I felt an overwhelming happiness for having carried out what I had planned.
Most of all, I was happy because I had finally spoken to him… and because he had seen my face. The fact that he gave me his book without hesitation made my heart flutter even more.
After closing the kiosk and returning home, I went to bed—but sleep would not come easily. Just thinking about returning the book the next day, with my letter hidden inside, made my heart race. I tossed and turned until midnight, unable to calm my excitement.
The next morning, I overslept.
Startled, I hurriedly got dressed and rushed to school. But throughout the day, I couldn't focus on my lessons at all. My mind was filled only with one thing—my letter.
What should I write?
I scribbled countless drafts on scrap paper.
"Hello, my love… my handsome boy…"
No, no—that was far too direct. I crossed it out.
"Hi, my name is Gerlee. What's your name? Can we get to know each other?"
No… what if he doesn't reply? I erased it again.
Over and over, I wrote and erased, until finally I decided to keep it simple. Just a few questions.
"If he's interested," I thought, "he'll come and answer them."
Carefully, I tore a clean sheet from the middle of my notebook and wrote:
"Hello. Who do you like? And why?"
In the bottom corner, I added softly:
"From the girl who watches you…"
I folded the letter neatly and taped it gently onto the first page of his geography book.
All that was left was to wait for evening.
I could hardly contain my anticipation. I even switched shifts with my older sister so I could sit at the kiosk and deliver the book myself.
Night fell.
My heart trembled with excitement.
Locking the kiosk for a moment, I walked with quiet determination toward Entrance 3 of Apartment No. 6. As I stepped inside and reached the first floor, I paused in front of his door, took a deep breath, and rang the bell.
The door opened—and it was his younger sibling.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"I… I came to return your brother's book," I replied.
"Okay, I'll call him," he said and went inside.
I stood there, my heart pounding wildly. I tried my best to look as nice as I could, even in that moment of nervousness.
Then suddenly—the door opened again.
It was him.
He glanced at me briefly.
"Oh… it's you," he said.
"I brought your book," I replied.
"Oh, okay. Are you done using it?"
"Yes… thank you," I said softly.
He took the book from my hands.
"It's fine," he said—and then, just like that, he closed the door.
For a moment, I stood there, feeling something strange… a small, unfamiliar emptiness. But even so, I was happy. I had spoken to him again, even if only for a short time.
I left the building and walked back toward the kiosk, a quiet smile appearing on my face again and again.
In my heart, I believed completely—
that he would respond to my letter.
And with that hopeful thought, I fell asleep, dreaming only of him.