Tracing Hearts Read Online Free

buddy. I’m sorry.” His face falls, and I instantly feel bad. “Maybe after I’m done though,” I add, to cushion the blow.
    He smiles excitedly. “Okay!” he says and bounces back into his room.
    My room is a mess, and I can hardly open the door wide enough to shimmy through it. It’s a wonder that Mom hasn’t yelled about cleaning it up. I step over clothes that I’m not sure are clean or dirty, and pull the letter from Julia out of my pocket. Throwing it on the small desk next to my closet, I sag into my bed. With my arms laced behind my head, I stare at the ceiling.
    “Sebastian, don’t forget to clean up your room!” Mom calls from the kitchen. I cringe.
    “Yes, Ma’am,” I answer, then sigh. Closing my eyes, my thoughts drift to Julia. What does she look like? She hasn’t described herself yet. Is her hair brown or blonde? Maybe it’s red. Not that it matters. I’m just trying to picture her. Did her mom have an Andrew or a Victoria? The letters back and forth take so long to get here that I’m sure she must know by now. Does she have lots of friends, or is she more like me, the new kid everyone seems to be afraid of talking to? I decide it doesn’t really matter and put these thoughts out of my mind for now.
    I hear some commotion at the front door and soon, my best friend barges into my room, uninvited.
    “What are you doing just laying around? We’ve got a mission, soldier!” A very energetic Peter declares.
    “Not today, dude. I’m tired.”
    He makes a face and before I know it, he jumps onto the bed, grabs ahold of my head, and makes his best effort to give me noogies with his fist. I predict his actions and roll out of his reach. We wrestle around, both trying to get the upper hand and, as usual, I end up victorious, as I rub my fist back and forth across the top of his head.
    “I give, I give! You win!” he says. “As usual.” I release him and plop back down onto the bed. Sitting, I push my too long, mop top off my face. “You know, I don’t know why I ever try to beat you at anything. You always seem to come out on top. No pun intended.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe someday, you’ll learn to just accept you’re a loser.” I raise one eyebrow and think he might attempt another attack, but he refrains.
    “So, what should we do today?”
    I shrug.
    “We could sneak over to the barracks and steal more of Sergeant Crosby’s stuff. I think we have him convinced he’s crazy,” Peter laughs.
    I smile in remembrance of our antics.
    “Nah. I don’t feel like doing much of anything today, Pete. You should go do something without me.”
    “Dude, what’s your problem? You haven’t wanted to do anything for a long time now. What gives?”
    I lie back against my bed again and replace my hands where they were before I was interrupted. What is my problem? I’ve been unmotivated to do anything remotely mischievous lately. All I want to do is sit in my room and do nothing. Peter and I used to get into so much trouble that my dad thought we’d all get kicked off post. Now, it seems as though nothing sounds fun to do. I glance over at the letter from Julia. It’s still folded and on top of my desk. Maybe, I should write to her. Maybe, someone who I’ll never meet can cheer me up and pull me out of this weird mood I’ve slumped into. Peter looks at me and follows my eyes to look in the direction I’m looking. He gets off the bed and takes the letter. I sit up quickly.
    “What are you doing?” I say, nervously and, with wide eyes. I don’t want him to read it.
    “What’s this?”
    I get to my feet and walk toward him.
    “It’s my letter from America. Now hand it over.” I make a move to grab it, but he pulls it out of my reach. His palm against my chest stops me from getting closer to it. “Give me the letter,” I say forcefully and lunge at it.
    “You want this?” He holds the letter up high and beyond my grasp. “Is this the reason you don’t want to hang out with me?