Page 3 of Please Be Mine

Shelly,

You didn’t answer my question about the band bus. Until you do, I will not answer yours.

I actually never knew that story about you and my mom. I remember a few times my mom would leave me at the house to go help a friend, someone who was worried their kid was really sick or a grandparent in need of assistance. I’m assuming she told me it was something like that to give you your privacy. She was always that way. Always willing to hold people’s secrets and gain their trust, unlike the rest of the Cove that loves to gossip about anything they can get their hands on. They’re still vultures here, by the way. You can’t sit at Mulligan’s and sip on a cold one without eavesdropping on some kind of story. Is it technically still eavesdropping if someone is talking super loud?

I’m really sorry about Cory, what an idiot. Seriously. Screw him. Who gives up his chance to be with Shelly Carson? I can name at least 60 guys who had a crush on you at some point in our four years in band. They would happily beat him up. I’ll lead the charge.

Actually, I take that back. Besides Hernandez, I don’t really talk to anyone from band anymore. If I reached out to any of them, they would probably want details about why you and I are talking again. I’m not sure if you knew this, but a lot of them thought that we had a thing. Which feels weird to say now, almost a decade later.

It all started junior year with that night on the band bus, coming back from Boston after marching the Veteran’s Day parade. Do you remember that night at all? It’s okay if you don’t. You decided to sit with me on the way home, and we shared our favorite music as we drove the two hours back. The guys gave me a lot of shit after that night. They’d say stuff like “you can’t seal the deal” and all that. I let them hand it to me though, because I knew the reality of the situation. There was no way someone like Shelly Carson would go for me. Again…weird to say after a decade. A lot of time has passed. I hope it doesn’t freak you out.

I should probably stop before I dig a bigger hole. If you decide you’re done talking to me now, I get it.

Jake

january 8, 2025

Jake,

Kevin Costa. Senior year. That’s who I made out with on the band bus. We were grabbing our uniforms to change into for an awards ceremony. Happy?

And now I’m wondering if he was one of the ones who gave you shit.

Oh, Jake. I laughed reading your recollection of that night heading home from Boston, because of course I remember it. Mostly because of the music you recommended to me. The Black Keys. Arctic Monkeys. Death Cab for Cutie. Matt and Kim. Goo Goo Dolls. I’m a little frightened to ask what music I recommended to you, and if you still listen to it at all. I listen to yours all the time. I may or may not have a running playlist…

You’re not the only one who has thought about that night. Do you even remember what happened? Do you remember reaching for my hand and holding it? We each had an earbud in and you squeezed little pulses into my palm to the beat of whatever we were listening to. I was embarrassed because you sat there, talking with such enthusiasm about all of these artists that you loved, and all I could think about was how much I wanted you to kiss me.

You’re right. Weird to say after a decade. But somehow writing it in a letter makes it so much easier, so here I am, letting you know that you weren’t alone in your feelings.

But after that night, you sort of trailed away, and we fell back into our usual rhythm as Shelly and Jakey Jake. I figured the night was a fluke. That maybe you were only holding my hand as a friend. So I gave up on whatever those feelings were, and moved on.

Want to pass me the shovel so I can dig a hole too? Thanks.

Shelly

january 9, 2025

Shelly,

Wow. Is it possible after ten years to feel like such an idiot? I guess it is, because here I am, feeling like a complete and total imbecile. I still remember the way my heart was going to leap out of my throat when I reached for your hand. I was nervous it was going to backfire, but you stayed right there in your seat, smiling as you listened to me rattle on and on about music. You did squeeze some recommendations in, some that I also still listen to. Lorde, Vampire Weekend, Sara Bareilles. You might have snuck some Jonas Brothers in there as well.

I would have absolutely kissed you that night, but I got all in my head. I wondered if you felt obliged to be there. You had this way of being so nice to everyone around you, and I kind of thought you were also doing that with me. I figured I had no shot. I really wish time machines existed so I could go back and tell myself to stop being a coward and go for it.

But then, I guess if that’d happened, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to kiss Kevin Costa.

Kevin Costa. Really, Shelly? No, I’m not happy. But I guess I get it; he was the popular trumpet player who was also on the lacrosse team. He hung out with them way more than us, and he was tall and had biceps while the rest of us were trying to hide our pale, lanky arms.

Writing that now, I guess I can see why you kissed him. He was probably better at it than me. If I’d kissed you, you probably would have been disappointed. And I would have robbed Garrett, Mike, and Hernandez the opportunity of giving me shit. Of course it was them…who else? Those assholes gave me shit about everything. (Hernandez still does.) I miss those days. I miss you.

I could have probably used some of their heckling after graduation, because my love life has been pathetic. I sort of had a thing with Katy after taking her to prom senior year…we hung out a lot that summer before college. But then she flew off to Alabama and I was in Boston and we just stopped talking to each other. It was mutual, and I actually felt kind of relieved how easy it was to let that go.

Since then…well, no one. A few girls after late nights at the bar, some I don’t even remember taking home—collateral from my years in darkness. It always makes me feel sick when I think about it, how I used those girls to make myself feel better, and didn’t bother to follow up with them or anything. That was never the kind of man I wanted to be, and I’m trying my best to be a better man.

The kind of man who doesn’t let his fear or his doubt take the lead in his head.

The kind of man who would have kissed Shelly Carson when he had the opportunity.

Jake