A/N: Y'all are fixing to hate me...

  •Jenna•

   The Friday after break was horrible. I completely flunked a quiz in French, slipped and fell in front of everyone in the cafeteria, and dropped my camera, which resulted in my spare lens cracking. To top that off, I received even more hateful notes in my locker. I'm done.
    I climb out of my mom's car and walk into the house. Tyler had to stay after school for basketball practice, and I didn't want to wait around at that prison any longer, even if it was until four.
    Trudging up the stairs, I shuffle into my room and drop my backpack carelessly on the floor, then flop onto my bed. I grab my earbuds and iPod off of my nightstand, then start to blast music in my ears. I close my eyes and lay still for a few minutes.
   Of all days, Tyler isn't available to talk to on the worst one I've had in a while. I would call Josh, but he's probably busy, too. Maybe I could get Tyler to come over after his practice is over if he's not too tired.
    Hunger suddenly nips at my stomach. I roll off of my bed and walk downstairs for something to eat. Brennan is at ball practice with Tyler, while Kristen and Carrie are nowhere to be seen.
   I grab a cup of yogurt from the fridge and sit down at the dining room table with spoon. Mom appears from the laundry room as I rise to throw the empty carton away once I finish.
   "Hey, Jenna, I forgot to check the mail when we got home. Could you go get it?"
  "Sure," I reply tiredly. I walk through the living room and out the front door toward the brick mailbox at the end of our driveway.
   I thumb through various bills, coupons, and newspaper ads but then stop when I find my name written on a plain white envelope.
   My brows furrow. Who would send a letter to me? I glance at the left corner. There's no return address. Weird.
   I return to the kitchen and set all mail on the kitchen table except the mysterious envelope, which I take upstairs with me.
   Closing my bedroom door, I sit down at my desk and tear open the envelope. A folded sheet of notebook paper lies inside. I lift it out gingerly check the outside for any name, but find none. Then, I unfold it to see slanted words scribbled across the page in the form of letter mail.

        My Dear Jenna,

   I know you see me pretty much every day, but sometimes I cannot explain my feelings to you in person. I seem to express words and emotions better through writing and singing than I do talking. That's basically why I'm in a band.
    Speaking of the band, you know that we're still trying to get it off the ground. A few gigs are nice, but we want to do better. It'll take a lot of long nights and hard work, but I think we can do it. I want our music to change people.
    That is why this year I am going to channel all of my energy that my demons don't use into my music and the band. I can't have any distraction if I want to fulfill my dreams.

    The next part hits me like a blow to the stomach.

  That is why I am breaking up with you. I hope you understand my decision.

                               Sincerely,
   
                               Tyler Joseph

    I read and reread the letter not once, but three more times. Tears start pooling around my eyes as I come to realize the words are real, on paper.
   That's when the fury courses through my veins. Of all days, he wasn't here. Of all days, he decided to send me a letter. A letter. And he told me I meant everything to him!  That I was the best thing that ever happened to him! He was using me!
    I march over to my bag to dig my phone out of it's mesh pocket. I find Tyler's number and punch call, not caring whether he's out of ball practice or not.
    He answers on the third ring. "Hey, Babe."
   "Oh, don't 'Hey Babe' me. I got the letter, Tyler," I spit.
  "Jenna? Calm down. What's wrong?"
  Tears spill out of my eyes. "A letter!? Seriously, Tyler!? If you were going to break up with me, you could have at least done it in person!" I pick up one of my pillows and slam it to the floor, then kick it against the wall.
   There's a split second of silence on the other end of the line. "Jenna...I don't know what you're talking about."
   I ignore him and yell through my tears. "You are a coward, Tyler Robert Joseph! A coward! And I hate you. I...hate...you!" I hang up and shut off my phone before he can say anything else. I don't want to talk to him now, or not ever again.
   I wipe my damp face with my shirt and shove my phone into my back pocket. Then, I grab a pen, the letter, and my journal and head downstairs and outside. I catch a glimpse of my face in the living room mirror on the way out to see it tomato red. I'm surprised I don't have steam coming out of my ears. Some cold air will do me good.
   Despite it belonging to Tyler, I find my feet driving me toward the treehouse. And I hate myself for that.

     •Tyler•

  I stare at my phone and lean against my gym locker in shock. I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I see Jenna's brother, Brennan, still in his gym clothes.
   "Hey man, are you okay? I heard yelling coming from your phone." He gestures to the device clamped tightly in my hand.
    I push both of my hands through my hair. "I don't know what just happened. Jenna called me, sounding angrier than the Hulk and said that I was a coward for not breaking up with her in person. I didn't even break up with her! And she mentioned a letter...?"
   Yay! She finally saw what was good for her and forgot you! She probably hates your guts now. I'm starting to like this chick. She seems to want you gone now, too.
   Brennan squeezes my shoulder, bringing me back down to earth. "I'll talk to her tonight. It's probably all a misunderstanding."
   I rub my eyes. "I hope so. I've never seen her this mad before. I'm scared to call her or talk to her in person. She might be plotting my murder right now."
   "Just give her time to cool off. I think coming over tomorrow should be okay. Just leave her be tonight."
   I nod and sigh. "Okay. I'm probably going to be up the rest of the thinking about this. I really hope she's okay."
   Brennan pats me on the back. "She will be. It'll be okay, man."
   But is that really true?