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Chapter 17

"It surely looks like it." He says as he pulls a notebook from his black backpack.

"I'm sure your story is already completed." I joked.

"Oh you are so right!" He exaggerates as he opens to a blank page in the notebook. "What ideas do you have so far?"

"I was thinking maybe writing about a big extravagant party in New York on New Year's Eve. Everything is going great until a team of masked men show up with automatic rifles. They won't leave until they find the three million dollar diamond that is supposed to be in a necklace around the hostess' neck. However, the hostess is nowhere to be found." I say the last part with as spooky of a voice as I can.

"You're dark. Now I have to change the whole dynamic of my story." He grabs a pencil from the pocket of his sweatshirt and starts to erase the empty page. I begin to laugh at his stupid attempt to be hilarious.

"What ideas did you have for the paper?"

"I was going to try and create something around a dream I had."

"Oh?" I question hoping that he would tell me more about this dream?

"It was a pretty weird dream. The only part that made any sense was a guy walking onto an elevator with a hard cased guitar and a backpack on his back." He stopped talking. I waited for him to tell me more about his plot for how he was going to make a story out of it.

When nothing more came of his dream, "What are you planning to do with that?"

"See that's the thing. I could take it in so many different directions. I could make it something that was not believable and say that this man was getting on an elevator to go and make a deal with the devil in exchange for a successful music career."

"And I'm the dark one?" I jokingly ask. "If you want my opinion, I would go with the first story that pops into your head. That is how I write all my stories. I don't try and think of something better. The first thing I think of I stick to it and just grow the plot from there."

"Do you write a lot?"

"Not really. I usually only write for my Creative Writing class."

"I'll take your method and see how that works out for me." I think he knew I was hesitant about going to Heaven again today so he didn't bring it back up. He sat on the opposite side of the table as he began to write words in his notebook. Every few minutes he would stop and place the eraser to his mouth as he seemed to reread the sentences he had just written. At the same time I had begun my own story typing on my laptop.

After about twenty minutes of just sitting there doing our own different things he stops me. "Let me see what you have written so far." He demands.

"What? No way. It isn't finished yet."

"So! I just want to read what you have so far."

"Fine, but you have to give me yours." With a little hesitation he gives in and hands me his notebook as he drags my laptop across the table. We sit in silence as we each read the opening paragraphs to the story plots we each dedicated to our assignments.

"This is looking good." He says as he slides the computer back across the table.

"Same. It's a unique twist to most the stories she'll probably be receiving. You're going to need to let me read it when you finish writing the whole thing."

"Geez. You're a needy one." I thin my eyes and tilt my head to his remarks. The bell rings signaling that the last class is about to start. "I guess that's my call." He says as he stands up from the bench and places the notebook back into his bag. He tosses the bag over his shoulder and turns around. I can't help but watch as he walks away.