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Chapter Six
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“What are you doingin here?” I look up from the stack of old VHS tapes I’m sorting to find Alec leaning inside the door of the storage closet located in the back of the media room.
“I’m helping clear out some of the outdated stuff in here to make room.” I shove a couple more tapes into the box on the floor in front of me.
“Another volunteer project?” He grins.
“Actually.” I knead my bottom lip between my teeth. “Detention,” I admit.
“Detention?” He gapes at me. “How does someone like you end up with detention?”
While he’s only known me a few days, given all the extra curriculars I do for this school, I’m not surprised that he’s surprised.
“Tardiness,” I confess, only mildly embarrassed.
“They give you detention for being tardy?” He quirks a brow.
“Apparently so.” I gesture around the dusty closet that’s actually bigger than my bedroom at home. I’m honestly not sure why they call it a closet.
“You’ve never been late to any of the classes we have together.”
“Well,one, today is only your sixth day here. And two, it’s always first period I’m late for. I’m a horrible morning person.” I shrug. “What are you doing back here anyway?” I ask. It’s not like the media room is a hot spot where students typically hang out.
“I’m actually here to talk to Ned Willis. Do you know him?”
“Ned? Yeah. But why do you want to talk to Ned?”
“He’s the head of the school newspaper and our English teacher suggested I speak to him about possibly joining the paper.”
“Wait. You’re a writer?” I ask, having not pegged him as the type.
“I am. Surprised?”
“A little. I had you pegged as more of the jock type.”
“Oh I am.” He chuckles. “I’ve played basketball for years. But, I also love to write. I’ve been doing it since I was old enough to hold a pencil. I started out writing stupid little stories. I’d illustrate them and make my mom staple them together so I could take them to school and share them with my classmates.”
“And did they like them?”
“The writing... They seemed to. Then again, I was in elementary school so who really knows. But my illustrating left a little to be desired. I guess stick figures are not an acceptable form of people.” He smiles, giving me a full view of his stunning dimples. “Anyway, eventually my writing evolved and I got into writing non-fiction articles. There’s something so gratifying about researching a topic and bringing it to life.”
“Nonfiction.” I nod. “I guess it makes sense that you’d want to join the paper.”
“It’s good practice. Helps me hone my craft. But one day I really want to move into fiction. I’ve always had a thing for short stories but who knows.” He shrugs. “I might change my mind.”
“So do you plan to go to school for writing?”
“I do. I was planning on attending USC but since I’m here now I’ll probably look locally.”
“Why?”
“It makes more sense. Why spend a fortune on a dorm room if I can get the same education close to home and not have that added expense. College is expensive enough as it is.”
“I get that. Too bad for me, there aren’t any good Culinary schools around here. Though I’ll probably end up attending one of them anyway.”
“That’s right. Culinary school. You mentioned that before.”
