Making It (On Hold Indefinitely)

0.2

0.2

I lurch forward in my seat with the sudden jerking of the car. The steaming hot coffee in my hands to spill violently over the rim of the cup and dribble down my chin instead of flowing semi-peacefully into my mouth and down my throat. A bit afraid that I nearly spill a drop on my laptop, I settle the cup into it's previous spot in the cupholder and return back to the document on my screen. I barely get to look over one word before I'm lurching forward again. This time my torso is thrust over the screen of my computer, seatbelt digging into my neck. 

A bit annoyed I turn my narrow eyed gaze towards Brooke. She stares innocently off into the distance of the open road, pretending she's not putting our lives in danger. Glaring at her for a few seconds longer I return to my laptop. I press the down arrow key once only to lurch forward again. My laptop slides forward, slams shut against the glove box, falls to the floor and slams against my toes all before I can grab a hold of it.

"Okay, what the hell!?" I turn back towards Brooklyn, narrowed eyes and all. Sagging her shoulders, she glances over at me. Now she doesn't look at all innocent, bored is more the emotion I would use to describe her.

"I was hoping you'd leave work at home." She answers back, checking her mirrors before flicking on her blinkers to get off on the upcoming ramp. Even though there's no one on the road with us for miles.

"I did. Can't bring the diner with me." I huff, reaching down to grab my laptop. I dust it off before debating on whether or not I should open it again. I shake my head, noting how tired my eyes are and stuff it into my book bag. Plus even with my brightness down one away from being all the way, it was still leaving the glare on the window and I doubt Brooke can see her sideview mirror very well. 

"I meant your other work. That stupid story. You know ever since you agreed to re-visit it, that's all you ever do in your freetime anymore. Unless Taylor's in the picture." Her tone is understandably bitter. I nod my head as if to say I know where she's coming from, because I do.

This story has become my life. If I wasn't vide chatting with Taylor, I was completely absorbed into my laptop. I wanted it to be perfect, to represent my true talent and seeming that I'm not really a writer I was discovering it as I go. 

"You're right." I admit truthfully. "I do spend all my time on this story. But you have to understand, with you in class and Taylor on tour I'm in the apartment by myself doing nothing." Now it's my turn to be bitter, more so towards myself than Brooke. I chose not to go to school, it just wasn't something I saw myself doing for four more years. So it was my own fault that I sit in the apartment bored. 

"You chose not to go to school." She points out and I huff.

"Yes, I did." I nod once again. "I picked up this project to give me something to do. I never expected it'd take up all my time." Slumping in my seat I press my fingers against my forehead, closing my eyes. "I've never met anyone with a stick shoved so far up their ass, that they have to make other people miserable." I grumble, feeling a headache brewing just thinking about my editor.

The days I worked with her assistant were blissful. Nice chats on the phone that didn't leave me on the verge of tears. I actually felt like my writing was good when I talk to Nora – the assistant. The she dragon herself however. I was starting to feel like the only reason she agreed to help get me published is because she's friends with my old creative writing teacher Mrs. Palmer. If it weren't for her connections my manuscript would have been chucked in the trash without a second thought.