A couple of days later, and I had basically gotten over the letter. Slowly but surely, Sam was returning to the recesses of my mind, her essence being smothered by schoolwork and stresses.    

It was delightful. And excruciating. 

I was back to making eyes at Ms. Anderson, flirting with Lisa in between periods, knocking on Jason and his crowd of women. No qualms, no echoes of laughter.

Silence.

Something felt missing though, like a puzzle piece had been yanked out of everyone's life, but no one but me had seemed to notice.

Audrey and Alex— her supposed best friend and boyfriend— had started dating, barely acknowledging her absence.

There was an acute lack of swishing skirts in the morning, hair as wild as hell curling around the hallway; no one cared.

The Queen had left, and her subjects didn't gossip about her departure when it should have caused quite a stir.

    I was clearly missing a piece of the puzzle. And, as much as I might have yearned to forget about Sam, I was intent on finding out what it was.

<><><><>

    "Audrey, right?" I called out to a raven-haired girl during school. She smiled slowly, a flirting thing, as she took me in, her eyes raking against my body.

    I stiffened.

    "That would be me," she whispered, a voice like velvet.

    "I was wondering if you could help me with something," I asked, trying to lead into the question. She could scare easy.

    She took a few steps closer to me, vanilla perfume overpowering the air, "Anything," she breathed.

I held in the urge to roll my eyes.

"Do you know what happened to Samantha Avery?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. Nonchalant. Like I couldn't care less about this random girl.

    Audrey looked shocked, her mouth parting just the slightest bit, before she quickly recovered.

"N-no. One day she was here... and the next..." she frowned, but it looked plastic. Something in my heart wrenched— Sam had gone missing and her friends could only pretend to care?

"Oh, I thought that you would know. Since you guys were friends and all," I tried, really tried to keep accusations out of my voice.

But, Audrey still grimaced, "Not friends, Andrew. No one could be friends with Sam, she wouldn't let you."

"W-what do you mean?"

"She was a bitch. A bitch with no loyalties," her tone got softer as she continued, " I get it, you were her tutor, or whatever. You probably think she's the best thing since sliced bread. But, honey, she wasn't. And we're better off without her."

My heart pounded and I clenched my fist, staring at her, hard.

"You didn't know her." I said, my voice cracking.

"Correction: you didn't know her," she said, before turning on her heel and walking away.

<><><>

I walked into my house the next day, Audrey's words ringing. She didn't know Sam. She pretended like she did, but she didn't. She didn't she didn't she didn't she didn't.

She didn't know the girl who made a funeral for the bird with the broken wing, or cried because she had to kill a fly. She didn't know the girl who cackled at the Simpsons and could eat cereal for all hours of the day.

She just didn't know her.

I was so angry that I almost missed the letter lying on my kitchen table, scattered amongst the bills and necessities of mediocre living.

Hey old friend. Pal. Amigo.

    I need your help.

    I need to make people like me. Not out of fear, or out of envy. Just because of my wonderful personality.

    Where, my dear, is that wonderful personality?

    And, you are probably wondering, why must I be liked?

    Well, to put it simply, my aunt hates me. Loathes. Abhors.

    It's fun, really.

    Well, no. It's not. It's not fun to feel like an intruder. Like all of my steps are too loud, my smiles too wide, my laughs impinging on the quiet of their life.

    I'm juvenile, young, loud, and thrashing. I can't sit still. I get bored easily.

    And they never wanted children.

    As you can see Henry, we are a match made in fucking heaven.

    So, make them like me. You were always well-liked. Nerdy, but cool. Funny, but kind. Smart, but not a teacher's pet (but still liked by teachers. Wink wink.).

    So, please share your secrets. Your mysterious ways. But, remember, not all of us can just coast by on our big, green-eyed smiles.

Sincerely,

Your Secret Lover and Ex-Best Friend: Sam Avery

    I sighed, content. This girl, this was the girl I knew. Not a bitch, almost painfully insecure. Funny, sarcastic and sweet: this was Sam.

    Audrey didn't know Sam, she knew Samantha. And that made all the difference.

<><><>

"Are we seriously doing this?" 

"What?!" 

"This!" 

"Making out?" 

"I think so...."