was best that he didn't know her real identity because he would probably be bothering her all of the time. If she was so easy to gravitate towards in paper, he could only imagine her in reality.

Jermaine agreed with the drowsiness of his eyes that it would be best for him to write Elle back later.