Chapter 6 - Max

After receiving Maisie's letter yesterday, I finally opened it today, and I could see that she had been crying. God, even I felt like a total idiot for not asking her about her life. That second letter she wrote back was basically when she was placed in the care system; she calls it being dropped off at a local foster home, but she was basically in care with her sister.

I wrote my letter out, probably knowing that I wouldn't hear from her again, but I had to apologise for my lack of knowledge. Even if it meant nothing or did nothing, I had to try. So I did. I wrote a nice letter and even offered her to be a writing friend. That was it though I didn't want her thinking she was apart of my circle...Yet.

Dear Maisie,

I didn't mean what I said to you, and I didn't mean to make you cry. I saw the tears on your paper, and I felt bad. I guess I'm just trying to apologise. I have a way with words. You have been my pen pal for a long time now, and I am glad I have you as a friend too, hopefully. I'm sorry you've had such a crap time with everything lately, but I hope you can forgive me when I tell you that I do not have the time or the crayons to explain this to you, and if I have to use my last purple, then I won't be happy.

Did that make you smile at least, or did you fall into flour and smile without tasting the weirdness of it? no...okay. Anyway, I don't want to feel sorry for you because you take your asswholiness out on me, and I kind of find it fun when you do. It makes me want to do it back, just as bad as you. I know you love it! Don't deny it.

Anyway, congratulations on graduating fifth grade too too, and my birthday will be great. I'm sure of it, but I won't jinx anything just in case it's boring and I get poorly.

Maybe your friend, Max

I sent the letter to the mail box, and again, I waited for her reply. As an almost 11-year-old, I was just beginning to understand the meaning of relationships, Kind of. I don't love them, but I will be someone's boyfriend just to make them feel good and to have someone be with me every day. People probably call me a player, and maybe I am. Who cares? I had always been a popular boy in my class, and every girl always wanted to be my girlfriend. Every day, I would look forward to going to school just to see my friends. The girls were alright, but they weren't what I was looking for. Yeah, I'm bigging myself up at 10 years old, but I can't help myself; I'm just awesome.

I waited for nearly 2 weeks after sending my second letter to Maisie just to see if her response would come to my house. Every day after school, I checked the mail box only to find it full of letters addressed to my mom or my dad. You're an idiot. Of course, she won't write back to you. I kept flipping through the letters and only finding junk mail until I found her letter. I did my little happy dance in my head and went inside, acting normal. As normal as I could be anyway. I went upstairs and opened her letter, my heart hammering in my chest, and I figured it was through the excitement that I felt by opening the letter.

Dear max,

Thank you for your apology, but no, I don't accept it. If you want to be mean, then I'll be mean too. You're probably too insecure, so you write these mean things and then feel guilty because you secretly have no friends. Well, good, so you should feel guilty, and so you shouldn't have friends. But I don't feel guilty about writing something mean to you. I hope you stub your toe on the corner of your bed tonight and then it gets infected. And thank you for wishing me luck at my graduation. I suppose I hope you did well and enjoyed it. 7th grade, are you excited?

You're still an ass, so maybe I'll write to your brothers and see if they're any nicer instead. It might be a nice change of lettering if they're much nicer than you.

Anyway, thanks for your letter.

Maisie.

Now that we started this whole process of sending letters again like we did before, where it went back and forth between us, bickering about who got life better, pointless insults, and lectures from both ends about spelling or how we had worded things, it felt like we had just rekicked something and never really needed to emphasise the hatred we shared for each other. My biggest excitement is when Caden reads some of the letters she sent a bit ago, because he cringed at most of the things she wrote, but I also informed him of the ones I sent, which were just as mean back then, and that's how our hatred turned out. We were not exactly friends or haters, but we enjoyed insulting each other.

Dear Maisie,

I hate to break it to you, but I hope you get a huge hurricane over your side of the state and it blows you away. Wouldn't that be good? Yes, I'm using your words against you, but the way I put it is better. I don't know when you became so mean, but it really hurts my feelings.

Not really, but I just thought I would try to make you feel bad. Is it working yet? I guess it's time to tell you that your brain cells are not holding hands today, and your friends think you have a brain cell in your big toe.

Max: P.S. If you're going to write back, at least make it interesting. Your letters are so boring now, and I did well with my graduation. I didn't fall over once. did you? Did you fall to the floor? I bet you did.

Your friend and nemesis, Max

-

Dear maximus Do you hate that name? I think it suits you.

You really should have come with a warning label because I would have stayed well clear of your ego when you sent that first letter, which was complete gibberish, by the way. I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I guess I haven't achieved the unachievable just yet. However, my suspicions were right-you are as sharp as a rubber ball. Anyway, just before we broke up for the summer, my teacher told me I had excelled in most of my subjects and that I would be moving to a higher set for 7th grade. Have you ever excelled in anything, or is being annoying the best you got?

Maisie, P.S. If you don't write back to me, then I know that the candy man took you.

-

We are now in December, and I have just received another letter from her, and the more I get, the more I can't help but laugh. These letters continued for months once we got back into them again, and it made me smile. I eventually started enjoying her replies. Probably because I was able to anger someone and get a better response from them. It was a competition, and I wouldn't even know who won. She has had some pretty good comebacks. I just hope my mom doesn't get suspicious and then open one; she would have an absolute field day if she thought I was getting hate mail. Caden is always fascinated by the things we say, and I think it's because he was used to me insulting him, but now I have someone else, and she can't exactly play fair. Do women play fair anyway? My guess is a big, fat no.