The Eighteenth Letter

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Dear Jake,

I want to stop writing to you, but I can't. It's become some type of a habit for me. Weird, right? Anyways, Harrison and I went to Starbucks. He paid for my drink, and I blushed....then we sat down, talking about school. He asked me why I hit you, and I didn't give him an answer. Then he asked why I don't talk to people often. I didn't give him an answer for that question either. Then we just sat in silence. #awkward, right? Anyways, here's the best part. When we said goodbye, and he dropped me off at my house, he kissed my cheek. Pretty sweet. His kisses might never be as good as yours, because from observing I can see you have some talent, but at least I'll have my first kiss. Even though it isn't from you.

Forever and Ever,

Kennedy

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