The Night Tournaments

6 - Claude

~ One Day Ago ~

I had read on the school activity calendar that the Writing Club had weekly meetings every Thursday after school. I didn't think that any of my friends were interested, not to mention that I wasn't at all confident in my writing skills, so there was a possibility that I might just back out of it after the first gathering.

. . . It was at least worth a try, though.

I walked into the Equinox Memorial Library and looked around, then saw a medium-sized group of people walking around on the large silent reading carpet.

I don't see anyone that I know, I thought, gulping. All of these people are probably genius writers, and here I am, hoping to make the cut with my baseless interest in fairy tales -

"Claude?"

I turned around and widened my eyes when I found myself face-to-face with Bree Campbell, who was looking at me with surprise.

"Bree, you're . . . joining the Writing Club?" I asked, letting my voice rise with hope.

"Yeah! I've been interested ever since the first day of school," Bree answered, grinning. "I didn't expect to see you here, though, Claude. I had no idea that you like writing!"

"Well . . . I do. Strangely enough," I told her, awkwardly scratching my head. I was super relieved that one of my friends was going to be accompanying me through this scary experience.

"So, what genre do you like to write?" Bree questioned as we joined the other students, and I turned bright red.

"F-fairy tales," I stammered, bashfully looking away. Oh, if only my life wasn't such a joke and a failure and -

"Cool."

"Huh?" I exclaimed, whirling around to stare at Bree. Had she really just said the word 'cool'?!

"I think that it's really cool that you like writing about fairy tales, Claude," she repeated, giving me an encouraging smile. "I personally love them, too. Reading them always makes me feel so nostalgic, and all of the magic that lives in them makes me think that there's more to life than most people are willing to believe. That maybe, just maybe . . . something as mysterious as magic could actually be real."

". . . Wow, that's deep," I said quietly, looking at Bree in awe. Then, I glanced off to the side, hesitating. "That's similar to the reason why I like them, too. I guess that you could say that I'm a sucker for escaping reality, but . . . it's nice sometimes, you know? Imagining a life that plays out exactly how you want it to is pretty fun, if I'm being honest. It actually makes you feel hopeful for a change."

"I know, right? I totally agree," Bree replied, laughing as she nudged my shoulder.

"Welcome to the first Writing Club meeting," Ms. Penelope announced as all of the students settled down on the carpet. "The first thing that I want to mention is that there's no pressure for any of you to be incredibly talented writers or whatnot. All I expect of you is that you attend each meeting with a positive mind, willingness to improve, and, most importantly, a sincere love for writing."

I let out a sigh of relief as the rest of the club obediently nodded. So, I guessed that I didn't really need to be some kind of amazing writer, after all.

"There will be many events for the Writing Club throughout the year, such as writing contests, school newsletter publishing opportunities, special author requests, and more," Ms. Penelope continued. "Since each gathering lasts until 4:30, the last thirty minutes will always be allocated to silent reading. So, with all of that said, your first assignment is to write any kind of descriptive poem. Please feel free to explore your creativity, and the topic is entirely up to your choice."