" He watches me eat for a moment. “Let me see it again.”
“No.”
“Okay.” He pulls a can of carbonated water out of his backpack and pops the lid.
Sometimes I want to punch him. I find the letter and slide it across the table.
He reads it again. It makes me feel all jittery inside.
His eyes flick up. “She likes you.”
I shrug and steal his drink. It tastes like someone drowned an orange in a bottle of Perrier, and I cough.
Rev smiles. “You like her.”
“How can you drink this crap?”
His smile widens. “Is it making you crazy that she won’t reveal herself?”
“Seriously, Rev, do you have any regular water?”
He’s no fool. “What do you want to do?”
I take a long breath and blow it out. I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”
“You know.”
“I want to stake out the grave. This waiting between letters is killing me.”
“Suggest email.”
“She doesn’t want to tell me anything more than her age. She’s not going to give me her email address.”
“Maybe not her real email. But you could set up a private account and give her the address. See if she writes you.”
It’s so simple it’s brilliant. I hate that I didn’t think of it. “Rev, I could kiss you.”
“Brush your teeth first.” He reclaims his bizarre can of water. "
― Brigid Kemmerer , Letters to the Lost (Letters to the Lost, #1)