And I’m actually here through New Year’s! Savannah isn’t until January. Sorry, I realize calling it a Chanukah trip was slightly misleading, haha. But yeah, Chanukah’s actually over. B and I celebrated when I was in NY after Thanksgiving (he did the menorah prayer in Hebrew, it was so freaking cute). But we’re driving down on January 4th so we can do Late Ass Chanukah with his dad, stepmom, Caleb, and various elderly relatives, including Grandpa Greenfeld (who Bram describes as Bernie Sanders meets Eugene Levy, so I’m predicting only excellence).
Okay, so FYI, we’re officially confirmed for January 18th for my Top Secret Mission. Right now, the plan is to get him over to Garrett’s parents’ house after dinner, and we’ll have all you guys waiting in the basement. I’m still working on getting a final head count. Nick’s already going to be back in Boston (BOOO) and Alice is doing that January winter session thing. But so far, it’s me, you and Abby, Garrett, a bunch of the other soccer guys, and obviously Nora. And then we’ve got Bram’s cousin Starr and her boyfriend (they’re the ones who wore their school uniforms to Netherworld last year, remember? And you asked them which anime they were cosplaying? ICONIC). Anyway, Bram’s cousin SJ on the Greenfeld side is also coming, and we’re just waiting for confirmation from SJ’s boyfriend. So we’re probably looking at around fifteen people or so?
SO, YES, IT’S ALL HAPPENING. Now I just have to keep it a secret from my favorite boy for a month. “G-money” better not blow my cover (I’m still not over it, Leah. Do you think he tells everyone at Tech to call him that? Do you think he tells them that WE call him that?). Also, I’m pretty sure Taylor knows exactly who G-money is, and was just trolling like the legend she is.
Anyway, I’ll see you SOON. Come hang with me and Bieber this weekend or something!!
FROM: BLUEGREEN118@GMAIL.COM
TO: HOURTOHOUR.NOTETONOTE@GMAIL.COM
DATE: DEC 31 AT 11:52 PM
SUBJECT: LAST EMAIL OF THE YEAR
Dear Jacques,
You’re holding my hand while I write this, which has to be the biggest advantage of being a lefty, and also the best possible reason for one-handed typing. And that’s it. That’s the email.
Love,
Blue
FROM: HOURTOHOUR.NOTETONOTE@GMAIL.COM
TO: BLUEGREEN118@GMAIL.COM
DATE: JAN 1 AT 12:05 AM
SUBJECT: FIRST EMAIL OF THE YEAR
Hello, beautiful boy, you are really something else. You just typed that whole email with one damn hand, didn’t you, after three glasses of champagne. And not a comma out of place. Not a single freaking error in your whole entire email. Except the part where you say holding hands is the best reason to type one-handed. (Second best, Bram, don’t you think? ☺)
Anyway, Drunk Bram, let’s go watch the fireworks (and by watch, I mean let’s MAKE some fireworks, wink wink wink).
FROM: LEAHONTHEOFFBEAT@GMAIL.COM
TO: SIMONIRVINSPIER@GMAIL.COM
DATE: JAN 8 AT 9:36 AM
SUBJECT: RE: HI FROM MACON!!!
So you’re telling me his dad thinks you’re back in Atlanta, his mom thinks you’re still in Savannah—and you’re actually in a hotel room in Macon?? Um. Wow??? Talk about some top-notch divorce-kid trickery. Your boyfriend? Is diabolically romantic. Simon, are we sure he’s a Ravenclaw? Because that’s straight out of the Slytherin playbook. He is the king of surprises, and I’m forced to stan.
Well, Spier, I hope it was absolutely perfect (and I absolutely don’t need the details). Can’t say I’m surprised about the hotel bumping you to double beds (Georgia’s gonna Georgia). But who knows, maybe the front desk took one look at you two and said, nope, these two clearly can’t handle the amount of personal space provided by a king bed. Who even wants a king bed?? That’s like a long-distance relationship in furniture form.
Anyway, yup! Got back Sunday, classes started yesterday, and it’s full steam ahead here. But it’s honestly good to be back to the normal routine. Look, I love my mom to the end of the fucking earth, and I’m officially on board with Wells. But if I’m going to have to live with a bunch of blissed-out lovesick dorks, at least one of them better be named Abby Suso.
Okay, hopping on the shuttle now, but keep me posted on party plans. You’re going to have to step up your surprise game big-time, Simon Spier, and you know it.
Love,
Leah
P.S. Nope. Don’t listen to any of them. Those weren’t tears. They were seasonal allergies that powerfully, randomly resurfaced on New Year’s. It’s a thing.
FROM: SIMONIRVINSPIER@GMAIL.COM
TO: THE.ORIGINAL.ANGEL.BRO@GMAIL.COM, ABBYSUSO710@GMAIL.COM, LEAHONTHEOFFBEAT@GMAIL.COM
DATE: JAN 16 AT 8:14 PM
SUBJECT: TOP SECRET
NEW STEPPED-UP GAME PLAN FOR FRIDAY, EVERYONE. We’re officially scrapping Garrett’s house in favor of . . . you guessed it . . . Operation Ferris Wheel!!
Okay! Here’s the info:
Festival doors open at 6:00 p.m. (remember, Perimeter parking lot, Nordstrom side—you’ll see it). So I’m thinking you guys could get there by 6:30 or so, just to be safe? But you don’t technically have to be in position until 7:00. Leah, I gave Starr and SJ your number so you can find each other there. Garrett, you’re in charge of looping in the soccer guys. And then the only other people we’re expecting are Nora and Cal (as friends, FYI, they’re NOT back together, and Nora is specifically requesting for us to not “make it weird”).
So that means fourteen confirmed (not counting me and Bram). Luke the ride operator is the MVP, and he’s been prepped, so he knows we need seven adjacent cars. But just in case, maybe someone wants to run through the plan with him one more time when you get there?
I’ll shoot to have Bram in the ticket line by 7:00, and hopefully at the Ferris wheel by 7:15.
So Luke will let you guys off the ride one car at a time, and—this is so important—the first two people need to act SURPRISED to see us in line. Bram should think we just
