"THE PACKAGE IS HERE." Not exactly the words a man wishes to hear, or read, first thing in the morning. But that cold, shivery Sunday morning of late February, those words managed to bring some happiness into me.

I was still tucked under my bedsheets when the screen lit up, disturbing the vampiresque comfort of the room's darkness. I fought the annoyance and grabbed the phone, then started typing: "Okay, first, don't be that excited. I told you it's nothing too special. And second, don't you dare open it now. Wait for me to have breakfast. And we'll meet on Skype."

I uncovered myself from the sheets and went to open the window to get some air into the room, but found myself trembling as soon as that freezing air collided with my skin.

What kind of joke is the month of February? I found myself thinking, it's shorter than all his friends and dead cold. February is the month's equivalent of a little bitch. The short, blonde ones who always glance at you in that way that makes you shiver.

"You still haven't had breakfast???!!! It's 10:37," was Evelyn's reply.

"Yes. Thank you, I can read the time myself," I texted back.

"I mean, Jesus, it's late, did you wake up just now?" she seemed to wonder.

"Nah, what are you talking about? I like to have breakfast at least three hours after I wake up," I sarcastically stated.

"Ok, if you have to be a jerk then I'll open this package right now," she threatened.

"NO," I quickly sent. And then another one just saying, "WAIT."

I ran down to the kitchen and found my mother right there. I wanted to make the hot chocolate milk myself, but it was some kind of tradition that, when she was there, she had to make it. So if I were to step over her and start making it, she'd ask me why I was in such a hurry, and then a whole annoying conversation would spawn out. Therefore, it was better to avoid that and just wait.

I had to wait a few minutes, too, because apparently she had more important things to do. Meanwhile, a text from Evelyn reading "Waiting" reached my phone.

Soon after, another one reading "Impatiently" arrived. Jesus, I thought as I raised my head to look at mom. She was already pouring the hot milk in my cup. "You know, you could make it yourself," she protested. It was her way not to show that she actually wanted to make it.

"Yeah, but you know. I like it better when you make it," I lied. Honesty wasn't the forte of my family anyway.

After the quick breakfast I ran back to my room and turned on the laptop. "Skype now" I simply texted to Evelyn. As I waited for the computer to start, I scratched my eye, I thought about it for a second, and then I ran to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

When I came back to my room, the computer was already ringing. I quickly plugged the headphones in and picked up Evelyn's call. "Avsama."

"Oh, finally," she exclaimed, "I feel like I've been waiting for years!"

"C'mon, quit babbling and open it," I said smiling at her blue eyes. She had an old t-shirt on, her hair in a ponytail, and wasn't wearing any makeup. Still, she appeared to look just as beautiful as always.

Her feed lagged constantly, but I managed to understand that she was opening the package. Just seeing something that used to be mine on the other side of the screen felt weird.

I guess having never seen her made the whole relationship feel like a fantasy, something that wasn't real. At the time, I saw my relationship with her as my own personal Neverland. A place I could run to when I was feeling lonely, when I had nothing else to do, and when I wanted someone who loved me. A place where I could escape from reality, because reality sucked.

Those Skype calls were like a great movie I'd watch every day, and, all of a sudden, the main actress had something of mine in her hands.

That's why sharing something, even if only a box, felt strange. It felt like reality invading fantasy. And I didn't know how to feel about it.

"Aw, that's cute," she said, looking at the t-shirt.

"I told you, nothing too special," I shrugged.

"It's still special to me," she said, and then chuckled as she went through the other stuff in the box. "A Pepsi. Of course."

"Yeah, so Coke won't taste as good as it seems to you anymore," I explained.

"Well, I would drink it right now," she said, "but it's hot. So I better put it in the fridge."

"Of course," I said, as she read the little message on it and seemed to be blushing. I heard her hand stumbling around the table, until her webcam was turned off.

"Come on," I giggled, "I caught you blushing. You failed, this time. Besides, you won't be able to turn yourself off in real life."

She quickly turned it back on and, still a little giggly, she opened the letter, and read it out loud. Needless to say, she turned the webcam off once again when she read the second line, and never turned it back on. So all I had was her voice in my ears, reading my words, which even sounded beautiful and sweet. They certainly didn't feel that way when I wrote them and reread them. I guess the bad handwriting was paying a huge role in that.

She thanked me time and time again and couldn't stress enough how I made her day.

"You know, I was thinking. Why don't we put the relationship status public?" I asked.

"I don't know. You want to?" she asked me.

"Yeah! I don't want our relationship to be a secret. I'm proud of being with you. And I also want to show everyone that loser without redemption, Peter Charming finally has a girlfriend."

"I don't know. Are you sure that's a good idea?" she sheepishly asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be? Unless... you don't want to...?"

"No, yes, of course I do! Okay, let's do it!" she said.

"I love you, Avsama," I said.

"I love you more, Avsam."

After we ended the call, I put the laptop back to place and headed out of my room, but, as soon as I opened the door, I found my mom.

She jump-scared me. "Mom, what the hell?"

"Now I know for sure that's not a friend from NYC. So who is it, uh?" she interrogated me.

"How long have you been eavesdropping, mom?" I asked with an annoyed look.

"Long enough," she replied shamelessly, "now would you mind telling me who that is?"

"Yes, I would mind," I said and headed out of the room, away from her.

"Peter, I'm serious," she blocked me in the hallway, "do you want me to deactivate Internet?"

At that point, I was so mad that I couldn't even get one thought straight. "God!" I yelled at her, "why do you have to be like this?!"

"Like what?" she asked, "you're the one being so secretive."

"It's called having some privacy! Ever heard of it? But no... Jesus! You just have to know!" I cried.

"If it's nothing bad, then you wouldn't mind telling me," she pursued, "would you?"

"It's not about bad and good, mom," I tried to keep calm, "it's about my privacy. Why can't you give me some freaking privacy?!"

"You know," she sang, "just the other day I saw on the news that a seventeen year old girl was chatting online with someone she thought was a boy, and then--"

"Spare me this crap," I cut her off, "it's a girl, alright? And it really is. It's not some forty year old pervert. I saw her. She's real. Her name's Evelyn. You happy?"

She stood silent for a moment. "So... what is she? A girlfriend?"

"Yes," I sighed, "she's my girlfriend."

"And what was stopping you from telling me?" she sounded happy and actually had a kind of frightening smile on.

"I can't just tell you as soon as we get together," I explained, "I need my time, you know. And my space. And you wouldn't give me any of that."

"Well, I was worried you were getting yourself in trouble, Pete," she said, "if you'd told me it was just a girlfriend, I would've given you your beloved privacy."

And it was in that moment that I thought about it. I omitted one important piece of information. "She's from Cleveland."

Her smile slowly faded. "Cleveland... as in Ohio?" she quibbled, "and when exactly did you meet this girl?"

"I didn't," I declared, "and I never said I did. I said I saw her... I saw her on Skype, you know? The voice-calling thing..."

"Oh, okay... and what tells you it was actually her and not, say, someone dressed up like her?" she seriously asked.

"For real? I mean... what? Someone dressed up?" I mocked her. "Have you been watching X-Files on TV lately? 'Cause you seem to have gotten a little paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid, Peter. I'm telling you. You can't trust people online," she lectured.

"Yes!" I raised my voice. "As long as they're just behind a keyboard. But when you actually see their face and-- and see that damn face talking... I mean, there's no real room left to be skeptical there."

"Of all the places," she babbled, "of all the places in the state of New York... you had to pick one in Cleveland."

I let out a deep breath, trying not to yell. "I didn't pick her, mom. And, by the way, the state of New York? I barely ever left Queens. And that's because of your fear of living. It's what got you married to that man, and it's what got you stuck in this toxic neighborhood for the rest of your days, and I'm sorry, but I won't follow suit," I sent back tears that were making their way out of my eyes, "are we done now?"

"We're far from done, boy," she scolded as I made my way downstairs, "enjoy this little fantasy of yours and call me when it's over."

I turned around before hitting the stairs. "I'll call you alright," I shouted, "I'll call you at my wedding with this girl!"

My wedding? What was I thinking? We've only been together two months and I'm talking about a wedding here.

The next day at school, Amber and I sat together in a few classes. It seemed like we really did leave what happened in the past, but still, something felt weird. I didn't have too much time to think about it, because Andrew and Josh decided to break their silence during lunch break.

"Hey, long-distance lover, how is it going?" Josh said with a smirk on his face. They kept their distance, but were close enough for a me and a bunch of people around us to hear.

"Yeah, how's your girlfriend? Did she give you a good morning kiss... via text?" Andrew pursued and then started laughing along with Josh.

I caught Erasmus giggling at the table where he was sitting alone, but he turned dead serious as soon as his eyes caught my glance. "You know," I responded, trying not to give out my rage, "at least I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, you're right," Andrew said, "so... do you two have phone sex?" and the laughing started once again.

"And what do you two do? You role-play with each other, pretending to be gay like you did with me?" is what I should have said. Say it, I was telling myself, say it. And why didn't I say it? Probably because I didn't think about this comeback until after I was back at home in my bed.

Instead, I looked at Amber in the need of a friendly face to support me, but a little part of me died when I realized she was laughing along with them.

"So is that how it is?" I said towards her, "you're all going to make fun of it? You're all against it?"

The smile faded from Amber's lips, and she approached me. "What? Peter, no. What do you mean 'against it'? I'm happy for you. Still, you gotta be rational... long-distance relationships never work."

"Yeah," Erasmus intervened, "long-distance relationships are a bad idea."

"You know what else is a bad idea?" I fumed, "not minding your own business." I raised my voice so that Andrew and Josh could hear me too. "We'll see who'll be laughing when I invite you all to my wedding!"

Again with the wedding?! It seemed like I desperately wanted to prove everyone wrong. Everyone was against me. So I used that as a fuel to motivate me in not giving up on Evelyn.

"Peter," Amber grabbed my arm and took me away from the other three, "I'm not against it, alright? And, oh, I almost forgot. Evelyn even sent me a friend request!"

I raised a brow. "She did?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "I thought it was so sweet of her! Maybe I'll chat with her and get to know her."

"No, leave it alone. Mind your own business. She is my girlfriend and I want her to stay that way." is what I should've said. Instead, I just said "yeah! Do that. So you'll understand why I love her!"

"They're all against it, Belle," I cried, "nobody's there to support me. They're all like, 'long-distance is bad', 'long-distance sucks', yada yada. I hate them all."

"Hey, you know I support you," Belle said, "Tyler supports you. Forget about those guys. They've never been in love. They don't understand what it means."

"Have you?"

"What?"

"Been in love? Have you ever been in love, Belle?"

"Peter... you know I have."

"I do?"

"You do."

"Oh... right."

Back home, I slammed the door just to release my frustration. My father, sitting at the kitchen table, almost jumped. Then he said, "hey, boy. How's your platonic love going?"

The mocking tone and the grin on his face were enough to make me want to punch him hard in the mouth. "Of course she'd tell you," I simply said, leaving for my bedroom.

I wanted to ask Evelyn why she added Amber to her friends, but that would've been suspicious. So I simply headed to her profile and took a look at her recent activity. I was shocked to find out that she basically added the entire population of Queens. A lot of people I knew, from elementary school to high school, were now part of her friends list.

As I stared at that, I was startled by an incoming Skype call from her. "Avsama," I picked up, "w-what-- why did you send friend requests to all my acquaintances?"

"Because I wanted to feel closer to you," she sounded serious... too serious, "but apparently that was a bad idea."

I was perplexed. "Why? What happened?"

"I chatted with Amber Kafka." As soon as that name came out of her mouth, an unexplained pain hit me in the stomach.

"And...?" I fought through the pain.

"She told me about the kiss," she sentenced, not a glimpse of her vibrant personality in her voice, but just coldness and betrayal and disappointment.

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Things seem to be going downhill for Peter. Is this it for his relationship with Evelyn, or will they stay together no matter what? And how is Peter gonna confront Amber after what she did? Find out this and more NEXT FRIDAY!

Until then, ta-ta for now!
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