To Kaimana, the boy that smells like the ocean—
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I want to start at the beginning. Not at the beginning of us, but the way beginning.
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The first day of school was for us both. I came from the plain city of Ferndale, which most people haven't heard of. You came from a different state, Hawaii, from O'ahu. I remember we arrived at school in the same office at the exact same time, yet the day went completely different for both of us.
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On the first day at exactly 8:03, you were swarmed by everyone in the halls. Students, even teachers, who were desperate to meet you. You wore a bright blue Hawaiian shirt with a silver backpack, but what stood out the most was your smile. Your toothy smile that caught everyone's glance whenever they walked past you. And if they came closer, they'd smell the sea, with a whiff of coconut. I know this because I once came too close to your face. About four inches to your lips.
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But before that, we were strangers who shared the same English class and were five seats apart from each other. That was all. You made more friends on the first day of 11th grade than I ever had in my lifetime. I stumbled over someone's backpack and somehow ended up in the wrong building for my last period. You made the coldhearted secretary laugh with one of your corny jokes. I had a full-blown panic attack in one of the bathroom stalls.
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During lunch I sat on one of the benches, watching you like a creeper. I watched you fiddle nervously with your gold chain necklace. I watched as you checked the time on your digital watch every thirty seconds. Then I wondered what you were thinking. Were you thinking of surfing back at home with your other Hawaiian friends? Reminiscing about the familiar sun on your olive-brown skin? Were you upset that you had to move so far from home?
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What was your story?
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Suddenly, I took out my mini sketchbook and pencil case. Then I drew your portrait, right there on that little sticky bench. I copied your face exactly — the stiffness of your jaws, your furrowed eyebrows, and your vanished smile.
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Kaimana, I would ask you to forgive me for making such a pathetic move just then, but then we might've never met.
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I approached you and handed you the drawing when you were standing alone. I'm still not sure why I did that. I tried to convince myself that it was because I would've thrown the useless drawing away otherwise, but if I'm being honest with you, I think it's because I wanted to attract your attention. I wanted to befriend this beautiful boy from Hawaii who smelled like my mother's sunscreen. Maybe I liked you then, and I knew this twisted feeling in my stomach would never leave if I didn't hand you that drawing.
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To my relief, you didn't think I was creepy at all. Your expression was more of an embarrassed confusion."You drew that?" Your face flushed and you never turned to look at me. Still, I saw it. I saw that smile tugging at your lips.
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And it was gorgeous.
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Kaimana, I know you aren't fond of reading anything except for movie subtitles, which is one thing we disagree on. I'll fast forward to our favorite parts.
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It'd be around the twelfth chapter, as our phase of friendship lasted too long. But this, this chapter, would be the beginning of us.
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It started when you gave me a bouquet of roses on the day of Valentine's. I didn't know it was you at first, but I hoped it was. When I stepped into the classroom eight minutes before class, I saw the roses. Then I saw you and another boy sitting in the fifth seat in the front row. Gavin.
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Why would Gavin, the boy who always had his nose in a book, give me flowers? Of course it had to be you.
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That was the day I fell in love with you.
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No, I'm joking. I fell in love with you three weeks before that.
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If I had to list every single thing I love about you, it'd be an entire book. A book that'd be longer than the entire Bible written twice. And to this day I wonder, what did I do to deserve the boy who looks like he's from the ocean and had his first steps on the sand?
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It's been three years since we met, and two weeks since you went abroad for your placement year. I hate how time passes by so quickly because I miss you so much. But I love you, and I hope you know I'm so proud of you. If it means you'd be working towards your dream, I can sacrifice a few hugs. Even if you're five thousand miles away.
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I'll be waiting for you when you come back. I can picture us at the beach with you holding my hand, clutching a surfboard in your other arm. I'd lie on the sand for a few minutes, letting the sun soak into my skin. You'd pull me up and ask if you could teach me to surf. You'd teach me to be unafraid of the waves. And it'd be just the two of us. Just a plain girl from a small town and a beautiful boy from the beach.
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You probably fell asleep in the middle of this letter on that old, off-white couch in your apartment. Not because this letter bores you, but because you have such a short attention span. You know I know you, Kai. But I hope this made you laugh or smile. I want to see it when we call tonight. I want to see it right through that little screen.
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Yours,
J.
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