Dear Maverick (Love Letters 3)

Prologue

True

“Please, please, please, True.”

I shouldn’t have such heartless feelings towards my best friend Lena for begging me to write to her cousin overseas in a branch of the Navy, but I can’t help it. I’d rather stick my hand down the garbage disposal than write to a man I’ve never met.

“Don’t you dare think about it!” Lena warns stepping in front of the sink. The glare I send her way would shut anyone else down. Not her. She’s like a bull in a china shop. Or is that dog with a bone? Maybe both.

“I don’t want to, Lena,” I tell her for the fiftieth time this week, I’m sure.

“I know. But you’d be doing me a huge favor. He and I never got along, and I don’t even think he likes me, why would I write to him?”

“I can’t imagine why.” My droll comment and eye roll are missed by the other woman.

“Puhleaseeeeeee, True!”

“Get off your knees, you’ll scuff my floor.” I have to walk away. Her damn puppy dog eyes are beginning to work on me.

“He can be a good guy,” she calls after me. “It’s not like you’ll ever meet him! He lives half a world away.” Her shrug isn’t comforting. At all.

“C’mon, Lena, why do you really want me to write him?” There has to be more to this story.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she confesses. “I’m worried about you, True. Ever since douche canoe cheated on you, you’ve been…sad. I hate seeing you like this. Ever since preschool, you’ve always been happy and chipper. Never missing a smile. Now, I can’t even remember the last time I saw you crack a grin for crying out loud!” Tears hover in her eyes, and I worry if she’s right.

“I haven’t been that bad.” My words are muttered.

“True, you’re twenty-one, and you haven’t been out since dick-smack left.” She refuses to use Eldon’s real name.

“I’ve been out.” I try to defend my actions.

“You’ve been to the grocery store,” Lena fires back. “He really is a good guy. Mav is… soft, quiet. Just write him a letter, mail it, don’t mail it. Do it for you. Connect with someone, True.”

“I’ll think about it, Lena.” Pacified, my friend heads home, and her words follow me into the night, leaving me tossing and turning in my stupid, lumpy bed. Creaking floors and walls make it nearly unbearable to stay still without screaming my head off with fright.

Connect with someone.

I can do that.

Chapter One

Maverick

Dear Maverick,

You don’t know me. I’m your cousin Lena’s best friend. Wow, it feels even more awkward and desperate reading it than hearing it out loud.

My name is True Sidero, I’m 21 years old, and a full-grown loser.

Okay, maybe that was a tad harsh, but Lena told me I didn’t have to mail this letter, so I’m allowed to be that way, right?

Connect to someone.

It’s what she told me, you know. Like I can’t connect to someone in my part of the world. I can. I just don’t want to.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this when I don’t intend to send it.

Gah!

This is so fucked up. My life is so fucked up. I should be planning my stupid wedding, not dishing my dirty laundry to some soldier half a world away. There should be flowers and dresses, and bridesmaids hating me because I’m making them wear ugly dresses while I get the super cute, white, off-the-shoulder one I spent over a year making!

All those ridiculous needle pricks, back aches, and lost hours of sleep, for nothing!

Men suck. Like really, really suck big, hairy donkey balls.

God, I sound like some bitter, old spinster cat lady.

Miserably, no one’s girl,

True

Looking around my bunker, I’m waiting to see if someone is gonna jump out laughing. When nothing happens, all I can think is, is this shit for real? Who the fuck writes this shit?

She’s not real. She can’t be.

Fucking, Lena.

That little shit is always up to something. She likely wrote this, thinking I’d be desperate enough to respond back or some fucked up shit.

Crumpling the crazy letter in my hand, I toss it in the trash on my way out to the ops tent. I got shit to do. I can’t be thinking about how much I could relate to this girl if she actually exists.