Flamingo A-4, Thursday evening

Xander is sitting on his bed cross-legged, laptop open in front of him. That owl thing was...yeah, ok, it had to be said - for the birds, so even if it means he has to trek up to school to actually send it, his next letter out is going by e-mail. Which he can at least compose here.

Dear Willow:

You'd be proud of me; I taught a whole new generation of us-es to lie about where they've been. Not-you was not there and so was not competing with you on any peanut-butter related issues, mm'kay?

Isabel's got a booooooyfriend, BTW. Well, he is if we go by the 'one date and everybody starts calling you that so might as wel---

He's going to finish that sentence, really, except then there's a knock on his wall, right next to the half-open curtain.

__
[Locked like a locked thing to he who makes Xander speak in present-tense.]