Friday, 21st of March

Dear Manny,

Today I found photos of us at our grade six graduation. The night was truly one to remember.

You were wearing that black suit your father bought you and that ridiculous bow-tie your mother insisted on. You had your hair gelled back like one of those rich men, I giggled when I first saw you.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

At the start of the night your shirt was tucked in but by the end of it somehow, you'd managed to untuck your shirt from your pants.

Your hair became messy by nine o'clock because you couldn't stop running your fingers through it.

You were nervous, and it was adorable.

Your bow-tie had come undone by ten and it was only a matter of time that you'd probably take it off. I think it was a slight improvement, if I do say so myself.

You looked more like yourself by the end of the night than you did at the start.

You didn't want to be something you weren't, and I am proud of you for that.

I miss your crazy wardrobe.

Sincerely,

Alyson Summers.