I walk on to campus the next day with one thought in mind: "this is going to be a great and normal day that I am going to conquer."
Passing the many buildings on either side of the various walkways, I turn my music up and enjoy the cooling air. Fall has always been my favorite season. And this year, probably because of global warming, I can relish the falling leaves and trees changing color to magnificent reds, bright oranges and muted yellows, all without numb fingers. Getting to the large brown brick building that has my infamous writing class, I remind myself to write about what happened over the weekend before I forget any key details.
Thinking back to yesterday night, I remember the boys and I getting into the car that brought us all home. I remember walking right up to my apartment and, without a word, walking inside, leaving the boys standing out in the hallway looking after me. I didn't mean for it to seem rude or that I was mad at them, especially since they explained that a friend had come up to them and started talking to them, and that's why they didn't come back to me. Plus, they did beat that guy up for me. Anyways, I went right inside and shower, scrubbing my body harder than ever before. He didn't get a chance to do anything, but he still touched me and it left an invisible residue that I couldn't get off of my body until it was washed 5 times over and the shower had turned beyond cold, I was surprised ice cubes didn't fall out of the shower head.
I also realized that since I met them, I may have had many adventures and enough inspiration to write ten novels, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but more inspiration than I have had in my entire life. The only downside? I have been followed, and I could swear that they knew the guy from last night. Maybe they are the indirect reason he harassed me. I mean, I would rather that it happened to me than another girl, but all of this happening in less than a two week span is enough for anyone's mind to spin off of their neck. Mine was about ready to do so.
That is the reason why I am going to try my hardest to make this a normal day. A day that I used to live before them. One where I blended into the shadows and did the work I had to do without leaving a permanent mark on anyone's life and no one leaving a permanent mark on mine. Even saying all of this, I know that it will take years to forget the two new boys in my life. I may never be able to forget them. Damon made me feel alive and brought me to a beautiful spot that I plan on taking advantage of this weekend. He takes me away from reality where I can just exist without any worries or headaches or upcoming due dates.
Brandon… what can I say about him? I don't know much about him, but I see the same protective drive that mirrors his step brothers. I see a caring personality that makes everyone feel welcome and safe. He is the sensible one, but still craves a sense of unrestrained fun.
Both boys, putting their differences inside, have made me feel like an insider in a world where I always felt like an outsider. He breathed life into a life that was just about surviving until the next paper or exam. I don't know how many times I can say the same thing, but it's the truth. They brought me into the light and showed me that anyone can become a friend. It doesn't take money, a constant effort, hell, you don't even need to like the person. With enough respect and trust, a bond is formed that can be transformed into something even greater as time goes on.
"Rose?" my professor calling my name snaps me out of my thoughts.
"Yes, professor?"
"Stay after class, please."
I nod and he continues on with his lecture. I zone out again, wondering what he might need me for. Giving up after no thoughts pop into my head, I tune back into the lecture and wait for the end of class to know what he wants to talk about.
Thirty minutes later, "class is dismissed. Have a great day everyone. Don��t forget about your project, if you wait for the end of the semester there is no way you will pass this class."
Collecting my things, I walk to the front of the room, my hands shaking.
"Professor?" I call, grabbing his attention.
"Ah, Rose."
"I wanted to talk to you about the project. Have you started yet?"
"Yes, professor."
"Good. Good. What is your topic?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure yet. It may be a coming of age novel where a girl finds out about herself and who she truly is with the help of her friends."
"How many chapters do you have so far?"
"I only have fourteen chapters so far, but I am getting more and more inspiration everyday."
"Very good. The reason I asked you to stay after class today is because I have an opportunity for you. A friend of mine, another professor here, is also an editor at a very famous publishing house. You have potential, Rose. If this is what you really want to do and you give it your all, he will read your novel and work with you to get it published, if that is what you choose. This can be a big opportunity, Rose, your big break. After you publish, or while you publish, there are multiple editing jobs out there that you can apply to. I would like to see the chapters you have so far and give you any suggestions before I send them over to my friend as a preview. When can you send your chapters?"
My heart stops. Did he mention publishing? Editing? My big break? This is what I have been working for my whole academic career!
"I will send them to you by the end of tomorrow. I would like a little time to polish them to the best of my ability before anyone reads them," I say, the utmost confidence and determination in my voice. I can do this. I will do this. I just have to work my butt off for the next two days.
Walking out of the classroom with a small skip in my step, I plan out my night. I have to polish the fourteen chapters I already have and write the fifteenth chapter, as well as finishing the small writing assignment that is due tomorrow for my other class. It's not a lot of work, but it will take me four hours minimum. I want these chapters to be perfect.
The rest of the day flies by and before I know it, I am already pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex, ready to start enhancing my novel. It was all I could think about when I was at my internship, I couldn't even read any of the manuscripts I was assigned, just picturing them as my own manuscript. The thought fills my body with adrenaline and untamable excitement.
Up the stairwell and into my bedroom, I grab my laptop, print out all the chapters and get to work.
I stop as the sunlight leaves my room and darkness takes its place. Having done half of the preview, I stop and decide to give my eyes a rest from the 12 point font. I can feel them straining against the paper and looking away doesn't do much to help at first. Attempting to get out of my bed, papers crinkle all around me. Quickly collecting them into one pile, I put them into numerical order before separating the pages that I've done and the ones that I still have to do.
My growling stomach rushes to the kitchen. Putting water, noodles and seasoning into a bowl, I put the ramen into the microwave. Waiting for it to be finished, I pour myself a glass of water and take a ginormous gulp. I didn't realize how thirsty I was. Taking my soup out of the microwave I place it on the table and grab a few papers from my room to edit a little more while I am eating. As I finish up chapter 9, I place my bowl and cup into the sink and bring everything back into my bedroom. I spend the next four hours going through the rest of the chapters, only stopping at an insistent knocking on my door breaks my zone.
Briskly walking to see who it is, I don't bother looking through the peephole when I open the door. Luckily, only Brandon and Damon stand there, concerned looks on their faces. Before either of them can speak I hold up my hand.
"I can't talk for the next day and a half. I have a rare opportunity and everything needs to be perfect. Have a great night."
Not meaning to sound rude, I smile and add, "I will tell you both about it after I submit it. Talk to you both tomorrow."
Shutting the door, I block my view of the surprised boys and get right back to work. I only stop one more time, with papers surrounding my body and a blue pen trapped in my hair, when my eyes shut with the promise of not opening until the next morning.