Tears slid down the girl’s flushed cheeks as her slender fingers typed the words, I have a confession to make. I lied to you all this time. I’m really 65. I’m old enough to be your grandmother. She forced herself to write these words. She forced herself to give up all her hopes and dreams. She loved him, but did not know him. She had felt a connection with him unlike any other she ever experienced in her whole life, not at school, not at home, not anywhere, but she only knew him through a screen, through her computer screen.
The words appeared in a bubble in the chat room she was in. No! I don’t believe it. You have to be real treehugger108. You just have to be. The girl wiped the tears off her face before continuing typing.
It’s best this way wolfman19. It’s not as if we could have really been together anyways.
The girl stared at the screen waiting for him to respond, for the words that could only be that of her soul mate appear. He could be a predator ,she thought.
But what about all the emails? I know these words may seem meaningless, but I love you treehugger108, even if we’ve only known each other through words.
It took all of her will to close the laptop. It’s for what’s best, the girl thought. Lately, her parents had noticed how she had often been on her laptop, chatting for hours at a time. It worried them greatly and to be honest, she was a little scared too.
***
Offline, the words pierced into Tom’s heart like a spear. He grabbed his hair. Maybe she really was 65 years old. He thought. Maybe I really was a fool to believe that we had something special. Maybe all the letters meant nothing, just like all the conversations we had in the lounge. He stared at the screen blankly. I’ll probably never get to chat with her again or even get email replies. Justin was right when he told me there was no point in even talking to her; she was like a fictional character I created. We just fit so well together.
***
Stella:
5:00 AM, Stella’s digital clock read. She had been tossing and turning all night. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Stella forced her eyes shut. Must sleep now, mustn’t think of him, he’s not real. She lied to herself; it was the only way to keep her from crying.
One hour later, she was wide awake lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tears blurred her vision. It was my choice; I decided to stop talking to him forever. She ignored her alarm clock when it beeped at 6:30 AM, telling her to wake up and her mother when she came in the room at 6:45 AM screaming that she was going to be late if she didn’t get up this instance. Stella finally got out of bed when her mother threatened to put her artwork in the shredder if she didn’t wake up. She grabbed a shirt, jacket, and dark jeans.
***
Tom:
Tom woke up. He rubbed his eyes. Today was going to be some day, he thought to himself. It was 7:15, if he changed and took a quick shower he might be able to make it to school on time. He grabbed a shirt, pants, underwear, and a pair of socks from the clean pile of clothes in his room. He towel-dried his jet-black hair after his record speed shower. Then, hurriedly, he grabbed a bag of chips and drove off to school.
***
Stella:
First period. It was Stella’s least favorite class, homeroom. Lucky for her, it only happened a few times a week. She would have loved it but she didn’t have any friends to talk to. She held back the tears that threatened to fall, she used to think up interesting things to say to wolfman19 when she got home but it didn’t matter anymore. She’d never talk to wolfman19 again, her only friend was gone.
***
Tom:
First period had been a bore. Tom couldn’t concentrate. He was supposed to by trying to brainstorm a few article ideas before he met with the rest of the newspaper staff, but his mind kept wandering off. Last night. Tom thought, I really thought we might have had something. Justin, Tom’s best friend, kept giving him strange glances.
***
Stella:
Stella trudged slowly to her locker. She stared at her feet. She didn’t bother to pay attention to the conversation going on around her until someone said, “So treehugger108 turned out to be some old woman? Dude, that must of hurt.” Stella scanned the crowd. The voice had belonged to a boy, standing next to the newspaper editor. They were sophomores. She walked even slower now, wanting to hear every word. “Yeah, she was. I thought it might have been something special. We liked so many of the same things and she was different.” The boys slammed their locker doors. “I’ll tell you more at lunch.” The hallway was almost deserted now. Stella sped up her pace.
***
Tom:
I wondered if she was okay. The girl was petite. I was pretty sure she must have been a freshman. The contents of her backpack had slipped out when we ran into each other. I think I might have even stepped on her feet. Tom thought. He and Justin hurriedly helped pick up her books. She so looked frightened; she barely managed to stammer an apology. Poor girl. Tom thought. She scampered away, a sketchbook slipped out of her hands but she didn’t notice. Tom picked it up and was about to call out to her but she was gone. Great, he thought, now he’d have to stalk down a freshman.
“Tom,” Justin said, “we’re gonna be late, we have to go now, I already have two tallies in Mrs. Stressman’s class.”
***
Stella:
My head hurt and more importantly, I couldn’t find my sketchbook. I practically tore apart my backpack and locker at lunch looking for it. The newspaper editor guy must have it. That was embarrassing, I had drawn a wolf and written: inspired by wolfman19 on one of the pages. If he really was wolfman19, it’d be okay, but a guy like him would never fall for someone like me.
***
Tom:
I flipped through the sketchbook, looking for some sort of identification. It was filled with mostly pencil drawings, except for one. It was a picture of a wolf. It mesmerized me. Tom gently touched the signature at the bottom of the page. It was the only page with a signature, Stella Swanson. There was writing underneath it, “inspired by wolfman19”. Tom blinked a couple of times to check to see it he had read correctly.
***
Stella:
I didn’t see the newspaper editor guy in between periods. I needed that sketchbook, now.
***
Tom:
“Justin,” Tom whispered while Mr. Anderson wrote on the whiteboard. Tom pointed to the sketchbook, “she’s the one, treehugger108.”
Justin looked at him with disbelief. “What are you going to do?”
***
Stella:
The bell rang. Stella dashed out of the room and sprinted all the way to where the newspaper guy’s locker was. She needed that sketchbook. A whole school day without it had been bad enough, it would just about kill her if she couldn’t draw in it at all today.
***
Tom:
Stella, Stella Swanson was standing in front of my locker when I got there. “My sketchbook,” she said. Her voice was much more confident now.
Tom took the sketchbook out of his backpack. “I’m wolfman19,” he said. He had a sudden urge to throw his arms around her; around the girl he had felt such a unique connection with, even it was just through words.
***
Stella:
The words came out before I could even stop them. “Will you go to the Spring Dance with me?” Stella asked. She threw her arms around him without even thinking. It really had to be him. He was a writer.
“Yes,” Tom said, “yes.”
I really enjoyed reading this piece. I have read many romantic fiction stories, and nothing has been quite like this one! 
