Writer Divided

Prologue

I walked past the large book store ignoring the lights, glaring posters, and Salvation Army bells. I pulled my hat tighter over my head, and tugged at my gloves a bit. The city was beautiful during winter, but unfortunately the temperature was not. I could feel my face getting hotter the longer I was outside in the cold, and my fingers getting a little more numb. I pulled my coat tight.

The coat was so tight, it was restricting my breath. I walked into the small book store, which had dim lights, a train set, and books in every corner. I strolled in casually. "Val! How nice to see you!" Ms. Savannah Daniels called. I smiled at her. "Hi, Ms. Savannah," I greeted her.

She was an old woman. She was most certainly well into retirement age, but not so old that you feared she would even remember she owned a book store. Ms. Savannah had long blonde hair, which turned silver in her years. She was a petite woman with not much to her. She had a relatively small and fragile body. Her eyes were a slight green with much more brown than anything. She had married twice, but only had one daughter, whom I only knew by the name Sienna.

Ms. Savannah snatched a book off of shelf. She gave it one quick glance before handing it to me. "Keep it, honey, its got a coffee stain on it. I can't sell it," She told me. She always gave me the books that were stained, or had been read to much, or were simply not drawing enough sideways glances. I smiled with a half smile. It wasn't much, but I appreciated it.

"Any special guys?" She asked. This was a frequent question. Ms. Savannah never waited a second or two before letting it fly out of her mouth. Consistently, the answer was no. "Much to busy, Ms. Savannah," I told her.

"But what about that man whose always coming into this store? He always picks up a book at about 3:00 every afternoon," She said.

"Strangely enough, I don't know who he is," I replied, picking up a book.

"His name is Nicholas. He's quite attractive," She said. I laughed a small giggle before looking at the book she handed me. "Remy Fantisma," I read aloud. Ms. Savannah smiled before searching for another book.

"That's her first book, The Phantom. It's quite breathtaking," She told me. I smiled and brushed back a cow lick that was constantly getting in my face. I opened my purse to hand her a copy of the book. The copy I owned was the very first I had published. "I know it is. I'll trade you. This copy for this copy," I told her.

Ms. Savannah smiled and took the copy. "Thank you, Valentine. I'll be sure to sell it for an extra buck or two," She said. I smiled and picked up Pride and Prejudice. "I'm looking for something to send my cousin in France. She's never read a classic. I think I'll get this, Ms. Savannah," I told her.

Ms. Savannah walked me up to the counter. "How about $5.55 for you?" she asked. I nodded before hearing the all to familiar ring of the bell at her door. "Ms. Savannah. I'll be needing a copy of The Phantom quickly," A man said. I turned quickly to see a tall man, thin, and with styled brown hair. He had thick rimmed glasses.

"Hello, I'm Nick," He said walking towards me. I smiled and fixed my glasses. "Valentine Winter," I told him. "Valentine? Like the holiday?" He asked. I frowned and grabbed The Phantom. "Here you go. And its Valentine like the Saint," I told him.

"I like that. Thanks for the book," He said, and dropped $19.00 on the counter, smiled and walked away.

I stared for a moment. "Cute, huh?" Ms. Savannah asked quickly. "Yeah. But not enough time," I said leaving. Ms. Savannah smiled and laughed as I walked out the door waving to her. I walked past the huge bookstore, gave it a quick glance, and hailed for a taxi.

***

Saturday the Second

Chapter 1

Rachel walked the halls. She stopped at her locker, took a single glance at the lock, and then opened her locker with only a few swift twists of the wrist. At the sight dusty mess, she let out a deep sigh.

"Freeman!" She heard someone call. She turned right to see a tall teenage boy running towards her. He swept her up by her waist and she hugged him tight.

"Windsor!" She cheered hugging her friend.

I stopped and stared at computer. Not a good choice. I can't write teen fantasy. I rubbed my eyes, and took a sip of my coffee. I made a poor decision buying a bed, since half the time I fall asleep at my desk. I stared at the bottom of my bed jealously before turning my classical music up. I had a small lofty apartment, and I had a loft bed. The type with a desk under it. I closed the laptop and leaned back in the chair. I pressed my hand against my forehead and took a deep breath.

Immediately, I stood up and unleashed my jealously on the bed, by climbing up it and going to sleep. That would show it.