#* stellos

The overwhelming stench of fresh lacquer filled the halls of the academy, a breeze sweeping the scent of spring cleaning throughout from the open windows. A buzz of students hummed in the classrooms and the eager chirping of birds enveloped the courtyard as dust and leaves were swept from the cemented pathway.

Each class had been assigned to different parts of the campus, and it looked like Junior Class B had the gym, along with the locker rooms. Somehow, Stellos was surprised to realize that the areas inhabited by the students were the most messy--he’d prefer to clean animal waste out in the garden than pick up after his fellow classmates. He supposed that being in charge of clearing out the lockers was a much easier job than washing the floors or the bathrooms, though.

So there he was, after nearly forty minutes of unlocking the locks, clearing the trash, wiping down the walls, drying out the spray, and replacing the locks, he came across a lock that he couldn’t open. His sea green eyes blinked in curiosity as he searched for the key that matched the serial number, but couldn’t find it. Maybe asking the gym teachers later was a good idea.

At the end of the day, he’d spent nearly two and a half hours on the 990 lockers and still had the single unopened one stuck in his mind. He thought that after seeing the inside of hundreds of metal boxes that looked exactly the same save for what kind of waste was left inside each one, he’d have just left it be for someone else to find, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something important must have been inside of that one locker.

“Is there a problem, M. Rider? You’ve been staring at that wall of lockers for quite a while now, and I think it’s time for you to take a break.”

He hadn’t even realized that he walked all the way back to where it was until the teacher called him out, but he took it as an opportunity. “Madame, is there a key for this locker somewhere?” he asked, gesturing to the number with a quirk of his brow.

“Number 371? Ah... I don’t believe so. The student who was using it transferred last semester and forgot to return it. We’ve tried to reach him, but it seems a new address wasn’t put on file.”

“Hmm...” Stellos’s eyes fell on the number once again and he put his hands into his pockets, pursing his lips. “You didn’t just cut the lock off and replace it?”

“Well, we were planning on it, but I guess I forgot to tell the janitor. Hold on.”

Ten minutes passed and the greasy, grimy janitor that no one seemed to know the name of appeared in the locker room, bolt cutter in hand. He used it to chomp off the lock and was off on his way before even receiving a word of thanks from the teacher as she went off to find a replacement lock in her office. But the anticipation had eaten away at the raven-haired boy for just too long and he’d grown impatient. His fingers twitched as they made their way to the handle on the door, and he opened the small metal compartment, gasping in surprise at the barrage of papers and envelopes that fell against his chest and onto the floor. He didn’t know why the urge struck him, but as soon as the teacher called his name to come get the lock, he frantically hid the contents of the locker into his bag and rushed over. “C-Coming!”

“Uwah, I ended up taking these all home without even thinking!”

An exhausted sigh escaped him as he sat down on the rolling chair by his desk, feet propped up on the edge of his bed as he hugged his bag to his chest. He really didn’t think sometimes, but that was just how he was, he guessed. He thought about what could possibly be in the contents of each paper, each envelope. Of course he imagined they’d end up being old homework assignments and report cards that the former owner of the locker had hidden away from his parents, but he also held onto the hope that his effort and wonder didn’t go to waste, and that maybe something really interesting would be inside!

He wondered why his cheeks hurt so suddenly until he realized he’d been grinning like an idiot for who knew how long. He shook his head and forced a serious expression as he leaned forward and unzipped his bag. If he was going to do this, he had to before he lost the drive and just tossed them out.

Somehow, I feel like a pervert...

His face contorted with mild disgust as he shook his head again and dumped the papers onto his desk, making sure to pick up anything that had slid off onto the floor. After sorting everything out into piles of loose papers, empty envelopes, and unopened enveloped, it was obvious that this person had a pen pal of some sort. But why would he keep the letters in the gym lockers? And why would he leave them when he transferred?

Scanning the dates on the opened letters, he could tell that they had been consistently exchanged every few days for a good three months before the last few weeks of the previous semester. He scanned the contents of each one, and even though they were left unsigned, he could tell it was a girl who had written them. One that had gotten quite close to this guy, too. The letters were about nothing at first, but they started to increase in length with each progressing writing. It was hard to follow the conversation only having one side of it, but he could get the gist that these two were really starting to like each other.

October 18th, XXXX

                                                  [...]

     That’s quite the story! I’m afraid I’ve never been to the zoo, so I can’t relate to the experience very well.

October 22nd, XXXX

                                                  [...]

     You would be okay with that? Of course I’d be happy to! But please don’t call it a date--my father would never approve!

It was obvious that she was laughing while she wrote the letters--he could hear it in the tone of her writing. He imagined what kind of person she was, smiling as she wrote, alone in her room.

December 24th, XXXX

     Merry Christmas! Well, almost. I left a gift along with this one, so please accept it! It’s not much, but I made it all on my own. It looks a little lopsided, though... You know, I heard that at this time of year, if the sky is clear enough, then you can see a beautiful array of stars at night! Have you ever wondered why the sky is such a romantic topic? I don't really get it, but the stars sure are pretty!

                                                  [...]

December 29th, XXXX

     Hey there! I haven’t gotten a reply from you since the 23rd, so I was just checking to make sure that you're alright. It's fine if you don't feel like talking--I heard about what happened at school the other day, so I can understand if you need time to yourself. I'm sorry for bothering you like this if that's the case.

In his mind, he wondered what could have possibly happened, but it seemed that that was all of the letters that had been opened and read. He glanced at the unopened envelopes and inwardly grimaced when he found that there were no markings on the outsides at all. Somehow, he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to open them, but his hands moved on their own, plucking them up one by one and opening each one. If he was going to read through them all, then he was going to do it in order.

January 3rd, XXXX

     I hope you’re doing fine. I just wanted to check in on you. You’ve been coming to school, haven’t you? I heard about your mother, too, but like my family always says, ‘if you can live through one tragedy, you can live through anything’! It’s a weird mantra, I know, but...

                                                  [...]

January 7th, XXXX ...

                                   January 12th, XXXX ...

                                                                      February 9th, XXXX ...

Each letter from then on went back to the casual tone from before, but he could tell from how the topic of each one was drastically different that she wasn’t getting any responses from her pen pal. He just couldn’t understand why she was still writing to this guy. Couldn’t she tell that he was ignoring her at that point? Or that he had transferred already?

With the last letter lain flat on the table, he took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Glancing the date, he noticed that the date was from Valentine’s Day--just two days ago. He strained to see the words as his eyes began to sting from the realization that he’d been sitting there for hours now. As he rubbed his eyes, he turned on the lamp in his room as the last remnants of daylight began to leave his room, and he leaned forward to read the final letter.

February 14th, XXXX

     I know it’s a little too hopeful of me to think that you would write back to me. I should have stopped while I was ahead, right? By now, I’m sure the rumors are true. They say you’re long gone and that I should give up, so this will be my last letter, and the last time I check this locker for a response. Since you’ve left all of the letters here since that day, I’ll assume you want nothing to do with me anymore. Thank you for your time--I’ve felt a lot less lonely since the day we first spoke, but it seems that all good dreams come to an end.

     I just hope you’re not alone, too. That stuffed toy I made for you for Christmas--I hope you still keep it with you so that you don’t have to go through things on your own anymore.

                                                  With heavy heart for the last time,                                                                                 Evelyn Castaneda

Darkness had fallen and he wasn’t sure if the blurred stains on the parchment were from her tears as she wrote the letter, or his as he read it. It was the first time he’d seen her name in the letters, but it seemed to suit her very well.

He didn’t know what drove him to do what he did next, but he flipped his bag inside out, pencils clattering against the hardwood, scattering his papers and notebooks all over the floor as he searched hopefully for one more letter. One more piece of this woman that he didn’t know anything about, or this person she seemed to love so much that she couldn’t let go after two months of one-sided writing. He didn’t know anything about her but how she felt, and it was so clear through the way she wrote.

With baited breath, he overturned every piece of paper, flipped through every page of his messy notebooks, only to find that there was nothing else. His shoulders hunched and he felt a strange emptiness deep inside his chest. He knew. He knew she hadn’t been writing to him at all, but he couldn’t help but ache for her. The corners of his lips twitched and tugged downward as he eyed a piece of paper absently and thought about how heartbroken she must have been. It was almost robotic, how he reached down to pick up a pen from the mess he’d made and cleared off his desk of just enough space for a sheet of paper. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he sure as the stars in that beautiful night sky wasn’t going to let this girl be alone.

He felt tense waiting in the locker room every chance he got. He knew that she would have to have gone there at some point during the school day. Even if she said that would be the last letter, that didn’t mean she’d stop checking the locker, right? With how much determination she had to keep writing the letters after the responses stopped coming, she had to at least still be a little hopeful.

After each class, Stellos returned to the locker room, watching 371 from afar so as not to look too obvious. He did that for three days, until he decided that maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was the one being a little too hopeful.

He let out a sigh and shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he hung his head in defeat. A heavy feeling filled his chest as he turned to leave the locker room, but just as he was about to walk out the door, he saw a girl walk in. Her hair was a vibrant brown and her eyes were radiant as the summer sky. He followed her with his eyes as he stopped by the door. She passed the first row of lockers, then the second, until she finally turned into the third. The click of the lock was audible from where he stood, and he made his way back toward the lockers in astonishment.

“They... changed the lock,” he said, a little too suddenly by the looks of how the girl jumped.

“I-- Why would they do that...?”

The boy shined a smile as he looked at the locker. “Spring cleaning. I was in charge of the lockers, and this one didn’t seem to have a key. Since the owner transferred, we assumed he never returned it.” The pain on the girl’s face was obvious for anyone to see, but she held the key close to her chest and dropped her gaze for a brief moment. “Where did you find that?”

“It’s mine. I-- He gave it to me. It’s... a copy.” She didn’t give him much time to respond before she cut in again. “Where did everything go? The letters--what was inside of it. What happened... to...”

He almost couldn’t take it, the look she had on her face, how she couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “Your... eyes...”

“... Pardon?”

“You, uh... You asked what made the sky such a romantic topic, and then went on about how the stars were so pretty. But that’s just it--the sky is so vast and so mysterious that its beauty knows no bounds. Like... your eyes...”

“You... You read my--!” She was looking at him now--straight at him, and her gaze was piercing. So much so that he had to resist the urge to look away.

“I did. All of them, and I’m so sorry that I invaded your privacy like that, but...” His fingers clenched inside his pockets, and the crinkle of crushed paper could be heard as he pulled out a wrinkled envelope and held it out to her. “I-I may not be the best writer, but I hope you’ll--!” He shut his eyes from the strange nerves that decided to fester right at that moment. “Uh... Please accept this! I just... I don’t want such a wonderful young woman like yourself to be lonely! You... You said it was less lonely when you... wrote to him, so...”

He didn’t open his eyes, because he felt like if he did, he’d regret it immediately. She was fuming and he knew it. Or... at least he thought she was until he felt her take the envelope from his hand. It was gentle, and when he finally opened his eyes, he was surprised to see a smile on her face. “Thank you very much... Um... My name is--”