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Pete adjusted his tie nervously, passing through the entrance of Oakley Park. Sweat was making his shirt stick to his body, despite the cool early spring air. He could feel his heart pounding, and his mind was racing.
This is it. After all these months, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
During the first week of his senior year of high school, Pete had discovered a folded piece of lined paper tucked into the bottom slot of his locker. The author had expressed admiration and infatuation toward him, but they left no name. It was simply signed by “Your Secret Admirer”.
Every Friday since then, Pete had been finding notes of the same nature in the same spot, each one saying something different the anonymous writer liked about him. They admired his intelligence, his studious nature, his passion for the things he was interested in, his smart fashion sense, his smile—among countless other things. The prose wasn’t flowery and poetic; rather, it was plain and straightforward, while not lacking warmth.
Pete began to look forward to finding the paper and the kind words written on it. They made him feel… well, admired. Like maybe not all of his classmates thought of him as a square, or a wet rag, or a nerd. Like maybe he was cool. To some people, anyway. Pete had begun to reciprocate the mystery writer’s feelings to some degree. He didn’t know them, but the way their letters made him feel was indescribable. He’d never felt this way about anything, or anyone for that matter.
Only Pete and his closest friends, Ruth and Richie, knew about these mysterious messages. Ruth was adamant he find out the identity of the admirer, while Richie worried that this was all leading up to some awful practical joke.
Pete tried to ignore both of them. To Ruth, he said that the person would come forward when and if they wanted to. However, she wasn’t alone in wanting to know who was leaving these notes. Pete spent many a sleepless night wondering who could possibly be behind the words that brightened his day whenever he read them. Who at Hatchetfield High liked him this much, while still hiding who they were? And why were they hiding in the first place? Ruth had all kinds of outlandish theories, but Pete’s best guess was that they were embarrassed that they liked a nerd like him.
Richie’s concern was a bigger point of anxiety. Pete was the favourite target of Max Jägerman, star of the football team and the biggest bully in Hatchetfield. There was a not-so-small chance that this was all a trick orchestrated by Max in order to humiliate Pete. While physical violence was the quarterback’s speciality, he was no stranger to cruel jokes either.
This fear reared its ugly head earlier in the day, when Pete opened his weekly letter. The note read as follows:
Dear Pete,
I’m not going to hide myself from you anymore. I want you more than anything, and I’m done keeping that a secret. I know you want to know who I am. If you do too, meet me at Oakley Park today at 6. You don’t have to promise anything more than that. I’ll be waiting for you under the biggest tree.
- Your Secret Admirer
Ruth and Richie had fought fiercely over whether Pete should go to the park or not. Ruth argued that it would be good for all of them to discover the admirer’s identity, and “it was about time one of us got some action”. (Pete had scolded her for this, but he felt his face heat up anyway.) Richie countered that what Ruth wanted to happen wasn’t going to happen, and this was instead the final step in Jägerman’s scheme before everything came crashing down.
In the end, Pete made the decision for himself. He was going to show up.
Now, though, he was starting to regret his choice.
What if Richie was right? What if I’m about to get completely humiliated? I’ll get laughed out of school. I’ll have to transfer to Sycamore! Or, worse, I’ll have to move to fucking Clivesdale! I’ll have to start a while new life, without my friends, just because I dared to think someone would have the guts to be sweet on me.
Pete forced himself out of his frantic thoughts. On the off-chance this wasn’t a sick joke, he didn’t want his anxiety to make him miss out on properly meeting the person whose words had captured his heart. So he refocused his attention on his surroundings. There were plenty of people going about their business, but one caught his eye. There was someone sitting on a picnic blanket in the shade of a large tree. The largest tree in the park, in fact.
That must be them. Pete made his way over to the figure. As he got closer, he realised he recognised this person.
Oh, no, it’s not her. It can’t be her. This has to be a coincidence.
Or she’s here to deliver my humiliation. But there’s nobody else with her. What would be the point in embarrassing me if no one from school can see it? Unless they’re all hiding somewhere nearby?
“Hey, Spankoffski.”
Stephanie Lauter looked up at him, as cool as ever. The mayor’s daughter was Pete’s classmate, though they’d rarely spoken. She mostly ran with the greasers and beatniks at school, but she was friendly with Max and the other popular kids.
“Hello, Stephanie,” Pete greeted her politely.
“Call me Steph.”
“Oh, okay. Steph.” There was an awkward pause. “I, uh, I’m sorry, are you…? Are you, uh, here for any particular reason? Or are you just, uh, here by yourself? Enjoying the sun? It’s real pretty out today. Glad winter’s finally over.”
Great going, Spankoffski. You don’t need her to embarrass you—you can do that all by yourself.
“Yeah, it’s nice. Actually, I’m waiting for someone.”
“Oh, uh, yeah?”
“Yep.” She popped the p. “You wanna have a seat?”
“Wait, aren’t you waiting for someone?”
“Yeah. Sit down anyway.”
Pete could think of no other course of action than to obey. Steph leaned against the tree.
“See, there’s this guy I like, but I didn’t know if he liked me. And, well, you know the people I hang out with.”
Pete nodded. He knew them a little too well.
“They’d hate it if they found out I had a crush on someone that was ‘below me’. So I started writing ballads for him and leaving them in his locker.”
“Ballads?”
“Love letters,” she clarified.
“I’ve never heard anyone call them that.”
“People say it!” Steph’s tone was playfully defensive, and they both laughed.
“Wait, so… you’ve been writing love letters to someone?”
“Yeah. Well, they’re not, like, dramatic love confessions. I just tell him the things I notice about him that I think are cute. Like how smart he is, and how I think he has a pretty smile.”
“That’s… quite the coincidence.” He laughed nervously. “I-I actually get notes like that all the time.”
“Is it a coincidence?” She smirked at him, making Pete’s heart skip a beat.
“Well, unless you’re the one who’s been leaving them. But-But that’s ridiculous, right?”
“Is it? Why?”
Pete felt himself sweating again. “Well, you’re-you’re Stephanie Lauter. You’re-Well, you’re beautiful, you’re cool, people like you. You’re unreal, Steph. Why would you bother with a nerd?”
“Haven’t all my notes explained that for me?”
“So it is you? You… You’re the one who’s been writing those letters?”
“Now ya got it.”
Pete gawked at her for a few moments, trying to wrap his head around this.
Stephanie Lauter—Steph—is my secret admirer? She’s the one who’s been leaving those notes? That can’t be right. It simply makes no sense. It’s too good to be true. There’s only one logical explanation for this.
“Okay, Max, you can come out now. Get it over with.”
Steph glanced around. “What?”
“I know he’s here somewhere. That’s why you did this, isn’t it? So all the popular kids can jump out and laugh at me?”
She looked bewildered. “No? Pete, I wouldn’t do that. I really do have a crush on you. No tricks, no nothing.” A twinge of sadness shone in her eyes.
Guilt gathered in Pete’s stomach, making him nauseous. “God, Steph, I’m so sorry. I promise, I-I don’t think that little of you. I just… you know, I’m so used to… well, Max.”
“I know. I get that.”
A heavy silence fell between the two of them. Pete felt terrible for assuming the worst of Steph. She didn’t deserve that at all. She had been nothing but kind to him. He never should have made such a presumptuous prediction. Any chance he had was surely ruined by now.
“You don’t have to like me back or anything,” Steph finally said. “But you deserved to know.”
Then again, maybe not.
“Are you crazy? Steph, I-how could I not like you?”
“I know, I know, I’m pretty and rich and popular.”
“That’s not why. I… I was head over heels for you before I knew who you were. Nobody’s… Nobody’s made me feel the way you do, with your letters. Even though I didn’t know it was you.”
Slowly, carefully, Steph took Pete’s hand, sending a warm shiver through his entire body. Nobody had touched him with so much gentle affection before. Pete felt tears gathering in his eyes. Steph reached up with her free hand, wiping them away.
“Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay.”
“Thank you. God, I’m so sorry I—”
Steph cut him off by pressing her lips against his, pulling him in by his shirt. Pete let out a small gasp but didn’t hesitate to return the kiss. His arms went around her, lightly tracing his fingerprints on her back. Steph hummed in approval.
She pulled back after an indeterminate amount of time. “No more apologising, okay? I’m not mad at you.”
“Okay.”
“You hungry?” Steph reached over and placed a picnic basket beside them. Has that been here this whole time?
“Did you… make a whole picnic?”
“Yeah. It was Stacy’s idea. She said it’d be romantic.”
“It is. It really is. So… Is… Is this a date, then?”
“Do you want it to be?”
Pete nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I really do.”
“Cool. Then it’s a date.”