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“You knew you weren’t supposed to be reading it since you closed my door, huh?”
Holden’s cheeks flush pink. “Okay, okay, fine. But I couldn’t help myself. The two times you shared in class weren't enough.”
“Well, next time, ask permission first.”
“I will, I promise. But can I ask you something?”
My stomach twirls. “Maybe…”
“I read the story about the girl who lost all her dreams. How did you get the idea for it?”
I freeze, my stomach now doing somersaults.The one story I hoped he hadn’t read…of course.
“I don’t know. I have so many stories in my head. It’s fictional, just a girl who had big plans and they were all broken.”
“Are you that girl?”
“Who me?” I snort and roll my eyes. “Now that’s funny. We all know someone like me would never have big plans.”
“Someone like you? What does that mean?”
“Oh you know, the party girl who’ll spread her legs instead of going to classes.”
“Len, don’t talk about yourself like that. Just because you hook up with guys doesn’t mean you can’t plan for your future or reach for your goals. Look at me, my family offers me no support because I didn’t do what my father wanted me to do. But fuck it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need them in my life. I’ll do what I want. And you can too.”
“I don’t know, Holden. It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
I sigh, and he slides even closer so our legs are touching. With one hand, he tugs on my arm and pulls them free. He takes one of my hands in his and squeezes. He doesn’t say anything while he waits for me to speak, but those eyes of his, so deep and endless, tell me everything.
He genuinely cares. Maybe opening up to him won’t be such a bad thing.
You don’t have to tell him everything…
“I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl. I used to read books constantly, always begging my mom to take me to the library for more. I could finish one in a day.” I smile as I remember my young self as a freckle-faced redhead loving the library more than the park. “Even in the summer, I’d opt to spend my days inside reading rather than being outside swimming or at the beach. When I turned twelve, my mom finally let me ride my bike to the library downtown. I’d spend hours in there.”
Holden rubs his thumb along the back of my hand while he listens. My heart thumps in my chest and my throat thickens as the bittersweet memories wash over me.
“One day, while checking out more books, one of the librarians told me about the new clubs they were starting. There would be a club for different genres of books and also a writer’s club. She asked me if I liked to write, and I said I never tried, but that I loved being swept away by a story, and even when I’m not reading, I’m imagining my own. She said to me ‘child, that’s the answer of a writer.’ I went home and imagined one of those stories playing like a movie reel in my head. And then I just started typing.”
“Aha! I knew it. Youdowrite.”
“Did.That’s the keyword.”
“Did you stop enjoying it? I know that happens when being creative.”
I shake my head, and my gaze falls to our hands. “No. I almost wish that was it.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I’m sure you have a good reason. Maybe you’ll get back to writing one day. And if not, that’s okay too.”
When I look up at Holden, he’s smiling, his eyes bright.Damn, he’s so sweet.A part of me wants to tell him. To confess everything that happened on the one night that flipped my world upside down. But I can’t. It’s my fault it happened, so I don’t deserve the sympathy.
“Life fucks you up. High school was a shit show, and my plans went down the drain. Plain and simple. My parents just wanted me to go to college. So I switched majors and put that shit behind me. It’s in the past, and I’m not that girl anymore. I want to have fun and forget the thoughts haunting me every damn day.”
“Well maybe she is—”
“No.” I stop him. “Anyway, here we are.”
