Dear Maverick (Love Letters 3)

Which she doesn’t.

Fucking, Lena.

Chapter Two

True

I hate my best friend. Totally and completely. I’m plotting her death while she sleeps on my couch. Hate.

She’s evil. The queen of narcissistic

assholes and she must die a horrible burning death. Or something equally as evil but not so messy because I’m a chickenshit and can’t deal with gore.

I tossed out the letter to Maverick; at least, I thought I had. Turns out the wench dug through my trash and mailed it!

She mailed my rambling, stupid letter to a man who has no idea I exist. Except now he does, and now he knows I’m a rambling idiot.

“Stupid bitch,” I mutter walking past the couch where Lena is fake sleeping, so I don’t clobber her to death.

“Whatever, just open the fucking thing already,” she mumbles.

I pause, wondering if I could get away with it.

“You’d miss me.”

“Not anymore.”

Ignoring the asshole friend on my sofa, I go to my room and lock the door. No way she gets to witness this embarrassment. Ripping the stupid envelope with my stupid name open, my need to murder Lena intensifies.

Dear “True,”

I get it, Lena, you’re bored. Can’t bug me at home, so you do it where I need all my concentration and wits about me. Piss off you spoiled brat, or next time, I won’t “accidentally” run over your foot like when you were 16.

You’ve done some pretty shitty fucking things over the years, but this is your lowest, girl. Go find one of your brothers to pester. I don’t need your shit.

Now, on the off chance that letter was legit and there really is a girl named True Sidero on the other side of this letter then, well, my cousin sucks even more.

She likely mailed this damn thing when you thought you were safe. I wish I could say it’s the first time she’s been an asshole, but it’s not.

Ask her why I ran her damn foot over. You might question that friendship.

Unfortunately, she’s right. (Tell her I said that, and I’ll deny it.) You do need to connect with someone, True. It’s human nature.

I won’t mind hearing from you in the future should you choose to write me again. Barring you’re a flesh and blood human being and not Lena being Lena.

Officer Maverick Conners

I’m laughing so hard the entire bed is shaking and rattling against the wall. I’m kind of glad I’m not the only one cursing Lena. I do wonder about the running over of her foot, though.

Dashing from bed, I rush out to the living room and ask her. “Why’d Maverick run your foot over?”

Lena shoots up so quickly she loses her balance and falls off the couch. “He told you about that?”

Smirking, I finally have the upper hand with this wenchy friend of mine. “He said next time, it wouldn’t be accidental.”

“That rat bastard! What else did he say?” She grabs for the letter I’m holding out of her reach.

“That you’re a spoiled brat. And you need to find better shit to do than mess with people.” She looks sheepish at the accusation, and I almost feel bad.