Elizabeth and I are 18 now, and about to graduate. I think about our elementary-school friendship, but some memories have blurred. What happened that day in fifth grade when Beth suddenly stopped speaking to me? Does she know that I've been thinking about her for seven years? If only we could go back and discover what ended our relationship.
I have to speak with Beth. I see her sometimes; school is "fine." It's not the same. It never will be. Rumor has it she's Liz now. What happened to Beth?
I can't call her. Should I write? What if she doesn't answer? How will I know what she's thinking?
Yes, I'll write her a letter. These things are easier to express in writing. "Dear Be-", no, "Dear Li-", no, "Dear Elizabeth," I begin. The words flow freely as seven-year-old memories are reborn. I ask her all the questions left unanswered in my mind and pray she will answer. I seal my thoughts in the perfect white envelope and imagine Beth peering into her mailbox. Will she know why I'm writing? Maybe she once thought of writing the same letter.
As the mailman takes my envelope, I wonder if I've made the right decision. Do I have the right to force myself into Beth's life again? Am I simply part of the past? I have taken the first step. Beth has control of the situation now.
One day has passed. Are my words lying on the bottom of the post office floor?
Two days are gone. I'm lost in thought and don't even hear the phone ring.
"Hello? It's Elizabeth."