Cheerio

                                    

                                          
"We need to get you on this show," Bristol said as she laid on Camila's couch watching the season premier of The Bachelor. "It's been far too long since you've had a decent man in your life." Camila rolled her eyes despite knowing that her bestie couldn't see her as she got popcorn and wine from the kitchen. She sifted through the stack of mail that sat on her kitchen counter as she waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave, noticing the awaited letter from Toronto. "Are you almost done in there? I'm hungry," Bristol complained. Camila ignored her best friend's whines as she opened the envelope and read through his letter. She couldn't help but laugh when he said he liked her peach. Funny enough, the peach stickers had been a gift from Bristol. According to her, the peach emoji belonged to Camila. She even had her in her phone as that emoji.
                          
Camila finished the letter, reading his addendum about the photos of his tattoos. She hadn't seen any pictures, but quickly opened the envelope again to see that they had still been tucked inside. She pulled out the three images and took her time observing each one. For some reason, these images felt strangely intimate. One was of the guitar tattoo on his forearm, one was the floral butterfly on his bicep, and the third was the sparrow on his hand. She stared at the pictures for longer than she'd like to admit. His arms looked tan and muscular and his hand looked large and strong.
                          
"What's taking so long?" Bristol pouted as she stomped into the kitchen. She looked over Camila's shoulders and saw the images she held in her hands. "Seriously? I haven't gotten my popcorn and wine yet because you were looking at pictures of some random guy's arms? Jesus...we really do need to get you laid." Camila immediately blushed and put the images face down onto the counter in embarrassment. "So? Who's the hottie with the tatted bod?"
                          
"No one," Camila said unconvincingly.
                          
"Bullshit!" Bristol laughed as she took a sip of her wine. She snatched the letter from the counter in front of Camila and started to read through it. Camila protested her snooping and attempted to grab the letter back but Bristol turned away just quickly enough to avoid her grasp. Before she knew it, Camila was chasing her best friend around the kitchen as she read out the Canadian's letter in a mocking tone. "You do have a nice peach, he's right about that," she laughed.
                          
"Bristol! This isn't funny, give it back!"
                          
"Not until you tell me who this is."
                          
"Well," Camila sighed as she slumped her shoulders. "That's the thing...I don't really know who he is." Bristol's eyes widened.
                          
"So...he's a stranger? A stranger who's sending you pictures of their hands and arms?"
                          
"You read the letter. He wasn't sending me pictures of his hands and arms, we were talking about tattoos and so he sent me pictures of some of his."
                          
"But how did you guys even find each other? And what do you mean you don't know who he is?" Bristol asked. It was a fair question.
                          
"I don't know...he's just kind of a pen pal, I guess? We found each other on this site that matches you up with someone to write back and forth to."
                          
"Jesus...a pen pal matching website? Can't you just get on Tinder like a normal person?"
                          
"Bristol, we've talked about this. I am on Tinder and it hasn't been doing shit for me. Besides, this isn't a dating thing...he's just someone friendly that I've been talking to."
                          
"You're going to fall in love with him," Bristol stated matter-of-factly. "I'm calling it now."
                          
"That's a bold assumption."
                          
"Is it? I mean we already know he likes your butt."
                          
"He hasn't seen my butt," Camila explained. "I used one of the peach stickers you gave me to cover my face in a picture I sent him. That's what he was referring to." Bristol smirked and nodded.
                          
"So...how long have you and this mystery man been in contact with one another?"
                          
"I don't know," Camila shrugged. "A few weeks, I guess." Bristol sighed and handed the letter back to Camila.
                          
"Well, if it's something that's making you happy then I guess I won't stop you. Just promise me you won't get in over your head? I know how you are. I don't want you to get hurt." Camila nodded in response and looked down at the floor.
                          
"I know, I'm being careful. It's just nice to make a genuine connection with someone, I guess." Camila sighed and looked back up at her best friend. "Now can we get back to our girl's night? The popcorn is going to get cold."
                          
"Of course. You should probably write mystery boy back, though," Bristol said with a soft smile. Camila returned her smile and followed her back to the couch - grabbing a paper and pen on the way. She settled into the couch with her popcorn and wine next to her as Bristol resumed the episode of The Bachelor she had come over to watch in the first place. Camila read through his letter one more time before picking up her pen and writing her response.
                          
S,
Your tattoos are beautiful! Sounds like you have quite the collection. I'm kind of disappointed to hear that the ass tattoo was a joke - I was hoping we could be twins. (Kidding, obviously.) Unfortunately none of your guesses as to what my name is were correct. We're clearly not very good at this whole "name guessing" thing. I hope you don't take offense to this, but I was kind of keeping our communication a secret. Not because I was embarrassed by it, per se...but mainly just because I enjoyed it being something just between us. With that being said, my nosy best friend stumbled across your letter and now she knows. Her name is Bristol and she's an absolute handful. Kinda weird that I'm telling you her name and not mine...but oh well. Does anybody in your life know that we talk? Not that it has to be some big secret. If you told someone that's totally fine. I'm just curious. Also don't worry about the peach comment. It's not the first time a guy has complimented my peach and I imagine it won't be the last. Those stickers were actually a gift from my friend Bristol, so in a weird way it's kind of like you two have already met. I've been trying to come up with more S names to guess, but the only two I've been able to think of are Simon and Sean. Are either of those correct? If not I'm going to start guessing some crazy shit...wait, shit starts with an S. Is your name shit? God, I hope so. That'd be hilarious.
                          
P.S. I'm going to let Bristol pick the sticker for this letter. She's a wildcard and I have quite the eclectic collection of stickers, so apologies in advance for whatever she chose.
                          
Cheerio,
C
                          
Camila folded and stuffed the letter into the envelope, addressing the front to the address in Toronto. 
                          
"Alright, B...I need a sticker to seal the envelope. I'll let you pick. Try not to scare him away." Bristol excitedly shuffled through her best friend's sticker sheets before picking one that was a cactus with a butt and the word "cact-ass" written beneath it. 
                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
"I wanted to use one of those 'I love cock' stickers I got you for your birthday last year...but I figured that might be a bit too forward."
                          
"Good call," Camila laughed as she stuck the cactus sticker to the back of the envelope. 
                          
A/N: CAN YOU BELIEVE OUR ANGELIC LITTLE HUNK IS 22 TODAY? I CAN'T. MANIFESTING A CAMILA POST EVEN THOUGH I KNOW IT WON'T HAPPEN.