Sanders High School was almost halfway through the long semester before winter holidays. It happened to be a quiet October 6, which meant it was only one more sleep until Adeline James would receive another life changing letter. A letter written by her father who, according to Adeline’s mother, was dead…

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“Are you ready Adeline?” my mom Lyla yelled from the car window. Her soft, yet cheerful voice was engaging. I could tell she was curious as to whether or not I was prepared for my biology exam. “Sure am. I read my textbook cover to cover again last night,” I reluctantly replied, while scurrying away from her vintage Chevy. This strip of road happened to be my favorite. It was a classic San Francisco street covered with cascading trees, bringing in the exact amount of light to make everything twinkle. Today was especially beautiful with the fluttering leaves falling to the ground. I let out a huge sigh and nervously clenched a handful of my long wavy hair. The truth was I did study, but how could I concentrate when my mind was completely scattered? 

 

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of receiving the most unsettling news imaginable. News that consumed every aspect of my life over the past year. Everything became overshadowed by unanswered questions I had no way of uncovering. Moments that should have been blissful, remained a blur. I knew I had to stay patient, but it was taking its toll on me. 

 

The walk to school usually cleared my head so I could enter the front doors mindful and happy to be surrounded by my friends. Today turned out to be a different story after my mom insisted on driving me. The ride involved various questions I didn't care to answer. It was evident she was trying to make up for the fact I had not seen her much lately. My patience was being tested with anxiety that was on a whole new level and no one would understand.

 

My mom and I lived on the second floor of an older two bedroom apartment. It was conveniently situated just four blocks away from Sanders High School, one block away from my best friend Jax’s house and only 65 steps from our favorite Mexican restaurant. My mom and I used to eat there together at least once a week, but the joyful tradition was now a distant memory. Ever since she got engaged to be remarried, my time with her had become limited. Our relationship was slowly changing and neither one of us knew how to discuss what was happening. Naturally we both ignored the topic and everything was shifting to become somewhat awkward. I secretly loved the new independence of having more freedom as my mom spent nights away at her fiancé Keith’s house. At the same time, I desperately missed how our special life of just the two of us was now in the past.

 

As I walked down the hallway to my classroom I could see my tall slender body and dark brown hair staring back at me in the reflection of the trophy case. All I could think about was tomorrow’s date and the significance of October 7th. No one else knew, but last year I had received a letter on that specific date promising another one would arrive exactly one year later. The letter was written by my father. He was a man I barely remembered and a man who I was told was dead. I really didn't know if I had my own memories of him, or if they were all contrived from what I had seen in photos or heard from stories. When the first letter arrived, it was extremely unsettling. It left a lot of unknown questions and a big secret for anyone to have to keep. I remember the day vividly as though it stood still in time. It was a similar crisp October day. I was excited since I had just found out Jax would be staying with me at our apartment the following week. His already perfect house was being renovated yet again. 

 

Jax and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. I considered him family. We knew everything about one another. Absolutely everything! Well, except for the secret I had been keeping about my father. Jax was the guy you could not hate even when you wanted to. Everything about him was welcoming, jovial and endearing. This was surprising given his parents. They were the pretentious type who never thought anything was perfect enough, including their two sons. It was strange their offspring were the complete opposite. I admired Jax and his brother as they allowed everyone to be unapologetically themselves without judgment. Kindness was my favorite attribute and it was exactly what Jax and his brother conveyed. 

 

Their parents were constantly traveling the world. When they were back home in San Francisco, they were either working on a ‘big client deal’ or entertaining copious amounts of strangers who they were trying to impress. This meant Jax was more than happy to avoid his parents and spend most of his time staying at my place. I had a spare mattress we would slide out from under my bed for the nights he stayed over. Jax even had his own storage bin in my closet. It had a toothbrush, pajamas and a pair of slippers I pretended to hate. They had pictures of cats and pizza slices all over them and made absolutely no sense. I secretly loved how ridiculous they were, but I could tell Jax found it amusing how much I pretended to despise them. 

 

I remembered going to bed extremely ecstatic thinking of all the fun Jax and I would have before receiving my first letter. I had always assumed a person would forget the simple details before something dramatic happened in their life. My experience proved the complete opposite. Every element of that evening stuck in my brain even though I had absolutely no idea I would awake to a letter. It read:

 

Dear Adeline,

 

This is your father. Your mother and I agreed to tell you I was dead. I will be sending you a letter next year on this specific date, but only if you keep this a secret from everyone, especially your mother. You must never tell her about this. I won't be able to contact you again if you break this trust.

 

Do not worry about finding the letter. I will make sure it gets to you. 

 

I miss you more than words could ever explain and have so much to tell you about my world, but all of this will come with time. Please trust in me even though you have no reason to…

 

Love, Lionel James, Your Father

 

I found the letter on my pillow beside my head that morning. This meant I spent an entire year wondering if someone was playing a joke on me, or if my dad was in fact alive. More than anything, I felt frustrated that I had no control over the situation. Navigating problems was one of my most coveted strengths, so learning to deal with the unknown became extremely difficult. I spent hours upon hours searching online for details, but it was as if my father never existed. It seemed odd I couldn't track down his obituary or anything from the apparent accident that took his life.

 

Receiving the first letter made me feel like I missed a year of being a normal teenager. I spent all of my extra time questioning what was happening instead of being present in my life. I became jealous of my friends all having that luxury. Numerous questions would randomly pop into my head regarding my situation, but the one I thought about each and every day was, why? Why would my dad be contacting me now if he was alive? All I wanted to do was ask my mom, but I knew it was not an option. I was terrified to talk to anyone about my situation as I refused to risk the chance of not receiving another cryptic letter.

 

So as much as I wanted to enter my school like any other day, it was impossible with the sense of doom I felt in the pit of my stomach. I fully understood what the cause of my stress was and normally I could alleviate an unsettling feeling once I pinpointed the root cause, but not today. Not knowing if a second letter might arrive.