He was trying to write someone else but ended up in my inbox instead.
Of course, I answered to let him know I was not, in fact, who he was looking to contact. Then he wrote me back, again and again. He doesn’t know who I am, but I sure know him. He’s the star captain of our university’s hockey team and soon to go pro.
Just for that, I should stop answering him.
Because I’m just the mousy, slightly nerdy girl who sat next to him in Shakespeare class last year.
Because he has no idea who I am.
Because I might just have a giant crush on him.
Because there is no place on earth where I fit into his world. Not even a little.
Because I just couldn’t stop writing. Now, he wants to know who I am. I sure won’t ever tell him who it is behind the keyboard—even if he owns my heart. I puck you not…
