Tracing Hearts (2 page)

“Okay, class. Everyone take out the letters to your pen pals, and pass them up to the front,” Mrs. Kearney says. Everyone does as they’re told, but I hesitate. Did I spell everything correctly? Does it sound okay? Is he going to like it? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then, with a pounding heart, I pass it forward then exhale. Now, the waiting begins.

***

Several weeks go by, and I forget all about the letter. Then, one day, Mrs. Kearney pulls out a large manila envelope from her desk drawer. My eyes are wide with anticipation. Could it be?

“Remember those letters you wrote to your pen pals in Germany? Well, I just got this envelope in the mail yesterday.” She holds it up, and the classroom noises erupt. My classmates chatter excitedly at the prospect of getting a response. “When I call your name, please come forward and collect your letter…Chloe.” Chloe comes forward and takes her letter. “Sam,” she calls out, and he retrieves his. “David…Christine…Maggie.” One by one each of my classmates goes to the front and bounces back to their seat. I’m waiting on pins and needles for my name to be called. “Kelsey.” She struts up to the teacher’s desk.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kearney. I made sure to mention what a great teacher you are for giving us this opportunity.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, Kelsey. Please take your seat now.”

I see quite a few faces of disgust at Kelsey’s remark as I look around the room. She continues calling out names, until there are no more letters to hand out. I look at the cheerful faces of the kids around me as they read their mail, but when I look at my hands, they’re empty. I sigh as my eyes turn glassy. My letter must’ve sounded stupid. Mrs. Kearney walks over to my desk.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I didn’t see one with your name on it. Maybe he didn’t turn it in on time.”

I nod sadly.

“Yes. That must be it.” I try to put on a brave face, which works until I get home. I burst through the door to my house and the tears start. Mom is by my side in an instant. She leads me to the steps and wraps an arm around me as she sits next to me.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she says softly.

“Oh, Mom. The letters came from Germany today, and I didn’t get one. He didn’t write me back. Why didn’t he write back?” I sob into her chest as she runs her fingers through my hair.

“I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe he didn’t get it done in time to send it with the others. Maybe it’ll be in the next batch.”

I sniffle and wipe my tears with the back of my hand.

“What if he just didn’t
want
to write back?” I look up at her. “What if the thought of writing to a girl made him not want to turn it in?” My head falls back on her chest as I weep. She doesn’t say anything more. I don’t think she knows what to say. We sit like this for a while, but then she has to go back to making dinner, so I climb the stairs to my bedroom, where I sulk and cling to Chocolate Bunny.

I hear the phone ring, then soon hear Dad call my name.

“Julia? Megan’s on the phone for you.”

“Okay Daddy. I’ll be right down,” I say, then I sniffle. Feeling a little less sad, I walk downstairs. “Hello?” I say as I get to the phone.

“You’ll never guess what I heard,” she says, without so much as a greeting.

“What?”

“It’s gross,” she warns.

“Okay.”

“I overheard Cameron telling Matt that he felt bad that you didn’t get a letter back, so he was thinking of giving you his pen pal.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, but he was serious and being sort of nice about it. Weird huh?”

“Weird and gross.”

“I told you. So, what do you think is going on?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t want anything from him. He’s a jerk,” I say, because he really is.

“I know. He’s always picking on you, and that’s what makes it even weirder.”

“Well, you can tell Cameron, I don’t want his pen pal or anything else he wants to give me. I’m perfectly happy without a stupid pen pal. In fact, I’ll be the only one in class without the extra homework.” I gloat, but I don’t really feel the conviction of my words.

“That’s the spirit!” she says.

I change the subject and never reveal how upset I really am at not hearing back from my foreign traitor.

***

Days turn into weeks, and my wounded pride feels less painful. Everyone has written a second letter to Germany, but Mrs. Kearney has let me slide. I think she feels bad that I have no one to write to. Cameron has been oddly nice to me lately. He no longer makes fun of me and has gone so far as to stop his friends from doing it too. I still don't talk to him though—well, only when I have to.

“Hey, Julia. You want to be on my team for dodgeball today at recess?” Cameron asks, as he fidgets in front of me.

“Ugh. No, thanks. I’d rather not,” I say, probably more forcefully than I mean to.

“Fine. I was just asking, that’s all,” he says and walks away in a huff.

“What on earth has gotten into him?” Megan asks. She likes to eavesdrop.

“I have no idea.”

“I overheard Mrs. Kearney earlier today. She said another batch of letters came in from Germany. I also heard her say she’s going to find you something to do while she passes them out.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“She’s going to send you on some kind of errand, so you don't feel left out again.”

“Oh. Thanks for the warning.”

“That’s why I do what I do,” she says with pride.

“I’m going to start calling you Radar.” We both start to giggle.

“Julia?” Mrs. Kearney calls, as if on cue. “Will you please come up here?”

I smile knowingly at Megan and walk to the front of the classroom.

“Yes, Mrs. Kearney?”

“I wondered if you’d take these supplies to the teacher’s lounge for me, and tell Mr. Kramer I’ll need copies of these.” She hands me a stack of paperwork with a box on top. “Will you do that for me?” She smiles sweetly.

“Sure,” I agree, and take the pile from her.

“Take all the time you need,” she yells as I exit the room.

I could get used to this. I smile inwardly.

I listen to the sound of my shoes striking the cold tile floor as I trundle toward my destination. The hallway is quiet, other than the occasional outburst from a nearby classroom. I’m not even halfway to the lounge when I hear my name.

“Julia! Julia, stop! You got a letter!”

I stop and turn around. There, in the hallway, I see Mrs. Kearney chasing after me, waving an envelope above her head. She reaches me, breathless.

“It’s from Sebastian,” she pants while grinning.

“From Sebastian?” I repeat. I can’t believe it.

“Come back in the classroom. We’re all opening our letters.

In a daze, I walk with her, staring at the letter. When I reenter the room, Megan is grinning from ear to ear.

“You finally got a letter?” I nod excitedly. “Well, open it!”

I begin to carefully tear open the flap at the top of the sealed envelope, taking special care not to rip it apart. I look inside at the lined paper, pull it out then, start to read.

Dear Julia,

Hi. My name is Sebastian. Our teacher made us do this letter writing junk too. I’m sorry I didn’t get to write you back the first time. I just transferred to this school, and I guess my name was on the class list before I was actually here. Anyway. I know what you mean about not knowing what to say. I’m not into Barbie dolls and make up, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear about sling shots and video games. So…what…can…I…write…to…fill…a…page…?...Hmm… Well, I can tell you I live with my mom and dad on a military base. Oh yeah, don’t worry, I speak perfect English…well, as much as any twelve year old kid can. You see, I’m an American too. My dad is a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Army. He got stationed over here at an air base, so Mom, Chris, and I had to move. Chris is my annoying little brother. He’s eight. I also speak German pretty good. Want to hear some? Ich spreche Deutsch. That means, I speak German. They say Deutsch here instead of saying German. I don’t know why. Oh, and I like chocolate too. I’m trying to convince my parents to make it a food group, but I don’t think they will. To answer your questions, Germany is a lot like the United States. It has mountains, and trees, and depending on where you are, houses. They look fancier somehow, though. I don’t have any pets, although I used to have a dog. He died. We eat A LOT of potatoes here. But my mom also cooks us American food too. Lastly, I do celebrate Christmas and Easter, and I agree, both holidays are great! Now I have some questions.

1. What is your favorite color? Mine is blue.

2. What do you think is better: playing in the snow, or at the beach? I like both.

3. What’s your middle name?

Well, that’s all I can think of right now. I promise I’ll write every time I get a letter from you, from now on. Auf wiedersehen!

PS. That means goodbye, just in case you were wondering.

Sebastian Vaughn

Wow. He wrote about as much as I did. He doesn’t sound like the typical boys here in the US. He sort of sounds…nice.

“So, what does it say?” Megan urges.

“Nothing much. He mostly just answered my questions.”

“Can I see?” She reaches out to grab it, but I pull it away just before her hand makes contact.

“Not right now. I think I’ll read it again,” I say to defer her. I just don’t want anyone reading it. It feels like an invasion of privacy or something. I pretend to reread it then, neatly fold it, and place it back in the envelope, tucking the flap inside to secure the contents.

“All right class, please open your textbooks to page 406.”

***

When I get home, I practically bounce inside the house. Mom notices immediately.

“What on earth happened to you today, to make you so happy?”

“Sebastian wrote me back!” I exclaim.

“That’s wonderful, honey. I’m very happy for you. What did he say?”

I sum up Sebastian’s words for my mom.

“And he said he has a little brother named Chris.”

Her eyes light up as if she remembered something important.

“Speaking of siblings, I was going to wait until Daddy was home, but…” she pauses to keep me guessing. “Your baby brother or sister is coming tomorrow.”

My mouth drops open, and I squeal with delight. Jumping up and down, I hop over to her, and gently hug her and her belly.

“I’m so excited!” I say. “When will I get to meet him or her?”

“Well, Daddy will bring you to the hospital sometime tomorrow evening. When you get home from school, you’ll have to go over to Kelsey’s house for a few hours.”

My shoulders slump.

“Why Kelsey’s?” I whine. “Why can’t I go over Megan’s?”

“Julia, we’ve talked about this before. Kelsey lives across the street and rides the same bus. No one will be at our house to open the door for you, so the only place to go will be Kelsey’s. I know you two don’t always see eye to eye, but it’s only until Daddy gets back. You can manage that, can’t you?”

I roll my eyes. I hate Kelsey. All she ever does is talk about how great she is at everything. She likes to show off. I sigh loudly.

“I guess so,” I pout.

***

After dinner, I’m excited to write back to Sebastian, so I clean up my plate, and scurry off to my room. I want to respond to his letter while I’m in a good mood.

Dear Sebastian…

Sebastian

I walk casually up to Mr. Schulz’s desk and take my letter from America out of his hand. As I walk back, I inspect the envelope and chuckle. She drew stars all over it. I’m surprised that the post office delivered it that way. I guess I’ll have to make my next envelope a little more interesting. As I carry it back to my desk, I notice it smells like a girl. I wonder if she sprayed it with some sort of girly perfume. I hope Peter doesn’t notice, or I’ll have to hear about it all week long. The teacher says something in German, which I only understand half of, but I watch as the other kids tear into their letters, so I follow.

Dear Sebastian,

Thank you for writing me back! I was very happy to hear from you. I have some exciting news! My mom is having her baby tomorrow!!!! (I put extra exclamation points in there to show how happy I am to finally meet my brother or sister.) If it’s a boy, his name will be Andrew. If it’s a girl, her name will be Victoria. I don’t really like either name, but I don’t have to write it for the rest of my life, so, I guess it’s not really my problem. Maybe I’ll come up with a cleaver nickname. Now, to answer your questions:

-My favorite color is pink, but not baby pink, more like dark pink. (I’m not a girly girl. I love climbing trees and digging in the dirt.)

-I love the snow and the sand. (And since you didn’t commit to either one, neither will I.)

-My middle name is Rose. I noticed you didn’t answer that one. What is your middle name?

What do you do for fun? I like to draw, and paint. My mom says I’m great at it, but I think she might just be saying that. I also like to play outside. My dad built me a treehouse in the backyard. It has a tire swing underneath. It’s really cool. Maybe I’ll draw you a picture of it. Do you have any friends over in Germany? I don’t know how to speak Deutsch. Hey! I guess I know one word! I’m running out of things to say. Wish me luck tomorrow while my mom and dad go to the hospital. (I have to go over Kelsey’s house. I really don’t like her much.)

Your friend,

Julia Rose Bessette

I smile at the letter as if she can see me. I’m really glad she’s not girly. I can’t stand those girls who whine when they break a nail. She seems…nice. I’m not sure that word is the right one, but it’s kind of what I mean to say. Julia Rose Bessette. That’s a nice enough name. I’m not sure I know her well enough yet to reveal my middle name though. I’ve always hated it.