Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
Dear
Haven,
I cannot tell you how happy I was to receive your second letter.
Well, no, I guess I probably could try to tell you how happy you made me, but in all honesty, there are not enough words in the English language or any language to express how I felt when I saw your letter finally come in.
You can’t tell anyone this. But I was waiting and waiting and waiting, hoping that you would give me another chance, and I’m not going to lie—at one point I thought maybe you had decided I wasn’t worth it.
But seriously, please don’t tell anyone, because I have already endured enough teasing from my parents and my brother, and even a little bit from my best friend, Reid.
Not that I’m embarrassed to be your friend. That’s not it at all. It’s just that the constant taunting from my little brother and my best friends is annoying. So annoying. That’s what it’s like, by the way, to have siblings. ANNOYING.
Okay, okay, it’s not ALL bad. Sebastian, my little brother, who is two years younger than me, and I are actually really close, and we get along fine, but I think it’s pretty natural for siblings to also intentionally drive each other crazy. Which Sebastian does. A lot.
Reid and Nolan, my two best friends, are also almost more like brothers to me. We’ve all known each other since we were born, and the four of us (Reid, Nolan, Sebastian, and me) spend pretty much all of our time together, outside of school at least, since Nolan and Sebastian are in different grades than Reid and I.
But other than that, we play together, do homework together, and even go on family trips together, since all of our parents are also best friends. And we all constantly give each other crap—I mean tease each other—about anything and everything. I guess it’s in the sibling job description.
Other than them, I have a much younger sister, Madeleine. She’s three and is literally the princess of our family. The princess of our town, if I’m being frank. She has my dad wrapped around her little finger.
Honestly, I think she has me wrapped around it as well. I am afraid of what she’ll be like when she gets older, though. I have this feeling she’s going to end up being a force of nature that none of us will be prepared to deal with.
So, now, you asked me a bunch of questions in your letter, and I’m going to answer them, but I’m expecting you to answer the same questions when you write me back, plus any other questions I decide to ask you. You have been warned.
My birthday is September 4th, so I turned twelve a little over two months ago. I am in the sixth grade at my school, which goes to eighth grade. I know, usually schools stop at fifth or sixth grade, and then students go to middle school, but we’re a pretty small town, so ours goes to eighth, and then we’re bussed out to the nearest high school.
My favorite color is white. Yes, I realize white isn’t really a color, but it is my favorite.
My favorite animal is a wolf. They are strong, protective, loyal, and beautiful creatures.
My favorite food is pizza. Any kind of pizza. Except pizza with mushrooms. I hate mushrooms.
And my favorite sport is football or basketball. I also enjoy running and uh… I guess you could call it boxing? I know it sounds violent and unsafe, but I promise, I’m trained by professionals, and they make sure we’re safe the entire time we’re working out and sparring.
I also enjoy playing video games with my friends, listening to music, and believe it or not, but I enjoy reading. I actually really enjoy school, too. Don’t tell Reid, though.
I’m pretty sure that addresses all the questions you asked me. I know you said you want to know “everything” but I don’t think I’d ever be able to tell you everything about myself in one letter. But I’m guessing, over time, we’ll eventually learn everything about each other? Assuming we stay in touch, I mean.
By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that in your last letter, you first referred to your foster parents as “Jack” and “Shirley”, but then later, in your P.S., you wrote “Mom.”
Okay, wow, now that I’m writing this, I realize it’s honestly none of my business what you call them. I just noticed and wanted to ask, but you can ignore me. You don’t have to answer that question. Forget I asked.
Last thing: I’m sending you my school picture as well. It’s only fair, since you sent me yours, that I send you mine and show you what an actual silly school photo looks like. Because yours, my friend, is not silly. Mine, however, is.
When you get this letter, it will probably be almost Thanksgiving, so, Happy Thanksgiving.
Wait, do you celebrate Thanksgiving? I’m sorry if you don’t. If you do, well then, uh… Happy Thanksgiving!
Your Friend,
Wesley Stone
HAVEN
I folded the letter from Wesley, stuck it back into the envelope, and placed it into my dance bag. Then, I organized the purple floral stationery paper Mom helped me pick out and put my reply letter into one of the coordinating envelopes.
I was so excited when she took me to the store and let me pick out special paper, envelopes, and pens to use for my letters to Wesley. She knew how much I loved using nice pens, so having my own full set of colorful pens that was just mine was so exciting.
I had been so overwhelmed by the options in the store. She ended up letting me choose a few unique patterns of paper since I had trouble deciding between them. She also bought me a pocket dictionary and thesaurus, so I wouldn’t have to lug around the giant ones from our house.
Then, she took me to the post office, and bought me an entire roll of stamps so I could mail my letters to him without having to ask them for permission or help. I would still tell them if I sent one, of course, but the fact they felt I was mature enough to do it on my own made me smile.
I leaned against the mirrored wall of the empty dance studio room, stretching my legs out in front of me and pointing my feet in my pink ballet shoes. My mom was still talking with Miss Rebekah, my dance teacher. I was not sure what they were discussing—they were too quiet for me to hear them—but their faces were serious. I just hoped I was not in trouble for anything.
I hated getting into trouble. I tried to always be on my best behavior. I hated disappointing people, and felt guilty when I made even the smallest of mistakes.
I searched my brain while they talked, trying to remember if I had done something wrong during my ballet class, but I couldn’t think of anything.
I stood up, and they turned their eyes on me. But I ignored them and walked to the center of the room, turning to face the mirror, my eyes examining my reflection.
One thing I loved most about ballet was how precise everything had to be. The uniformity of seeing everyone in a black leotard, pink tights, and pink ballet shoes, all moving together in unison—it fueled the perfectionist inside me.
I loved how perfectly Mom could pull my hair back into a bun, somehow able to tame my wild, wavy-curly hair into a sleek, clean hairstyle. I loved how focused I had to be during class, making sure my every movement was precise yet fluid, strong yet smooth.
I placed my feet into fifth position, my arms moving from low fifth to first position, before I began practicing my pirouettes. I stretched all the way through my leg to the tips of my toes in my tendu, used my plié
to help me turn instead of using my arms to whip me around, and made sure my foot connected to my supporting leg when I brought it up to passé
as I turned.
However, each time I attempted a pirouette, I fell out of my turn before I even made it around one time. Even though I grew more and more frustrated with each turn, I continued to try. I didn’t let my frustration show, however. I just kept practicing.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?