So, back to our regularly scheduled program.

I was walking down the hallway going to class, thinking to myself what a drag it is to have to wake up so early for schooling, when really my head would rather still be asleep, therefore, it won’t allow, or, it won’t remember what some lecturer was trying to tell me, and so coming to the conclusion that I might as well go to the cafeteria and get some coffee, see if Jim was there, and then sit back, relax, and listen to him, when all of a sudden, standing in the middle of the hallway were these three blonde girls. But they were Asian. Now I’m not talking streaked blonde, or highlights, or whatever it is you call them nowadays, but blonde blonde. I’m sure it was a dye job, but then again, they could be those anomalous Asians who were born blonde, but I highly doubt that. Anyway, they were just standing there right in the middle of the hallway. Everyone had to go around them but they didnt’ seem to care. They were in their own little world, talking about purses or make up or whatever blonde Asians talk about, when all of a sudden, one of them, the shortest, most voluptuous, most intriguing out of the bunch stared directly at me. And when she realized I realized she was staring at me, she continued to stare. Almost smiled. And I freaked out. I was walking closer and closer to them, having to make that decision to go around them, go through them, or stop and talk to them. Oh my! The anxiety was overwhelming. I couldn’t just turn around. My momentum was carrying me in their direction. There was no turning back. Even if I wanted to, to go to the cafeteria, find Jim, drink some coffee, smoke some cigarettes, learn more about the Ugly, I couldn’t because she saw me. just as I was at the point of having to make a choice, Corn bumped into me.

“Hey Xavier!” Corn said, smiling large.

“Sup Corn.” I said, relieved.”Wanna go to the cafeteria?”

“Sure.” He said trusting.

Thank God for Corn.

Because I want us to be friends, okay? Is that so wrong? It’s been something like a year and I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you everyday. Every hour. Every second. And honestly, I don’t know why. I just do. So I decided to write you letters like I used to hoping that we would reconnect. But this time, as friends. Like we should have done in the first place.

Now this is what I was trying to tell you before you cut me off. I was trying to apologize. I fucked up. And I’m sorry.

I should’ve understood. But, honestly, I was just scared. It was fun and it was nice. But we were young. And things were going pretty fast. Yeah, I know, I was the one who was pushing it, with all the boyfriend girlfriend talk, but, ya know, when it seemed like it might’ve happened, I got scared.

So I cut it off. I planned that fight. I knew how you felt. And I took advantage of that. I used it so you would start a fight with me. And so I wouldn’t be the one to blame for our “break up”.

But now a year has gone by. And you keep popping up in my mind no matter what I’m doing. I could be watching Jeopardy, and then you’d pop up in my head. I could be washing dishes, then you’d pop up in my mind. Regardless of what the fuck I would be doing, you’d pop up in my mind.

I thought it would go away. The thinking of you. The pain and the regret. The guilt. But it didn’t. Months went by and I still felt the same. Seriously, Kris, I didn’t know what to do.

So I did the only thing I could do. Write you letters. Just like I used to. And you know what? It helped a little.

Now I’m not suggesting you forgive me. I’m just letting you know I’ll be writing you letters more often. You can throw them out, burn them, show them to your friends and laugh at me, because I don’t care. I need you in my life somehow, for whatever reason, and if writing you letters is the closest I can come to that, then that’s what I’m going to do.

I don’t know why. I just have to do this.

And maybe, just maybe, somewhere down the line, you’ll be able to forgive me, and hopefully, luckily, if god is merciful, then we’ll become friends.

Apologetically,
Xavier

I went to my classes today. That’s all really. Didn’t see Jim. Didn’t really learn anything.

That’s why this letter is so short.

Love,
Xavier.

Jim didn’t show up to school today. So I sat outside the cafeteria all by myself watching people walk by. On their way to class, or to change a class, or to leave a class. School stuff, ya know. The reason I came to community college in the first place.

For the past couple of days, I’ve been hanging out with Jim, and in a weird way, I’ve been learning from him. So this doesn’t seem to be a waste to me, contrary to what you might be thinking. I think people are the best teachers, just regular, plain old, people. They’re experiences. And as long as they are honest with their story, then they can teach people what they have learned. And not on purpose. Just by talking to each other. And listening.

Yeah. I think I’ve learned a lot these past couple of days. Now I think I know what the Ugly Jim was talking about.

Ya know what? I’m gonna change that.

Sincerely,
Xavier

Didn’t go to class today. Just sat outside the cafeteria with Jim. Drinking coffee. Smoking cigarettes. Watching the people go by.

“See that guy.” Jim asked. Well, he didn’t really ask. He stated. “That guy right there is Ugly.”

I looked at him. Straight, brown hair. Chiseled jaw. Striking hazel eyes. He didn’t look ugly to me. “What do you mean?” I asked, as macho as I could.

“Ugly. Ya know. Ugly.” He said. Inhaled. Exhaled. Smoke.

I didn’t know what he meant. The dude looked to me like he could get girls. Your typical football playing, good grades getting, president of a school social club, kind of guy. “I don’t get it. It looks like chicks would dig him.” I said.

“That’s what I mean. Ugly.” Jim stated. “Ugly. He dresses himself up. That’s not really him though.”

“It’s not?” I asked.

“Nope.” Jim said.

“Hmmm…” Was all I could say.

“See, people like you and me, we’re not the Ugly. We dress how we are inside.” said Jim. “We dress like we’re supposed to.”

I looked at what I was wearing. An olive green over-sized t-shirt, baggy blue jeans, and old, worn out sneakers. I had to scratch my head. I had no idea what this guy was talking about.

“Ugly huh…” I nodded my head.

“You don’t get it.” Said Jim.

“Not really, man.” I said. “But that’s cool.”

“No, man, it ain’t cool.” He said, flicking his finished cigarette ten yards into the bushes. “It’s not cool at all.”

He got up, stretches, and turned his back to me, and stared at the brown haired guy he called Ugly. “That’s what’s wrong with the world today. People don’t know who they really are. They’re lying to themselves. They’re liars. They walk around, bumping into other people just like them, all talking, not knowing, and they keep it up for the rest of their lives. And then more and more of them think it’s okay. So they start doing that. And before you know, you look around, and everyone around you is part of the Ugly.”

The guy he called Ugly noticed Jim staring at him, unimpressed. The guy’s face was confused. Jim just glared. Glowered. Pierced. The guy quickly looked away, and with a hurried step, walked into a safe hallway.

“See what I mean.” Jim said sitting back down. “That was Ugly.”

I started understanding what he was talking about.

“Say, Jim.” I asked. “Can you drive me to get a pack of cigarettes?”

“I thought you didn’t really smoke.” Said Jim.

“Well, I feel like I should get my own pack. Seems like we’re gonna be doing this a lot.” I said.

He got up, walked down the hallway towards the parking lot, and I followed. Wondering. Thinking to myself. About the Ugly.

Wondering Things,
Xavier

Jim is like the Marlboro Man. A cigarette smoking, black coffee drinking, spit spitting, swagger of masculinity. Modern day cowboy. Ten gallon replaced with jet black, spiky hair, a stallion replaced with a Volkswagen Jetta. He speaks of people like cattle. And towns like ghosts. He looks at the horizon a lot. And then looks at the ground when he finally decides to walk.

We almost fought. Almost got into a fight. I was standing next to his cousin. A girl named Cherry. Very appropriate, which is why I was standing next to her. He moseyed into the conversation like he belonged. I didn’t like that much. So the stare down started. Cherry had to go to class, which just left me and Jim to see who was the better man.

“Hey. Xavier, right?” He said with eyes liek blades.

“Yup.” I said, unflinching.

“You drink coffee?” He asked, walking towards the cafeteria without my answer.

“Uh…” I stammered and followed him like metal to a magnet.

He pushed the cafeteria doors open likeit was a saloon. And just stood there. The occupants stopped whatthey were doing and stared. The Japanese girl sitting at a table by herself, reading a book of Shakespeare poetry. The two white guys playing video games in the corner. The kid who was asleep probably from an 8 o clock class woke up to see what powerful presence woke his ass up. The lunch lady slinging meatloaf and apple juice. The study group. The goth kid who probably wanted to blow the place up.

He let them take him in, mockingly, and then proceeded to the coffee counter. He handed me a styrofoam cup. I watched him fill his to the brim. “You want some cream and sugar? Makes it takes better.” He said, pointing to the counter with his nod.

I wallked over there confused as fuck. I’d never drank coffee in my life. Actually thought it tasted like shit. But this guy, this cowboy, for some reason, made me think I should really start drinking.

“You should put three creams four sugars, if it’s your first time.” He suggested, glaring at the lunch line. “Look at that. Bunch of sheep.”

I took four packets of sugar. Opened one at a time. poured the sugar into the cup. It looked like snow falling into mud. I took each one of the creamers, opened it and poured. That looked like sperm falling into mud. Nothing about this made drinking coffee apealing and yet I found myself about to drink it.

“Then you take that stirrer. Stir it twenty times to the left, and then wait, then stir it twenty timesto the right.” Jim instructed. “Makes it taste better.”

I did it. Took a sip. And you know what? It didn’t taste half bad. And you know what else? I got a quick shot of energy. Perhaps there’s something to this coffee drinking.

“Hey. Xavier, right?” Asked jim, headed for the saloon doors. “You smoke?”

I hadn’t. Not really. Bought a pack about a year ago, just to see what all the hub bub was about. My first puff nearly took out a lung. Finished the pack eventually. took me two months.

We walked outside, found a bench to sit on. And sat. Sipped coffee. Smoked cigarettes. Until it was time to go.

“Well, I’m heading home.” Said Jim standing up and walking towards the archway to the parking lot. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

He walked away, into the sunset. Disappeared into the horizon.

I looked down at my feet. A count of 17 cigarette butts, six lakes of spit, and an imprint of a lost day.

This college thing is beginning to get interesting.

I figured I might as well go back to school. Not to get one of those useless pieces of papers called “degrees”, but more because I wouldn’t want anyone to know more about me.That would be a definite insult to God. Ha!

Did you know that even if you dropped out of high school, like I did, you could still get into community college? Yeah. As long as you have money for the required units, you can get it. Money is all you need. Figures, right? Makes sense.

So I started school. Got the money playing video games at the college arcade. Seems that all the time I spent outside of high school in inside donut shops playing video games is finally paying off. These fools! They look at my baggy pants and baseball cap and immediately think I’m a No-Nothing. Good thing for me. I made five hundred dollars in a week. And all of it went to going back to school.

I’m taking Psychology, Philosophy, Anthropology, and some Astronomy class. I got the books already. Finished a couple of them. The Astronomy class I’ll probably drop because it doesn’t talk about the constellations. First thing I learned, there’s a difference between Astrology and Astronomy.

This’ll be good for me.

Sincerely,
Xavier “The Fox” De Los Santos

You broke my heart.

Now if I timed this right, you should be reading this letter right now. In front of me. After tow hours of convicing you it wouldn’t be embarrassing. We should be driving back to your house. We just finished some miniature golf. I should’ve won you some sort of stuffed animal. After all, I’m going to be the first Pilipino Los Angeles Laker. Adn that free throw game shouldn’t have been too hard for my world champion ass. Ha!

Right now I’m going to suggest that we park and talk before I take you home. Am I doing it? If not, I’ll wait. Just look at me and roll your eyes like you usually…that’s it! That’s the eye roll I’ve been waiting for!

Now I should be talking about how much fun you are and how you have really, in the short amount of time I’ve known you, helped me see things in a different light. How someone as stubborn as me has become so open. And that it’s all due to you reminding me that I don’t know everything. Am I doing it? Good.

Now, at this point, you should make a really sarcastic joke, just to avoid the sentimentality, the hopelessly romantic letter that you are currently reading, because you don’t want to look like you like the fact that I’m writing this and that you’re reading this, but somewhere deep down in that stone cold face of yours, you want to let out a smile. Are you smiling yet? you should…Ah! There it is! Am I right? Ha!

Okay. Serious time. We should be parked outside of your compound. I should be fidgeting because I’m nervous at what I’m about to do. you should be fidgeting, too, because I’m totally setting up something big. And you don’t like surprises, but hopefully, you’ll like this one.

Okay. Here I should be going. Did I give it to you yet? Let me know if I haven’t. Have I yet? Am I still fidgeting? Okay, if I haven’t given it you yet, tell me another oen of your utterly sarcastic…there it is!

It’s a ring. Do you like it? It’s silver. I’m not rich. And don’t worry, Sweety. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not even asking you to be my girlfriend all over again. I just wanted to give you thsi because I’ve had it for such a long time.

About two years ago, me and my friend Jack, my best friend Jack, my brother from another mother Jack, we were on this good samaritan kick. We would literally go out into the world and try to find good deeds to do for the world. We helped old ladies cross the street, we helped push stranded cars to the side of the road, we’d help lost kids at the mall find their parents, things like that. Well, on one of those days, we helped this older woman who ran out of gas, push her car to a gas station and with the last bit of money we had, gave it to her for fuel. She was so touched by the gesture that she gave me this silver ring. She told me it belonged to her son who had passed away three months earlier in a car accident. She said her son and me and Jack could’ve been good friends. It was pretty cool.

The ring fit perfectly on my pinky. It wasn’t too tight and it wasn’t too loose. It fit perfectly. I looked at it and thought this has to be some sort of sign from God. What kind of sign, I don’t know, I never know from that fella. But I knew it was something so I kept it in music box in my room promising myself that this ring would have to fit the woman who I was going to love for the rest of my life.

Can you try it on and see if it fits?

I already know the answer. It does. On your ring finger. On your left hand. How do I know? Because none of this is an accident. The older woman with the out of gas car, the bubbles, the night I spent at your house, the beach, the week without talking to you, the rain, and everything that has changed in my head because of everything that has lead up to this moment, none of it is chance. I know it for a fact.

But don’t worry. to reiterate, i’m not asking you to marry me or to be my girlfriend or even see me exclusively. I promised myself I’d give that ring to the woman who I would love for the rest of my life. I know that is you.

The ring fits, doesn’t it? Of course it does. Otherwise I’d be walking you to your door, ashamed, embarrassed, and distraught.

But I’m not am I? I’m sitting there across from you grinning like an idiot, watching you squirm uncofortably at this gesture of ultimate cuteness.

That’s all really. I just wanted to give you this ring. Honestly, it’s more for me than it is for you. It’s to remind me what kind of luck I have beign in your life. What you do with the ring is totally up to you. What i’m doing with that ring is showing you how much I care.

Okay. Enough. Now it’s time to take you home. your parents should be wondering if you’re okay.

May I walk you to your door?

Totally Awesomely,
Xavier De Los Santos

Did you get the teddy bear? Yeah, I thought it was the ultimate in cuteness, too! Ha! Kidding… Just don’t tell the guys. A teddy bear, a rose, and a heart shaped card don’t really impress those villains. I named him Ryan Blackjack Dumas the VIII. What do you think?

Hopefully it was you and not your parents or brothers who got the mail. That’s be embarrassing.

See you tomorow!

Excitedly,
Xavier De Los Santos