He touched the anchor necklace I hadn’t taken off in years before he let me go and stepped backward. “I can’t stay here…I gotta go. I gotta let you go.” Within seconds he walked out of my bedroom and out of my life.
After he left, Cheryl came and sat beside me on my bed. “Why did you do that, Maggie? Why did you let him go?”
I leaned against my sister and rested my head on her shoulder, unsure how to answer. It felt wrong in my chest, letting him walk away, but he had to go after his dreams without me. When you loved someone, you let them fly away, even if you weren’t on the same flight.
“It’s not fair,” she said. “Because the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him—that’s my dream. That’s what I want someday.”
I parted my lips to speak, but nothing came out. I gave Cheryl a sloppy smile, and she gave me a frown.
“I figured out what kind of activist I want to be,” my sister told me, taking my hand into hers. “I want to fight for you, for people like you. I want to fight for those who don’t have a voice, but are screaming to be heard.”
Calvin and the guys were asked to stay out in Los Angeles for a few more days. They’d been offered a recording deal with Rave Records, and I could almost feel their excitement all the way from the west coast.
Brooks called me to share the news. “I know we aren’t supposed to be talking…but…we did it, Magnet.” His voice was so low. “We did it. We got a deal. In a few weeks, it will be official, and we’ll be signing with Rave. You did this for us. You made this happen.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted this amazing thing to happen for them. Those boys deserved it. They deserved everything that came to them.
“I love you, Maggie,” he whispered before hanging up.
It was the last time I heard from him. Calvin called to tell the family the producer wanted them to get in the studio to record some samples while they worked on the contracts, and before I knew it, days became weeks, and weeks became months. Their lives started moving on the fast track, and I was frozen still. When September came, the band was invited to be an opening act for The Present Yesterdays on their world tour.
It seemed that in a blink of an eye, their lives were completely changed.
I tried my best to stop missing him. I read my books, I took my baths, and I listened to the iPod he’d left behind. I played his guitar, too. It turned out missing someone never became easier, it just became quieter. You learned to live with the longing pain inside you. You mourned the moments you’d shared and allowed yourself to hurt sometimes, too.
There were so many times I opened my phone and stared at his number, so many times I almost dialed him to check in. I told myself I’d only call once, just to hear his voice, but I never built up the courage to move forward. I knew deep down if I called once, I wouldn’t be able to go without calling him each day to hear his voice again.
Most days I hardly left my room, afraid of running into Mama.
She and Daddy were becoming complete strangers right before my eyes. Whenever they were in the same room, one of them left. Before, when Daddy used to leave for work, he’d kiss her forehead, but those kisses were nothing more than a memory now.
The seasons came, the seasons changed, and whenever the band came back into town, Brooks was nowhere to be found. I thought maybe he had found his next adventure on the road. Perhaps our love was supposed to only be a passing moment in time.
“It’s on!” Mama hollered one night, running throughout the house. “It’s on!” Everyone came from their rooms, and for the first time in months, my family seemed like one unit as we stood around the radio in the dining room, listening to The Crooks’ first song on the radio. My chest tightened and I gripped the anchor necklace that had never left my neck as I listened to the words I knew. Our song…
She lies against my chest as her raindrops begin to fall
She feels so weak, floating aimlessly, slamming against the walls
Praying for a moment where she won’t begin to drown
Her heart’s been begging for an answer to the silent hurts her soul keeps bound
I’ll be your anchor
I’ll hold you still throughout the night
I’ll be your steadiness
during the dark and lonely tides
I’ll hold you close, I’ll be your light, I’ll promise you’ll be all right
I’ll be your anchor
And we’ll get through this fight
Listening to the words felt like the kiss I’d been craving. The words felt like he’d promised to come back to me. Everyone in the dining room started cheering and hugging—something we hadn’t done in so long. When Mama’s hands wrapped around Daddy’s body, he held her close. I swore I saw it, too, the place where their love used to exist. It was gone in a flash when they separated, but still, I had seen it, which meant somewhere inside them, that love still remained.
It wasn’t until the night I received a package in the mail that I allowed myself to cry over Brooks leaving.
A book.
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.
Inside the book were yellow Post-its marking the best parts of the book, covered with his handwriting. In the back of the novel was a note, a note I read each day, over and over again for the passing years to come. The note was proof I’d never love another boy again.
A note to the girl who pushed me away
By: Brooks Tyler Griffin
October 22nd, 2018
Maggie May,
It’s been two years since I last saw your face. Twenty-four months of missing you, dreaming of you, and wanting you by my side. Everything reminds me of you, and whenever I come back into town, I stay at my brother’s house, unable to face you. If I saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I know I wouldn’t. My life is moving fast. Some days, I doubt I can keep up. Other days, I want to quit and come home to you. On those days, I remember how you pushed me away. This is what you wanted, and I have to honor your request.
Years before I knew what it meant to love you, I lay in your bedroom, holding your hand, and made you a promise. I gave you an anchor necklace and promised I’d be your friend, no matter what. I’ve done a lot of thinking, wondering how I could still be a friend while also respecting your space. This is the best way that came to mind. I’ll keep sending you novels with my thoughts; I hope this helps you remember that you’re never alone. If you ever feel lonely, read the notes in the books.
If there’s ever a day you call for me, I’ll be there.
I love you, Magnet, both as a lover and a friend. Those are two things that will never change, even when my heart needs a break.
Always yours,
Brooks Tyler
P.S. I’m always around to listen to your silence.
A note to the boy who’s on television
By: Maggie May Riley
August 1st, 2019
Brooks,
I saw you on Good Morning America today. Your hair is longer, isn’t it? Plus, is that a tattoo on your right arm? I couldn’t get a close enough look, but I could’ve sworn it was a tattoo. What is it of? I’m sending back my comments on American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I have a confession, though: I’ve already read it three times before you sent it to me. Seeing your side and your thoughts made it feel like a new read, though. You can’t really go wrong with any of his novels.
I finished reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. I’m crossing my fingers that you’ll enjoy it. I loved it, but I know you’re not as into period pieces as I am. It’s based around World War II, and while it highlights the effects of war, there’s still such a sweet, charming feel to the story. And it’s hilarious too.
Did I tell you Muffins passed away? I told Daddy to tell Mrs. Boone I was sorry for her loss. Her reply? “That damn thing lived a million years. Now I don’t have to waste money on cat food.”
What she reall
y meant was she missed her more than words.
I miss her, too.
Always,
-Maggie
P.S. The Crooks’ new album is number one again this week—I’m not surprised. I’ve been listening to it on repeat for the past five weeks. You’re my favorite kind of sound.
A note to the girl who rereads books for fun
By: Brooks Tyler Griffin
January 5th, 2020
Magnet,
The band is in Tokyo this week, and Rudolph accidently ate fried pig ears, thinking they were organic fried pickles. It was probably the best moment I’ve ever witnessed. There’s this nasty cold going around, and I have fallen as the next victim to the plague. The amount of cold medicine I’ve been doped up on is worrisome, but still, the show must go on tonight. I’m hoping to pass the cold on to Calvin soon, just for laughs.
The book: The Passage by Justin Cronin.
The number of Post-its: one hundred and two.
I heard Cheryl got into Boston State University and is taking up a journalism degree with a minor in women’s studies. Next time you Skype with her, let her know how proud I am of her.
-Brooks
A note to a boy who can go to hell
By: Maggie May Riley
June 14th, 2021
Brooks Tyler,
Seriously? The Fault in Our Stars?
I just cried into a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Surprisingly, the salty tears added to the flavor. With that, I take your John Green novel and raise you A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. Cheryl had me read it, and I haven’t been the same since.
Godspeed.
-Maggie
A note to the girl I hate
By: Brooks Tyler Griffin
August 12th, 2021
M,
Fuck you, Maggie May Riley.
Fuck you very much.
I loved crying over a book in front of a sausage fest of grown men.
It really upped my cool points.
-B
P.S, You’re taking online classes to become a librarian? Amazing. In your last note you wrote, “Hopefully someday I’ll leave home to become a librarian.”
There’s no hope needed.
There are only facts.
You’ll be the best librarian in the history of librarians, and I’d visit your library to read every single book.
A note to a boy with a Grammy
By: Maggie May Riley
February 28th, 2024
Brooks,
I’m so proud of you.
I’m so amazed by your talents.
I hope your world tour is beyond amazing.
The book: Oh The Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss.
The Post-its: Eighteen.
-Maggie
A note to the girl I respect
By: Brooks Tyler Griffin
July 18th, 2025
Magnet,
Sorry I haven’t sent anything in a while. Things have been crazy with rehearsals, meetings, and interviews. I’m tired. I’m always tired lately. I still love it all, but some days, I wish I could slow down.
I feel like I should tell you something, but I’m not sure how, so here it goes.
I met someone.
Her name is Sasha.
She’s a model, and she’s sweet. She’s really, really sweet. She’s an awful singer and a worse dancer, but she laughs, which is more than I can say for most people I’ve met along this journey.
I don’t know why I felt the need to tell you, but I thought you should hear it from me first, instead of the tabloids.
-Brooks
P.S. I reread The Kite Runner. It was the first book you ever gave me, remember? I don’t remember crying the first time I read it, but maybe time changes the way we view stories. Maybe as we grow, life experiences shift the meanings of the books. Maybe I’m not the same person I was those years ago when I read it.
Or maybe I’m just homesick.
April 8th, 2026 — Twenty-Eight Years Old
Each night, Mama, Daddy, and I ate dinner together at the dining room table. Mama and Daddy hardly ever looked at each other. They walked past one another like strangers.
Daddy hardly made any jokes anymore, and when he did come to my bedroom he complained more about Mama’s drinking.
It was hard to believe they had ever been in love. It was hard to imagine how they used to dance.
Still, we ate dinner together each night, even if it was always uncomfortable for everyone. Fridays were my favorite nights, though, because after dinner, Cheryl always called me for a Skype date.
I’d clear my plate and hurry up to my room, eagerly opening my computer. Ever since Cheryl had graduated college, she’d been on a quest to discover the world. She had started backpacking around Europe and Asia, and hadn’t stopped moving since. She’d visited all kinds of places, discovered all kinds of cultures, and witnessed more struggle than she could’ve ever imagined in remote parts of the world that went mostly unnoticed.
She was in Bangkok, Thailand, when she Skyped me that night.
“Hey, sister!” she said, her service not as clear as it had been a week before, but seeing her face at all still made me happy. “You’re looking good.”
I smiled and typed back to her. Ditto.
“So, today I went to see Phra Phuttha Maha Suwana Patimakon. I bet I pronounced that wrong, because when I said it earlier my tour guide told me I totally butchered the pronunciation, but oh well. It’s that big Golden Buddha, ya know? It was amazing, too. Oh!” She shifted around her small hostel room and pulled out a book. “And I got you your first book from Thailand! I don’t know what it says per se, but I think it’s a solid one if you know how to read Thai.”
I smiled at my dorky sister. I missed her so much.
Cheryl arched an eyebrow. “So since I’ve been gone have you started talking and cursing like your sailor-mouthed sister?”
I shook my head.
“One day I want you to spread your arms out and shout the loudest fuck that could ever be shouted. It will be refreshing, I think.”
I don’t think so.
She frowned. “It would be better if you were a bit more messed up. Less perfect, you know? I mean, I know you’ve got that mute thing, and the can’t-leave-home issue, but those seem small compared to my being a single female and running around the dangerous world alone. You really make it hard to be your sibling.”
I smirked. Sorry.
She snickered. “No you’re not. Anyway, how are classes going?”
I’d been taking online classes at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, where I’d received an undergraduate degree in English. After that, I applied to many different schools that held online Master degrees, yet I wasn’t accepted to any. My rocking résumé probably wasn’t the best, seeing how I hadn’t done much of anything with my life.
It was a year ago when I was ready to give up, but Daddy convinced me to apply at UW-Milwaukee for their Master of Library & Information Science. When I was accepted to their online program, I cried.
Mama said it was a waste of time and money. Daddy said it was a step closer to my happy ending.
School is going well. The semester is almost over, which is good.
“Do you like, flirt with any of your classmates on the discussion boards?” Cheryl asked, her voice heightened.
I rolled my eyes, even though she was quite serious. Cheryl once tried to convince me to fall in love online. She even signed me up on a few dating sites.
“I’m just saying, Maggie. You’re educated. You’re beautiful. And—”
And I live with my parents.
“Yeah, but not in the basement. You live upstairs. That’s different.”
There’s also the issue with me being mute and never leaving home.
“Are you kidding me? Men adore it when women shut up. Plus, if you never leave home, it means you’re a super cheap date. Men love not spending money! You should add those things under your s
trong characteristics on a dating site.” She winked.
I smirked, and she kept pushing the subject until I asked if she’d spoken to Calvin.
“I Skyped with him earlier, and he was telling me how he stumbled across a band on YouTube called Romeo’s Quest. Total indie underground brilliant vibe. He sent me a link to their music, and I literally fell backward, so I’m passing it on now because I know it was made for you. I’ll link it below. And get this: all their songs are based on Shakespeare plays!”
You don’t know anything about Shakespeare.
“I know, Maggie, but that’s not the point! The point is that it’s different and raw and…” She paused. “To be or not to be, that is the question! See! I know some Shakespeare! I’m a college graduate, missy.”
What play is that from?
“Ohmygosh, what is this? Twenty questions? Get off my invisible dick, sister! Anyway, after our call listen to their music. I think Calvin is trying to set something up for the band—some kind of pay-it-forward deal, seeing how they were discovered online.”
Very cool.
“I spoke to Brooks, too,” Cheryl said, making me tilt my head. I tried to ignore the flipping in my stomach.
Is he well?
“Yeah. He looks really good. Happy, ya know? Just tired. He has this crazy facial hair thing going on, as if he hasn’t shaved in years, or something. It turns out it’s only been a few months, but it looks good on him. He looks grown up.”
And happy?
She nodded. “And happy.”
Good. Good. I wanted him to be happy. He deserved to be happy.
After I’d found out he was with Sasha, I couldn’t keep writing him. It hurt too much to know that when he received my books, she could’ve been sitting right beside him. And that wouldn’t have been fair to her, either.