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Transcript of This is a work of fiction. SINCERELY, ARIZONA -...
Thisisaworkoffiction.Similaritiestorealpeople,places,oreventsareentirely
coincidental.
SINCERELY,ARIZONA
Firstedition.August25,2015.
Copyright©2015WhitneyGraciaWilliams.
WrittenbyWhitneyGraciaWilliams.
TableofContents
CopyrightPageDedicationSincerely,ArizonaSincerely,Arizona|
WhitneyG.
Toyou,BestReaders
Ever:-)
Sincerely,Arizona**Note:Thisisnota
standaloneoranovel.It’sthepreviouslyunpublishedepiloguetoSincerely,Carter,andtheeasiestwayIcouldmakesureasmanyreadersaspossiblehaveitsinceInormallypostthingslikethisonmyblog.:-)
PS—Yes,Iwillstillpostthisonmyblog
PPS—ThistitlewillbeofficiallyreleasedSeptember
10th.Justfriends.We’rejustfriends.No,wait.We’reno
longerjustbestfriends...
Sincerely,Arizona
WhitneyG.
33.WonderlandArizonaThenightofthediner
incident...“Ilovedyouthen.Ilove
younow.AndIalwayswill...”Carter’swordswerecurrentlyrepeatingthemselvesinmymindasheheldmeclose.
Withasmileonmylips,Ireplayedthepastfewhoursofusinbed,howmonthsofdistancewereeasilyerased.
AsCarterranhisfingersthroughmyhair,Ilookedintohiseyes—unsureofwhattosay.Whattodonext.
Therehadtobesomeexceptionaboutreturningtothesemesterlate,somespecialclauseabouthavingyourbestfriendtellyouhelovesyouandyourworldcomingtoacompletestandstill.
Eveniftherewasn’t,Iwastemptedtocallthedean
ofacademicsandask.Ididn’twanttogoback
toFranceatall.Iwantedtostay
“Areyouokay?”Hebrushedastrandofhairoutofmyface.
Inodded.“Whyareyousoquiet,
then?Whatareyouthinkingabout?”
“France.”Hesecuredhisarms
aroundmywaistandrolled
meontopofhim.“I’mtakingyoutotheairportontime.AsmuchasI’dlikeforyouto,Iwon’tletyoustaythistimeeither.”
“WhatmakesyouthinkIwouldeverconsiderstaying?”Iasked.“IwasjustthinkingabouthowIcan’twaittogetbackactually.”
“Inthatcase,Icantakeyoutotheairportrightnowifyoulike.”HislipscurvedintoasmirkandIrolledmyeyes
—unabletokeepupthatcharade.
“Threeandahalfdays...”Isaidsoftly.“IfeellikeI’vealreadywastedmostofmytimeherebeingmadatyou.”
“No,youwasteditwithSean.”
34.YouAreInLoveArizonaWiththetasteofpancake
batterstillonmylipsandthestingofmyrecenttattooonmyarm,Ihuggedmymotherdayslater.She’dbeenright;I’dnearlyforgottentostopbyduringmylastfewdays.I’dbeentoobusytryingtospendeverysecondwithCarter,tomakeupforlosttime.
“Ithoughtyouhatedwearingturtlenecks.”She
lookedmeupanddown.“Didyounotpackenoughclothesorsomething?”
“Unfortunately.”Iblushed,thinkingaboutthebrightredhickeysthatCarterhadplacedallovermyneckhoursearlier.“So,youcanguiltmeintocomingoverbutyoudon’twanttoridealongtoseemeoffattheairport?”
“Thefirsttimewastraumaticenough,”shesaid.“Iexperiencedenough
anxietytolastmealifetime.No,thankyou.Iloveyouallthesamethough.”
Ilaughedandhandedheraprintoutofflightinformationforhersanity.“You’llgetoveryourfearsandflytoFrancesomeday.”
“No.”Shekissedmyforehead.“You’llalwayscomevisit.Speakingofwhich,haveyoudecidedhowoftenyou’llbeseeingCarter?”
Ishookmyhead.Originally,hisintentofonceamonthsoundedprobable,butlastnight,whenwe’ddiscussedit,werealizedthatoftenwouldneverwork.Betweenhislawrequirements,andmyweekendsspentstudyinginrestaurants,itwasnearlyimpossible.TheearliestIcouldseehimagainwouldbeduringthesummer.
Sixmonthsfromnow.
“He’sgoingtocomeseemeinJune,”Isaid.“Healreadyboughttheticket.”
“Good!”Shehuggedmeagain.“Andwhenwillyoubecomingbackhere?”
“August.”“Evenbetter.”She
smiled.“AreyougoingtoapologizetoSeanwhenyougetback?”
“Definitely,”Isaid.“Ialreadysenthimanemail,butI’mgoingtodomybestto
saysorryinperson.Ifhedoesn’tslamthedoorinmyface,thatis.”
“Hewon’t.”Shelookedasifshewasgoingtosaysomethingelse,butNicolewalkedintotheroom.
“Heythere!”Sherushedover,givingmeadramatichug.“Wereyougoingtoleavewithouttellingmegoodbye?”
“Iwould’vevideo-chattedwithyoutomorrow.”
“Well,then!”Shelaughed.“GoodtoknowI’mbackinsecondcitizenterritorysinceyou’rebackwithCarter,huh?”
TwoWeeksGoneTwoWeeksGone.CarterSubject:CrackandCreamDearArizona,Thankyouforsendingme
yourrecentconcoctionofdriedwafflechipsandbuttercreaminthemail.Icanhonestlysayit’sjustasgood(ifnotbetter)thanGayle’s.(Joshsaystheywere“justokay”althoughhefuckingstolemostofit.)However,I
havetobehonestwithyouandtellyouthatJoshthinksyourintenttocallit“SweetCocaine”won’tbeagoodidea.Hesuggests“SweetHigh.”
Ipersonallythinkbothareprettyterrible.
Theoppositecanbesaidofthepicturesyouincludedthough.(Areyoutemptingmetocomeseeyousooner?)I*did*sendyoualetterlastweekandI’mnotsurewhy
youdidn’tgetit;checkagaintomorrow.Maybeitwasdelayedfortheweatherhere.
Thirtyonedays.Sincerely,Carter
Subject:Re:CrackandCream.
Well,goodthingIdidn’tlistentoJosh(oryou).Myteacherthoughtitwas
brilliantandIwonourclass’sweeklychallenge.(ThankyouforkeepingmysupplyofGayle’sbatternever-ending.)
Gladyouappreciatedthepictures.I’veattachedmore,andyes,Iamtemptingyoutocomesooner.IactuallyjustcheckedthemailandgotTWOlettersfromyou.I’llopenthemafterweSkypelatertonight.
Thirtydays,Carter.Howmanytimesdowehavetogothroughthis?
Offtoeatmore‘sweetcocaine’,
Arizona
DearCarter(Josh)DoyoureallythinkI
don’tknowCarter’shandwriting?DoyoureallythinkhewouldEVERwrite,
“I’msogladIlistenedtoJoshaboutyou.Hewassorightaboutfuckingyouonegoodtimeand[you]fallinginlovewith[me].That’salsowhyJoshwillforeverbemynumberonebecauseyouhadaverylongandselfishmoment,butJoshhasALWAYSbeenloyal”??!!
Growthehellup!Andlearnhowtowritea
propersentence.(Aren’tyouinlawschool?)
Arizona
DearArizona(Paininmyass)
OfcourseI’mawarethatyouknowCarter’shandwriting,butsinceweshouldn’twastetimediscussingthingsyouknow,herearesomethingsyoudon’t:Yournever-endingphonecallsandSkype
sessions(mostlyyourloudasslaughterandincessantbabblingaboutabsolutelynothing:“Ohmygod,Carter...Imissyousomuch,Carter...”Thisdistanceiskillingmeeveryday,carter”)havekeptmeupforWEEKS.Isittoomuchforthetwoofyoutogobacktostrictlyletterwritingandemails?
IthinkIlikedyoubetterwhenyouweren’ttalkingtoeachother.
Yougrowupfirst.Iwilllearnhowtowritea
propersentence...Fromsomeonewhodoesn’tstartherownsentenceswiththeword“And”.
Josh
Subject:SkypeApp.DearArizona,I’mnotsurewhat
could’vehappenedtoit
betweenlastnightandtoday,butit’snotworking.Atall.Eventhevolumelooksasifit’snotworking.Iwon’tbeabletogetitfixeduntilnextweek,butI’llhavetouseJosh’scomputertoreachyoutonightsowemayhavetotalkanhourlaterthanusual.
Sincerely,CarterSubject:Re:Skype
Camera.LOLOLOL!
Arizona
35.NewRomanticsCarterIclosedAri’slatestemail
andclickedonmylatesttermpaper.Onnightsliketonight,itwasifshe’dneverleft,asifshewasstillminutesawayfrombeingpickedupatherhouse.
Overthepastfewweeks,anewsortofroutinehaddevelopedbetweenus.InsteadofweekendmeetupsatGayle’stherewereearly
morningemails:Shetradedmeherrainycoastsinexchangeforwhitesandedbeaches,andIgaveherglimpsesofmomentsatGayle’swhilesheshowedmeherconcoctionsinsidethecookingschool.
Atnight,wetalkedforhours—despitethefactthatwebothhadtonsofworktodo.Wevideo-chattedwheneverourroommates
wereasleep,andofcourse,therewerestillletters.
Ididn’tthinkitwaspossibleforeitherofustoeverletthatgo.[...]
WhenI’dreachedtheeighthpageofmyassignment,IrealizeditwasmidnightsoIheadeddownstairs.
“Haveyoutalkedtoyourwifetonight?”JoshaskedasIsteppedinfrontoftheTV.“If
so,bravo.Ibarelyheardyourconversationthistime.”
“You’vemovedArifromgirlfriendtowifenow?”
“Mightaswell.”Hegroaned,handingmehislaptop.“AndIswearIwasn’ttryingtokillyourSkypeapp.Iwasjusttryingtoruinitsoyou’dneverbeabletouseitagain.”
“Didyouactuallyhearwhatthefuckyoujustsaid?”
“Idid.”Helaughed.“Wait,beforeyougo.Ineedtoaskforyouradviceonsomething.”
“Yes,yourtasteinclothesisabsolutelyterrible.Wasthatyourquestion?”
“No.”Herolledhiseyes.“Ithink—”Hepaused.“IthinkImightactuallylikesomeone.Morethanjustanormallike...”
“I’msorrytohearthat,”Isaid.“You’renotmytype.”
“Whatthefuck,Carter?”Hegrabbedhisbeer.“DidIgetsarcasticwithyouwhenyouweremopingaboutArizonaformonths?Whenyouwerecryinglikeasevenyearoldwheneverywomanonthisbeachwaswillingtogiveherpussytoyouandyouweretooblindtoseeit?”
Ishookmyhead,refusingtoentertainhiswaredmemories.“Okay,fine.You
likesomeone.Doesthissomeonehaveaname?”
“Shedoesn’t.That’sactuallyherbestquality,”hesaid.“ButIdon’tthinkshe’sawarethatIactuallylikeherbeyondwhat’scurrentlyhappening.There’sonlysomuchmoreofthis‘justfriends’shitIcantake,youknow?I’mnotyou.”
“Isthere’saquestioncoming?”Iasked.“Oristhisaventingsession?”
“Ineedyouradviceonhelpingmefigureouthowtogetoutofthefriendzone.PreferablybytheendoftheweekWecandiscussitSaturday..”Hegrabbedapairofearplugsandstuckoneinhisear.“Okay.I’vetoldyou,soyoucangonow.”
ASneakpeekofRESENTMENTbyNicoleLondon
TobethefirsttogetthereleasedateforResentmentandinformationonallupcomingreleasesbyNicoleLondon,joinherMailingList>http://eepurl.com/bkhKNX
ResentmentComingSoonTBRLinkonGoodreads:http://bit.ly/1AiY5e7
Smalltown,USAMia2004DeanCollinsisthemost
irresistibleassholeatCentralHighSchool.
He’syourtypicalcliché,Mr.Popular.The“guy’sguy”who’sbeenvoted“HomecomingKing”twotimesinarow(minusmyvote);thesexystarquarterbackwho’scapableofmakinggrownwomenswoon
fromthesidelines(itreallyissad),andtheguywhocancharmthehelloutofanyadmiringgirlwithasimplesmile,anda“Hey...What’sup?”infivesecondsflat.
Hisfaceistheobjectofsculptures—hardandstrongjawline,deepandpiercinggreeneyesanddimplesthatshowevenwhenhe’snotsmiling.And,asifthatwasn’tenoughforthegodstoendowhimwith,hehasasixpackof
absthathealwaysshowsoff,andfullanddefinedlipsthatsometimesevenmakemewonderwhattheywouldfeellike.
Nonetheless,IalwaysdomybesttoavoidDeanCollinsliketheplague:Ileavethefourclasseswetaketogetherearly,nevergotopepralliestocheerontheteam(Deanistheteam),andthefewtimesthathe’sattemptedthat“Hey...What’s
up?”thingonme,I’veofferedablankstareandwalkedaway.
Todaymyusualavoidanceroutineseemstobegettingtested.Especiallysincehe’scurrentlystandingfivefeetawayfromme.
“Yes?”Ilookupfrommycanvasandstareathimfromacrosstheclassroom.“MayIhelpyouwithsomething?You’renotinartclub.”
“I’maware.”Hesmirks,lookingaroundtheemptyclassroom.“Butitdoesn’tlooklikeanyoneisinartclub...”
Thatpartistrue.There’sactuallynosuchthingas“artclub”atCentralHigh.It’sjustmetakingoverwhateverclassroomIcanfindtopaintforafewhours.
“We’recurrentlyacceptingapplicationsformembership,”Isay,setting
mypaintbrushdownintheeaseltray.“WhatcanIhelpyouwith?”
“Ididcomehereforsomething...”Hestepsintotheroomandpullsthedoorclosed.“But,nowthatyouclaimthatyou’reacceptingapplicationsforyourclub,canIfilloneout?”
“Wedon’tacceptdouchebags,”Isayflatly.“Yourapplicationwouldn’tmakeitpastroundone.”
“Douchebag?”“Yes,douchebag.Would
youlikemetogiveyouthedefinition?”
Laughing,hetiltshisheadtotheside.“I’mwellversedonthedefinition,MiaGray...”Hestaresatmeforalongtime,lookingrightintomyeyes,givingmehisusualcharm.
Iimmediatelybreakourgazeandclearmythroat.“Yousaidyoucameherefor
something?CanyouhurryupandtellmewhatitissoIcangetbacktoaddressingmyartclub?Todayisaveryimportantdayforus.”
“Icanseethat...”Hepullshisbackpackoffhisshoulderandopensit,pullingoutablacknotebook.Myblacknotebook.
“Ifoundyournotebookthismorning,”hesays,“soIwantedtofindyouandgiveitback.Itriedtogiveittoyou
afterPhysicsclassbutIcouldn’tgetyourattention.”
Ireachoutforit,butthenIstop.“Whereexactlydidyoufindit?”
“ItwasintheLostandFound.IjustsawitontopofeverythingintherewhenIgottoschool.”
“Youknow,that’sfunny,”Isay,crossingmyarms.“BecauseI’vebeencheckingLostandFoundeverydayandinbetween
everyclassforweeksanditwasneverthere...”
“Maybeyoujustdidn’tlookhardenough.”
“Ievencheckeditthismorning,anditwasn’tthere.It.Was.Not.There.”
Hesmilesandflipsthroughthepages.“Youhaveaveryprettyhandwriting...”
“Wheredidyoureallyfindit,Dean?”
“Youtakeprettydetailednotes,too.”
“Didyoustealmyfuckingnotebook?”
“Maybe.”Hislipscurveintoasmirk.
WHAT?!Inearlyscream,knowingthatthat’sexactlywhathashappened.“Ihadtorewritetheentirethinginonenight!Thenightbeforeourmidterm!”
Stillsmiling,hewalksoverandsetsitonmyeasel.
“Well,goodthingyousomehowmanagedtostillgetanA,right?Ifitwasn’tforme,youprobablywouldn’thaveknownthatyouwerecapableofrewritinganotebookinanight.Ihelpedyoupushyourboundaries,soIthinkIdeserveathankyou.”
Ittakeseverythinginmenottopickupmycanvasandknockhimoutwithit,butIremaincalm-kindof.Istand
upfrommychairandpushtheeaselbythewindow.ThenIpickupmybackpackandstormoutoftheroom,bitingmyliptopreventmyselffromscreaming.
Imakeittotheparkinglotandheadstraightfortheafter-schoolbusstop,mutteringandcursingundermybreath.
“Mia?”Deancallsmynamefrombehind.“Mia?”
Isaynothing.Mymindisstillstuckonthefactthathestolemynotebook;thathewasinclassthedayIpleadedforeveryonetokeepalookoutforitandletmeknowiftheyknewanything.
Asshole...“Mia...”Hishand
suddenlygrabsmyelbowandheturnsmearoundtofacehim.“Mia,Iknowyoucanhearme.”
“Ireallycan’t.I’mcompletelydeaftoassholeswhostealthings,assholeswhostealthingsonpurpose.”
HegivesmethatgorgeoustrademarkgrinandIalmostsmileback—that’showcharmingheis.Iquicklycometomysenses,though,andsnatchmyarmaway.
“Thankyouforstealingmynotebookandhavingthedecencytogiveitback,”Isay.“Now,ifyouwould
pleasecontinuetoleavemethehellalonefortherestoftheday—No,therestoftheyear,I’dgladlyappreciateit.”Idon’tgivehimachancetorespond.Irushtothebusstopandleanagainstoneoftheposts.
AslightdrizzlebeginstofallandIlookdownthestreet,hopingthattheheadlightsofayellowbusappearsoon.
Itakeoutmyearbudsandturnmymusicuploudly.It’sgoingtotakemeaminutetogetbackintomyoriginalhappymood.
JustasI’mstartingtocalmdown,IseeablackCamarostopinfrontofme.It’sDean-again.
Iturnaroundandgivehimagreatviewofmyback.Iturnmymusicuplouder,justincasehetriestotalktome,butmyheadphonesare
thecheap,flimsykindandtheydon’thaveoutsidesoundblock.
“Letmetakeyouhometomakeupforstealingyournotebook,Mia,”Deansays,actuallysoundingsincere.
Iignorehimandstartnoddingtomymusic,hopinghe’lljustgoaway.
IknewIwasrightforhatinghim...
“Mia...”Hespeaksagain.“Mia,haveyounoticed
you’retheonlyoneatthebusstop?Thelastonelefttenminutesago.”
Discreetly,Iglanceatthewatchonmywristandgroan.I’veforgottenthatthefirstdayofthenewafter-schoolbusschedulestartsthisweek.
Shakingmyhead,Iturnaroundandstarttowalk.There’sacitybusstopaboutsixblocksdown.
IexpectDeantogoaway,buthedoesn't.Hestayson
pacewithmeinhiscar,drivingalongsidemeasIstrollonthesidewalk.
WhenIspeedup,hespeedsup.WhenIcrossstreets,hemakesaU-turnanddoesthesame.AndwhenIreachacrosswalkwithapedestrianstoplight,hetrieshisluckagain.
“Look,Mia,”hesaysleaningoverthepassengerseat.“Letmetakeyouhome.”
“Notinterested.”“Well,atleastletmetake
youtothenextbusstop.”“Afourblockride?No
thanks.”“So,you’rereallygoing
towalkallthewayhomeintherain?”
Ihesitate,nowrealizingthattheslightdrizzlehasturnedintoactualrain,andthatbythelookoftheskiesabove,it’sabouttofallevenharder.
“Yes,”Isay.“Yes,IguessIamreallygoingtowalkallthewayhomeintherain.”
Heparksthecarandgetsout,walkingovertome.Withoutsayinganythingelse,heputshisarmaroundmyshoulderandleadsmetohiscar,openingthepassengerdoor.
“Getin,Mia.”Thepedestrianlightturns
green,andIwanttoback
away,buthatredofDeanornot,I’mnotgoingtolastfourmoreblocksintherain.
Islipinside,andheshutsthedoorbehindme.Hereturnstohisplacebehindthewheelanddrivesthroughthelight.
“Wheredoyoulive?”heasks,lookingoveratme.
“ThecornerofSeventhandBroadway.”
“Okay...”Heturnsontheradio,andI’msurprisedto
hearmyfavoritebandblastingthroughthespeakers.Ialmostcomplimenthimonhisgoodtaste,butthenIrememberhe’sathief.
Thievesdonothavegoodtaste.
Neitherofusspeaksashecoaststhroughthesuburbsandontothebackstreets,butIcanfeeltensionbetweenus;Ievenfeelbutterfliesinmystomach.
AsweapproachSeventhandBroadway,heshakeshisheadandslowshisspeed.“Mia,youdonotlivehere...Thisisjusttheentrancetoyoursubdivision.”
“Okay,anddoyoureallythinkIwouldgiveyoumyrealaddress?I’llwalktherestoftheway.Therainisn’tthatbadnow.”
Smiling,hedrivespasttheentrance,fardownthe
street,andparksthecarinanabandonedlot.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask.“Goback.Gobackrightnow.”
“IneedyourhelpwithAPEnglish.
“Ineedyourhelpwithlearningdirections...Myneighborhoodisbackthere.”
Heignoresmycomment.“APEnglishistheonlyclassIdon’thaveanAin.”
“YoumakeA’s?”
“Yes.”Hesmirks.“ImakeA’s,exceptforEnglish.IhaveaCplusandIneedatleastaBminusifI’mgoingtolookappealingtocolleges.”
“Waitaminute,what?”Itrytotemporarilyputmyannoyancesaside.“You’rethestarfootballplayer.Youdon’tneedtomakegoodgradestogetanathleticscholarship;youjustneedto
keepplayingfootball.Isn’tthatwhatyouwant?”
Hedoesn’tanswerthat.Insteadhesighs.“Ineedyoutohelpmewiththeliteraturecomponentsandhelpmestrengthensomeofmyessays.”
“Whydoyouwantmetohelpyou?”
“Whywouldn’tI?YouhavethebestgradeintheclassandI’mprettysurebeingasmartass,whichyou
clearlyare,requiresquiteafewbraincells,soIfigurethere’snoonebettertoask.”
“Maybe,butI’mnotinterested.”
“I’llpayyou.”Ilookathimforasecond
toseeifhe’sbeingserious.“Isthathowyougetwhatyouwant?”
“No,that’snotmyusualmethod,butIfigureyouwon’tgoforthat.”That
stupidgrinisonhisfaceagain.
“Myservicesdon’tcomecheap,”Isay.“They’renotcheapatall.”
“Honestly,I’dbedisappointediftheywere.”
“Theninthatcase,I’msureyoucan’taffordme.”
“Tryme.”Hecrankstheengineandstartstodrive,headingtowardmyneighborhoodagain.
Ithinkforamoment,unsureofwhattutorsusuallycharge.IcomeupwithanumberIknowhewon’tagreeto.“Twentydollarsanhour.”
“Deal,”hesayssmoothly.“Deal?Justlikethat?”“Whynot?”“Becausethat’salotof
money.”“I’msureyou’llbeworth
everypenny.”
“Fine.We’llstartnextweek.”Iwaitforhimtodropmeoffatthecorner,whereItoldhimIstayed,buthedrivesintotheneighborhoodinstead.
Lookingoveratme,hewarns,“I’mnotlettingyououtofthecaruntilyoutellmewhichofthesehousesisyours?Ineedtomakesureyougethomesafe.”
“So,nowyou’reagentleman?”
“Onlyforsomegirls.”HesmilesandIrollmyeyes,decidingtogiveinsoIcangetthisrideoverwith.
“5632...Downafewmorehousesandonyourleft.”
Henodsandspeedsupalittle,eventuallypullingrightinfrontofmymailbox.
Iimmediatelyunbucklemyseatbeltandcollectmybagfromthefloor.Thanksfortheride.”
“Waitaminute,”hesays.“Ineedyourphonenumber...fortutoringpurposesofcourse,”headdswithaslysmile.
HehandsmehisphoneandIreluctantlytypeinmynumber.Isaveitunder“ForTutoringPurposesofCourse”andgiveitbacktohimbeforegettingoutandrushinginsidemyhouse.
AssoonasImakeitupstairstomyroom,mycell
phonebuzzeswithatextnotification.It’sanunknownnumber.
ThisisDean.Here’smynumber,youcansaveitunder“ForANYPurposesOfCourse...”
Ishould’veknowntostayawayfromhimthatveryday...
