Write Me A Love Story

04:

The clock on my wall was stuck on ten; not because time wouldn't move. The battery died at some point last night. Did I make a point to change it? Of course not.

With a cup of coffee in my hand, I stared at it as if it tracked my story progress accurately. I rushed home after my talk with Reece. I felt his motivational praise push through me. And last night, I wrote things.

Was it the beginning of a story? Not sure. It didn't feel like the beginning. It felt like an excerpt, like the ones you would find on the inner book flap. But I had such high hopes for it, that I thought that if I went to sleep, I could continue it refreshed when I got up in the morning.

That wasn't the case. And the clock made a point to mimic me. Stuck in place, having reached a point where it stopped working and couldn't continue. Sipping my coffee, I sighed. Caffeine couldn't fix my dead battery, could it?

"Meow." Francesca rubbed against my leg as she walked past me. I looked down at her, just as she approached her food bowl.

I smiled at her. "Good morning to you too, Queen."

She meowed again, then dove face-first into her bowl. I took a tiny bit of her energy and looked at my laptop. I'd left it on the kitchen table after I wrote last night, I hadn't bothered to shut the flap. The blank screen called me. Sighing, I tapped the space bar and watched as my laptop came back to life.

My Word document remained. Unsaved. Untitled. Black letters on a white background pleaded with me to continue. Sitting down in front of it, I read the bits Reece had motivated me to write:

'"You can do this." His hand reached over the ledge of the abandoned building. His fingers were outstretched, trembling as his chest pressed against the crumbling brick.

Still clutching the ledge, I stretched but couldn't reach him. I swung to the left, then the right, and lost my grip. I slid down an inch. "I can't!" I shouted. "They're coming, just leave me here!"

He growled and dipped himself further towards me. The tips of his fingers touched mine. "Just grab my hand, come on! Don't be like this!"'

I chewed on my bottom lip, reading the final line. "This is good stuff, right?" I muttered to myself as I slid my hands through my hair. "It has to be."

Francesca walked over to my side. I felt her tail brush against my leg as she sat down. Glancing at her, I lifted my brows. "I don't even know where they are, you know." I pursed my lips. "I have my characters on a crumbling building, fire everywhere—" I made pretend explosions with my hands. Francesca leaned back, eyes wide. "—but I don't know how they got there, why this is happening, or even where they are."

Francesca closed her eyes and licked her front paw.

Frowning, I looked back at the computer's screen. "I think I need a little assistance..."

When Francesca lifted her head, I glanced into her yellow eyes. "What do you think?" I asked her.

She blinked and meowed. That was confirmation enough. I needed help. There was only one person who made me unstuck.

"Well, I'm off today." I left my coffee on the table before walking out of the kitchen. "I think a library trip is in order."

***

For a Wednesday morning, it was nice. I thought after yesterday's storm, mugginess had to be on the forecast. But it wasn't humid or nasty. Clouds blocked a lot of the sun and with the breeze, my walk to my local library was pleasant.

Stepping into Phillon's Public Library was even better.

The building looked historic on the outside, but inside, after numerous remodels, was fancy. Beautiful mahogany tables, and light grey rugs until you reached the children's section where adorable cartoon letters decorated the floor. The space smelled of fresh plants, fruits, and books; who didn't love the scent of old and new pages sitting on bookshelves? I took a deep breath and happily sighed.

"Morning!" a deep, smooth voice greeted me from the front counter.

Opening my eyes, I saw the person I wanted to see. Reece. Dressed in a black tee with a silver chain; the bomber jacket on the chair beside him had to be his, too—very fall, simple elegance. I gulped as I approached, devouring him with my eyes. For a second, I'd forgotten that I came in to ask him for writing advice, not to admire his natural flawlessness.

When I reached the counter, he gave me a perfect smile. "Hey Camila, how's it going? Did you write anything?"

Well, he got straight to the point, didn't he? Even when he didn't mean to, he made sure I wasn't distracted. Couldn't I just admire his warm eyes for another minute?

I chuckled nervously, then played with the loose strands of hair beside my ear. I hadn't cared about my messy, wavy bun until now. "I did," I said.

"Oh, good." His beaming smile made me blush. When he moved his gaze from mine, switching his focus to the computer beside him, I kept my awkward smile, admiring him again. The even line of his faded beard, the perfect waves on top of his head. The simple single stud on his ear gleamed in the library's light. I could stand here and look at him for hours, swooning, drooling. His cologne was a definite plus.

He tapped enter on the keyboard before looking back at me with a cocked brow, grinning now. "Did you come here to write with the aesthetics?" He motioned to the shelves. "A lot of people have been coming to do that lately."

Curiosity ripped through me. "They have? Why?"

"The contest." He nodded at a small stack of flyers beside him. I hadn't noticed them, but I had carried the same paper with me for the past two days.

Reece leaned against the counter and pointed at it. "Did you forget?" he chuckled.

I shook my head. "Oh, no. I didn't know these were here. My friend got this for me."

"Right, you said that the other day." Both of Reece's brows lifted. A cute, innocent, humorous smile graced his face. "Um, is she, by chance, really happy?"

I snorted and scrunched my nose. Was this his polite way of asking if she was extra? I had to laugh.

"Sorry," he apologized, nervously smirking. "I only asked because—"

My brows lifted, too. "Because you're curious?" I loved a questioning mind. Like me. Hello.

"Well, yeah," he said, snorting through his nose. "And because, last weekend, a girl came in here—" He tapped a few letters on his keyboard. "—really happy about seeing the contest—" He hit enter. "—and said she knew her friend would be great for it." With a big smile, he faced me. "I'm wondering if that friend is your friend and if you're the person she has all the faith in."

My brows shrank. I frowned. Nancy thought that highly of me, huh? She felt this contest was for me and believed I could win. Yet here I was struggling. "I think it was her," I said quietly.

His smile softened. "It's good to have a supporter like that in your corner. She believes in you."

She did. Nancy was my complete opposite. Our personalities clashed. And yet, somehow, we developed this friendship and confided in each other. Thinking about it, I pushed loose strands of hair behind my ear.

"So, since you're here, want me to find you a table?" Reece turned and looked around the open, almost empty, library. "I can find you the perfect place to sit and—"

He was good at this—he saw an objective and sought a solution. I learned this after talking to him yesterday. I added this to the list of qualities I liked about him.

I pressed my hands flat in front of me. "I actually came here to talk to you."

Reece stopped and looked at me. Curious eyes again. I loved it. "Me?" he asked.

I nodded. "I reached a point in my story and..." I bit my lip. "I can't figure out how to move forward."

Hechuckled, slid his hand over his neck, and winked at me. "Oh? Say less," hesaid.