Tracing Hearts

TRACING HEARTS

Kate Squires

That Kiss

That Promise

I Will Catch You

First and foremost, thank you, God, for yet another great story to share with the world. I could never do this without you.

To my friends and family who support me daily, I thank you as well. Steve, what can I say that hasn’t been said? You’re amazing. You help make my stories realistic, and for that I’m grateful. Ashlee and Toni, thanks for busting me on the mistakes that were painfully obvious to me after you caught them. My betas are next. Hayley, Kylee, Toni, Jodie, Jody, Steve, and Tammy, I love you for being honest and helping me see what the story needed and didn’t need. Thanks for your dedication and willingness to read my books in the raw.

Alex, thanks for teaching me the game of Chess. You’re the best! <3 Ylva, thank you for knowing, and teaching me German. I’m glad I didn’t have to use the internet. Thelma, I love you more…enough said. A big thank you to Amygdala Design for the beautiful book cover you created! I’m sure I’ll be calling upon you again. Lucinda, you’re a goddess! Thank you for fitting me in on such short notice. To my street team, Kate’s Krusaders: Well, let’s just say I’m so grateful I have you to share ideas with, and I thank you for every tag and share you do on my behalf.

Len, as usual, thanks for putting up with me and helping me when I get stuck. I know seeing only my back for hours at a time can be quite an isolating feeling. I love you. ;)

I have one last
thank you
. Who could it be? This one goes out to my real life pen pal. Thanks for the decades of memories, and all the ten page letters that mysteriously got lost in the mail. I hope you think back fondly on our time as friends, I know I always will.

Tracing Hearts

Kate Squires

Julia

I’m sobbing uncontrollably. “I. Love. You.” I inhale sharply in between each word. My arms squeeze him a little tighter, knowing it’s the last time they ever will. I’m trying to commit the feel of his body to my memory. I don’t want to let him go, but know I must. It’s with great difficulty that I finally release him. Then, taking his hand in mine, I trace a small heart into his palm, and close his fingers around it. I need him to know he’ll hold my heart forever. I then turn abruptly and walk away, knowing if I look back, I won’t be able to leave…

Julia

Twelve years earlier

“All right, class. Today we’ll be doing an experiment in writing,” Mrs. Kearney says as she holds out a stack of papers. The boy next to me sighs loudly and lets his head fall dramatically onto the top of his desk. “Mr. Butler, that will be quite enough of your outbursts,” she says as she plops down a small stack of paperwork next to him. “Take one and pass it down, please.” He looks dismayed as he grabs the stack, but he does as he’s told. I take my papers and pass the rest, skimming through the words as I do. “Now class, this year in sixth grade, I’ve decided to have you write to someone your own age from a different country. You are to adhere to proper letter writing skills, which we learned last quarter. Be polite, ask questions, tell them something about yourself. I would like at least one side of one page filled.”

“Ugh!” Cameron Butler says, exasperated.

Mrs. Kearney shoots Cameron a look that could surely kill someone, and his face suddenly turns repentant, at least until she turns her back. Kelsey’s hand goes up, and Mrs. Kearney gives her permission to speak.

“What country are we writing to?”

“Good question, Kelsey.” Kelsey smiles smugly. “We’ll be writing to children in Germany.” She pulls down a spring loaded map, which is usually hidden at the top of the wall, and points to the small country.

She continues to talk, but I’m not really listening. I stare down at the papers in front of me. I wonder who I’ll get. I wonder what her name will be. Will she know how to read English? Will she write back? In English? My mind conjures images of what such a foreign place might look like.

“Julia?” the teachers says. I immediately sit up straight and look at her. “Pay attention. Please.” She smiles, and I nod.

She goes on to tell us all about some suggested topics, but my mind continues to wander. Maybe I can exchange pictures with her? It’ll be fun to find out if she likes the same music as me. All manner of thoughts race through my brain. The only thing that halts them is Mrs. Kearney passing out the names of our would-be new friends from a foreign land. I’m excited to see the name of the girl I’ll be writing to. She hands me a folded piece of paper, then she winks and smiles at me. My returning grin is wide.

“No trading names. You get who you get. On the count of three, you may look at your pen pal’s name. One…two…three!”

The class is abuzz with mumbles and giggles as my classmates view the names of their letter mates. Most of the girls are excited about who they got. Most of the boys don’t seem to care or even want to do this. I look at my paper, still folded on my desk.

“Who’d you get, Julia?” Megan asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t looked.”

“Well, open it up already. I got a girl named Frida,” she says.

“I got Silvia,” says the girl two seats over. “Who’d
you
get?”

“She hasn’t looked yet,” Megan replies for me.

“Well, look and tell us,” the girl chimes in again.

“Okay. Here it goes,” I say, smiling and slowly unfolding the paper.

Sebastian

“Sebastian,” I mutter, almost too quietly to hear.

“Sebastian? What kind of name is that for a girl?”

“No, dummy. That’s a boy’s name. Julia got a boy,” Megan corrects her.

I slump into my chair. A boy? Really? There must be a mistake.

“Mrs. Kearney?” I raise my hand but don’t wait to be called on. “I think you gave me the wrong piece of paper. Mine has a boy’s name on it.” I walk up to her desk, and show her the name to inspect.

“No. You’ve got the right paper.”

“But, I thought I’d get a girl. All of my friends got girls.”

“I understand you may be disappointed, but there weren’t enough girls’ names to go around, so one of you had to get a boy.”

I bow my head, sadness filling me. I was looking forward to writing and making friends with another girl.

“What on earth do I say to a boy, Mrs. Kearney?”

“Just start out talking about the things around you. Getting started is the hardest part. You might find that once you do, it gets easier.” She pats my shoulder and motions for me to go back to my desk. I return to my seat, defeated. This just went from a fun project to homework. I sigh.

***

When I walk through the door to my house, I’m met with the wagging tail of my dog, Charlie. I sit in the middle of the foyer, then giggle when he knocks me backwards, onto my butt, and washes my face thoroughly.

“Charlie,” I giggle heartily. “Let me up, boy.” I struggle to escape his affection but manage to get to my feet.

“Hi. How was school, honey?” Mom asks her usual question.

“Fine.” I say as usual. “We got a letter writing assignment today. We have to write to another child from Germany.”

Her eyes light up.

“Really? That sounds like fun. What’s your pen pal’s name?”

I sigh. “Sebastian.”

“A boy?”

“Yes,” I say in a monotone voice.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re too happy about that.”

“I was, but that’s when I thought I’d be writing to a girl. Girls like writing, boys don’t. I’ll be lucky to get one letter back.”

“Now, now, Julia,” she gently scolds. “Don’t generalize. Not all girls like to write, and not all boys hate to. Give this boy a chance. He might surprise you,” she says.

“Okay, Mom,” I say, still pouting, as I head up to my bedroom.

I belly flop onto my full sized bed, which is covered in a pink and green patchwork quilt. The plethora of overstuffed, throw pillows fall forward, as the bed moves under my weight, and Chocolate Bunny leans to the right, almost tipping completely over. I reach over and straighten him out then roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, contemplating my predicament. What could I possibly have in common with a boy from Germany? I can’t talk about the latest movies. He probably likes stuff like superheroes and GI Joe, which are just…yuck. Our taste in music, most likely, is opposite too. Make up and fashion are out, not that I’m into either one, but I could be, then it would be a problem. I decide to get started on it, just to get it over with. Inside the front drawer of my small white desk, I pull out a blank sheet of paper and begin.

Dear Sebastian,

I don’t exactly know what to write to a boy, so forgive me if this sounds stupid.

There. That’s a start.

My name is Julia. I am a sixth grader at Huntington Middle School. That’s in America. But, of course you know that already. See? I’m no good at this. Anyway, how are you? What’s Germany like? Does it snow there? It snows here. Well, not all over America, but where I live, it does. I hope you can read this. I’m writing slowly so you can understand it better. I have a dog named Charlie. Do you have any pets? Oh boy, it’s harder than you think, trying to fill up the front side of a piece of paper. My teacher’s name is Mrs. Kearney. She’s nice, though she’s making us do this, so maybe my first thought about her was wrong. Just kidding she really is nice.

“Julia! Dinner’s ready!” Mom calls out.

I look up at my clock and note I’ve been up here for almost twenty minutes. It’s not so bad if you write whatever comes into your mind.

“Coming Mom!” I respond. I fold the letter once, put it back in my drawer, and hop down the steps. “It smells good Mom. What is it?”

“Spaghetti.” My tongue wets my lips in anticipation. “You seem brighter. What gives?”

“I started writing my letter to Sebastian. Mrs. Kearney was right; starting is the hardest part.” I walk toward the table where Dad is sitting with his newspaper.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was school?” I fill him in, after hugging him fondly.

“That sounds exciting,” he says. I shrug, noncommittally.

I sit in my spot, between them both, and devour my supper. It doesn’t take long before my face is coated with splashes of tomato sauce, as I’ve slurped in every noodle separately. I wipe my mouth with a napkin and pick up my plate.

Dinner was delicious, and I watch as Dad helps Mom load the dishwasher. He wraps his arms around her big, round belly and kisses her cheek. Then, he says something, which I can’t hear, to the baby inside of her, and kisses it too. I giggle, thinking it’s silly to kiss someone’s belly. Mom and Dad say I’ll be a big sister soon. I rinse my plate, like Mom taught me, and run back up to my room. I want to get started on the letter again, since I just thought of another thing to say.

I’m going to be a big sister soon. My mom’s belly is huge. It looks like she swallowed a basketball, or a watermelon. I had spaghetti for dinner. What kinds of food do you eat in Germany? Do you have chocolate? Chocolate is my favorite thing in the world. Well, aside from my chocolate bunny. He’s not really made of chocolate, by the way. He’s just brown and he looks like an Easter bunny you’d get in your Easter basket. That’s why I named him that. Maybe you don’t celebrate Easter. Or Christmas. You’re missing out if you don’t. Those are great holidays. Well, I don’t have much more to say until you write me back, which I hope is soon, so I’m going to stop now. It was nice writing to you!

Your friend,

Julia Bessette

There, it’s done, and I surprised myself by filling up both sides of the paper. I refold the letter, stuff it into my backpack, and smile. I hope the letter I receive from him isn’t just a bunch of stuff about Legos and plastic army guys.

***

The next day at school, everyone’s talking about the stuff they wrote to their pen pals. Kelsey brags about the special stationary her mother gave her for the occasion. I roll my eyes. She’s always bragging about something.

“So, what did you write about to…what’s his name again?” Megan asks.

“Sebastian. His name’s Sebastian. And, I just wrote what I was thinking about at the time”

“Like what? Baby stuff?” Cameron chimes in. He’s making faces at me, sticking out his tongue. It’s making me mad.

“Go away, Cameron!” Megan says. “Julia likes lots of cool stuff. But, neither of us like you!” she says, and sticks her tongue out.