The Romance Story

Chapter 10

I spun around in my giant business man chair until Samantha came in with the rough draft of the first eight chapters in my book. It was kind of exciting. I can't believe I am finally living my dream. She handed me a stack of papers and I flipped over the first page and saw what I thought should have been MY book but all the red markings covering the story told me that Samantha was going to do this her way. "what the heck is this?" I asked angrily as I flipped through all the pages, each one with more red on it then the last. "I made some changes that I thought would help." she said as she scanned a fresh copy. "look, I get that this is a rough draft but there is no way it's this rough." I read a paragraph at a random spot and I saw that it wasn't even about me and Dylan. I don't even know what this is about anymore! I rub my forehead to try and isolate my headache but every time I look up at Samantha it comes back with vengeance. "you know what. I can't do this. I can't do this if you keep taking my story and turning it into something it's not. It's my story not yours." I say. She just rolled her eyes. " you heard what your father said. Either we do this together or not at all. You think long and hard about that because there is no book with out me." she packed up her briefcase and left, slamming the door behind her. I fall back into my chair and grown. This is horrible. Why didn't my dad trust me enough to do this on my own?

I thanked Denis as he dropped me off at Dylan's hockey match. When I walked into the arena I quickly spotted Missy sitting in the front row. She smiled at me and showed me the sign she made. It read in big red letters "don't you wish your players were hot like ours?" I laughed out loud at that. She motioned for me to join her and I quickly walk over. "nice sign." I say. "thanks, made it just for you and your boyfriend." she pushes the sign into my hands then pulls out another one. "the definition of the word losers: the stupid looking people with a hawk on their shirt!"

"wow, how many signs do you have?" I ask. "one for every team we play for every sport. My dad is in the tee shirt business. He comes up with the design and saying for the shirts for Oscar Shirts." and that catches my attention. "your dad works for Oscar? That's insane! I love those shirts!" I exclaim. "doesn't everyone?" she asked.

I sat beside her and lifted my sign over my head as our hockey team came out. I cheered as loud as I could when I say Dylan. He waved to me and I blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket. I smile to myself and watch as the other team made their way on to the ice. Te second he took his eyes off me a new light started to shine through his eyes. But it wasn't his normal hockey light, it was actually more like a haze. Like he's distracted by something.

"Is Dylan ok? He seems a little off." Says Missy like she was reading my mind.

"yeah, I have no idea," I start to think about Denise too. How he has been acting strange the last week.

"My driver has been acting crazy too. And have you seen Coble anywhere? I thought he said he was going to be here tonight."

"Hm. Maybe it's that time of the month for all the boys in the world." says Missy . I stiffen a laugh as the game begins.

Dylan was off the entire game and lost 0-7. The worst score in 15 years. I waited by the locker room hoping to catch him, only to find out from the goalie that he went straight home. What was going on with him? Was it something I did? Oh no. Did he find about the story? Is he mad at me? Did he somehow see my rough draft of the book? All these thoughts raced through my mind as I sit in the back of my new convertible (my dad finally caved). I would just have to go see Dylan tomorrow morning to see what is wrong.

XOXO

I pulled up to Dylan's house and saw the strangest sight, Dylan, Kayla and Mrs. Maine all lined up in front of their house. As I got out of the car and made my way to him I say his bright red face and swollen eyes. His sister and mother matched. They had been crying. Dylan didn't know I was coming here so I don't think he found out about my book.