Small Steps (Holes 2)

“No, I think I would have remembered a name like that.”

Debbie Newberg laughed. “I suppose so,” she said.

Armpit looked at his economics book opened on his desk. He knew he could forget about studying tonight.

22

A letter came the next day. Armpit checked the mail when he got home from school. It was addressed to Theodore A. Johnson, and its return address was the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. His middle name was Thomas.

The letter was written with a purple pen on hotel stationery in remarkably neat handwriting.

Dear T (or should I say Dear A?),

I hope you don’t mind a long and dopey letter. I know it’s going to be long and dopey, because every letter I’ve written to you has been long and dopey. They just keep getting longer and dopier! Of course, I don’t actually mail them, so I guess it doesn’t matter whether you mind or not.

I always say all kinds of stupid things about how much I miss you, and wish you were here, and lame junk like that. Once I even used the L word! How dumb is that??? Nobody falls in L after a bowl of ice cream and a ten-minute walk! Now you know why I didn’t mail the letters. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid!!!

It’s just that you and Ginny are really my only friends. Is that pathetic or what? I don’t mean you and Ginny are pathetic. I’m the one who’s pathetic!

It feels good to write to you, even if I know you’ll never read it. It sure beats talking to my shrink. I can see your face in my mind. Your eyes. Your smile makes me feel safe.

I’m so mad Dr. Doofus showed up when he did. That’s my new name for him. He’s a doctor of doofology.

I think you were going to kiss me. I know I wanted you to kiss me. I still do. Oh, so much!

God, this is even worse than yesterday’s letter! You know, I almost sent it to you. I put a stamp on it and everything. There was a mail slot by the elevator. I held the letter over the slot. I’d lift one finger, then another. It was kind of like standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering what it would be like to jump.

Do you think I’m insane? Of course not, because you’re not reading this.

When I sing love songs, it helps for me to picture someone in my mind. I used to just make up some imaginary boy of my dreams and sing about him. He looked nothing like you. He was much more handsome. Just kidding. Anyway, now, when I sing those songs, I picture you.

Don’t get all freaked out. I’m not saying I love you. It just helps me sing the songs.

I wonder what you’d think if you actually read this.

Okay, Kaira, this is getting scary. You’re not going to mail this letter. You’re not! You’re not! No way!!!!

Okay, I’m going to have to write something really embarrassing now. Then I can be sure I’ll never mail it.

Okay, here goes.

I liked it when I touched your armpit. It made me feel all goosey inside.

Aaaah!

Oh, I miss you so much!!!!

XOXOXOX

Kaira

23

“Wow,” Armpit said, then read the letter again. He imagined her holding the envelope above a mail slot, closing her eyes, and letting it go. Maybe she screamed.

He wished he knew how to get in touch with her. He looked at the back of the T-shirt. She probably was in Los Angeles now, but he had no idea what hotel she was staying at, or what TV character’s name she was using.

It was too bad she didn’t include her cell phone number, but why would she? She never planned to mail the letter.