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Chapter One- Letters From an Old Friend

New York:

“Honey, a letter came for you.” Joyce Summers called out to her eldest daughter.

The middle-aged woman was standing in the kitchen of her Manhattan loft, sifting through a pile of junk mail on the island counter top. The island sat in the middle of the spacious room, and was surrounded by four wooden stools the color of a bottle of sherry. Unopened mail littered the counter top and a bowl of fresh fruit was positioned in the center. An old fashioned stove remained in back of her and a refrigerator stood to her left. Some dirty dishes sat unnoticed in the nearby sink, which could be found on the left-hand sidewall next to the refrigerator. Chestnut cupboards lined the peach-colored walls at the top near the ceiling, as well as near the floor.

Buffy bounced into the room from the stairs to the right. Her long honey blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back, and swung from side to side with each step she took. The gray pair of sweat pants she wore clung to her tiny waist and fell loose from her hips all the way down to her slim ankles. She wore a plain white tank that was tight and form-fitting, accenting her taut breasts and leaving not much to the imagination. Her body held the grace of a nineteen-year-old, but her eyes reflected the still very-much-intact innocence of a young girl.

“Another letter from that shoe store on Main and First? How many times have I told them that I plan on paying off my tap as soon as I have the money?” She asked causally, glancing into the refrigerator as she pulled the door open. She skimmed its contents for a moment before deciding on bottled water. Taking a sip she turned back towards her mother.

“Yeah, and you also plan on paying off all those nice pink slips of paper that I like to refer to as ‘parking tickets’ too, right?” Joyce chuckled.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Buffy replied glaring daggers at her. Joyce just continued to laugh examining the letter.

“Actually it looks quite like a card to me. From Sunnydale.” She added the last part just to see her daughter’s react.

Buffy’s attention was immediately focused on the tiny white envelope Joyce held in her hands. Joyce wasn’t surprised at her daughter’s reaction to the news. She knew Buffy still missed her friends back home dearly, even though New York had been home for the past three years. She was pulled out of her thoughts, though, as Buffy snatched the card out of her hands.

“Oh, a card. For me.” She sounded cheerful.

Buffy stared at the return address in the top left-hand corner of the envelope for what seemed like an eternity judging whether or not she wanted to open the card from the only place in the world that she could refer to as ‘home.’

‘1632 Revello Drive.

Sunnydale, CA 55555’

God, she hadn’t heard from Sunnydale in forever. That address seemed like a different world now. It was, really. Not since she was sixteen, had she seen that address, but she remembered it like it was yesterday.

It was the house where she spent most of her waking hours at, playing whatever game she and her friends would make up. It was the house where she would hide out while her parents were fighting. Where she had her first boyfriend. Her first kiss. Her best friend. Her William.

And she could tell by the slender cursive writing just whom the card was from. She had spent countless days watching him write and perfect poetry addressed to her in that very same handwriting. She could never forget that writing. So committed to memory it was, that she was sure could remember the way it looked more vividly than the actual source of the writing.

It was from William.

“Who’s it from, Buffy?” Joyce asked from across the counter, looking rather expectedly at her.

“It’s from Will, mom.” Buffy replied, absentmindedly, still staring at the piece of mail as if it were to jump up and bite her finger off any minute now.

“Really dear, what does it say?”

Buffy hurriedly ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled out it’s contents.

Her mother was right, it was a card. The front was white with light blue printed French curves, lining the edges of the tiny cardboard. Huge printed cursive letters spelled out the phrase ‘Please join us in celebrating...’ The words continued on into the inside cover, so Buffy opened the card and read the rest of the phrase, eyes growing wide in shock.

“H-He’s getting married.” She said not realizing she even spoke, as her big hazel eyes remained fixed on the words that would forever change her life. ‘The marriage of Mr. William Giles and Cordelia Chase.’

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A/N: I know it’s small, but I just had this idea and wanted to try it out. What do you think? Any suggestions? Please Review!!!





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