Anyhoo–click the link below to read about three teens in high school. Not sure if I really captured what I wanted in it, but I gave it a shot.

Her heart picked up speed, beating frantically beneath her ribs. Apparently it had gotten used to this routine over the last few months. When the clock hit 7:45AM, it was time to start getting anxious. Why? Because that’s when he walked right past her to his locker at the end of the hallway. His name was Devon Masters, and he was the most popular guy in school. The looks, the charm, the body of a god—he had it all. Every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. Or at least be his friend. This way they’d still get the girls, so they wouldn’t lose out too badly. He was the captain of the soccer team and currently Mallory’s reason for an upset stomach. He made her queasy just thinking about him, and she hadn’t quite figured out why. She’d started having these reactions to him during freshman year way back when. He’d just moved here, then, and everybody had fallen in love with him on sight. (Except her.) They couldn’t help themselves. (She didn’t get what the big deal was.) He was perfect. (Mallory kind of despised him.)

She listened for the laughter from the girls who always followed him around to tell her how close he was so she would know when to stick her head in her locker so Devon (or anyone else in the little pack that circled around him) would have no reason to look at her. Mallory thought those girls were like parasites. From the second he stepped through the doors in the mornings to the time he stepped through them when school let out, they were there, waiting for him, tittering like bubble-headed idiots. And Mallory only knew this because they made so much noise it was hard not to notice them. It wasn’t because her eyes were drawn to him like a moth to flame. No. No way. She wasn’t the kind of girl who clung to the person she liked. She kept her distance. Stayed away. Admired from afar. Devon Masters was too dangerous to react otherwise.

The laughter and voices drew nearer. She shuffled closer to the cold metal lockers and stuck her head as far inside as she could without looking like an idiot, though she probably did anyway. Anyone who tried to make themselves invisible by sticking their head in a locker would look like an idiot. But Mallory didn’t have time to care about it right now, because they were passing right by her and she had to act like she didn’t exist, and she knew that if she looked up and saw Devon smiling in that blasted way he always smiled, her eyes would follow him all the way down the hall and she’d get caught staring and then it would be all over the school that quiet, mousy Mallory liked the captain of the soccer team.

She didn’t like him, but if someone saw her staring after him, they’d think she liked him because apparently it was written somewhere that you couldn’t appreciate someone’s beauty without liking that person. Her life would be ruined. She would be a social outcast and laughed into her grave. And being laughed at in a supercilious way by someone as amazing looking as Devon Masters was not something she ever wanted to experience.

“Going to your magical place, are you?”

She jumped and hit her head against the side of the locker, which caused her to yelp and reach up to rub the stinging spot. She snatched the door nearly closed to glare at the stupid, idiotic dung brain who thought it would be a good idea to sneak up on her while she was trying to hide from the sharp eyes of The Popular Ones. Lucien’s angelic, grinning face greeted her from the other side.

“What?” she hissed, trying to maintain her glare without ruining it with tears of pain.

“What, what?” Lucien asked, eyes darting over her face.

Mallory barely resisted the urge to punch him. “You said something about a magical place,” she said grumpily and really fast. “What did you mean?”

Lucien’s brows shot nearly to his hairline. “Oh! Well, you were so engrossed with the inside of your locker; I thought maybe you were trying to escape through the back or something. You know, like in the movie.”

“That was a wardrobe,” Mallory said, shutting her locker and still glaring, “and no, I wasn’t trying to escape. I was…checking something.”

Lucien smirked at her and leaned against his locker. He glanced to the end of the hallway where Devon was laughing and talking with those around him, and back at her, a knowing look in his eyes. “Indeed,” he said in that tone of his that gave away the fact he was actually a smart guy. “Well, if you’re done with that, we should get to class, don’cha think?”

“But the bell,” Mallory began with a frown — brriiing! — “hasn’t rung yet,” she finished dejectedly.

Lucien beamed at her. “Walk with me?”

Mallory snorted. “Are you kidding? You’ve already violated like, ten major rules of high school just by being seen with me. I live in fear every day because of you,” she said playfully, even though the rules part was true. Popular boys (or girls) did not speak to the plebeians on the lowest rungs of the social ladder such as herself. Lucien tended to ignore that for the most part and somehow managed to keep his sparkling reputation blemish free.

Lucien scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that crap about rules. I’m above the rules, remember? And no one is going to vandalize your car just because you’re in the same air space as me.”

Mallory frowned at him the entire fifteen seconds it took to walk to homeroom. “The popularity is finally getting to you, isn’t it?”

“Mallory.”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

Since they just stepped inside the classroom, she did so, but not because Lucien told her to. No, she shut up because she forgot how to breathe. Devon was already inside, casually reclining in his chair, but that wasn’t the breath-stealing part. Not at all. What caused her lungs to cease functioning for too many heartbeats was the fact that Devon was looking at her…and he was smiling. She was so dead.

* * *

Later, it’s all Mallory can think of. It wasn’t an accident that he had looked straight at her. She was sure, because she’d looked behind her to see if one of his friends was straggling in behind her and Lucien to make sure she wasn’t overreacting for no reason, and there had been no one. No one but her. Devon freaking Masters had smiled specifically at her and she couldn’t figure out why! And there were lots of why’s she was trying to figure out. Like why had he suddenly decided to pay attention to her, and why had he smiled at her in homeroom where anyone could have seen? Okay, so there was only two why’s so far, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Her mind was just looping those two at the moment.

She sighed and rolled onto her stomach, grabbing her pillow and burying her face in it as she went. God, why did things like this happen to her? Had she been particularly evil in a past life? Was she being punished for sins committed centuries ago? She sat up suddenly, her eyes going wide with understanding. “Lucien,” she breathed, and almost fell off the bed in her haste to get to the phone and call up the rule-breaking, life-ruining, moron she called friend.

He picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Lucien Deveraux, this is all your fault!”

“What is my fault exactly?”

“He smiled at me, that’s what’s your fault!”

Lucien sighed. “Who smiled at you, and why is that something bad? People smile at you all the time. You smile back; it’s the way the world turns, sweetheart.”

Mallory wished, not for the first time, that she could reach through the receiver and strangle the blond boy who lived an entire three houses up from her. “Not when that person is Devon Masters, it isn’t.”

She heard the background noise diminish, which meant she had Lucien’s undivided attention. “When did Devon smile at you?”

“This morning when we walked into homeroom.”

“And you didn’t faint?”

“Very funny, Deveraux.”

“I thought so. Glad you agree with me.”

Mallory growled and tightened her grip on the phone. Then all the anger left her in a great whoosh and she fell back, spread-eagle, on her bed with one arm thrown over her eyes. “Lucien,” she whined. “This is serious. He smiled at me because you broke the rules.”

“What?” Lucien choked out with a laugh.

“You heard me. I told you not to hang around with me all the time. Popular kids like you are never supposed to mingle with the underlings. I tried to tell you this, but you just wouldn’t listen, and now look what’s happened!”

Lucien sighed. “You and your adherence to rules. One of these days, Mallory, you’re going to be a part of something that has no rules. What are you going to do then?”

Mallory snorted. “There’s no such thing in existence, Luc. Everything has rules. Everything.”

He chuckled softly and Mallory could imagine the sort of smile he had on his face as he indulged her. “If you say so. Now, are you through flipping mental tables, or do you need to yell at me some more?”

Mallory blew out a breath and let her arm flop down beside her. She blinked at the sudden brightness invading her retinas. “I don’t know. I just wish I could figure out why he smiled at me. He’s never even looked at me before, so why in the world did he hit me with a double whammy?”

“I thought he just smiled at you?”

“He did, but he looked at me to do so.”

The very distinct cackle that belonged only to Lucien, and could only be heard when he found something to be really funny, trickled into her ear, irritating her all over again.

“Luc,” she said in warning.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “I’ll stop. Ahem. So you’re trying to figure out why he smiled at you. Hmm.”

Mallory rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know what, never mind, Lucien. Forget I called and told you anything. Tomorrow we’ll get to school and everything will be normal and I can forget this whole thing even happened.”

“True. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”

“Later then.”

“G’night, Luc.”

Click.

* * *

School the next day was completely normal. Devon and the annoying herd of girls walked right past her that morning, like usual, and when she got to homeroom, Devon didn’t look at her, didn’t smile at her. It’s perfect. And Lucien didn’t even talk to her until lunch, so that made it even more perfect. Until seventh period. Then things went straight to hell.

Mallory blinked up at Mr. Murphey, her biology teacher, and currently the reason for her knotting stomach. “You want me to what?”

He sighed; one of those long suffering kind that tells you how much you are trying someone’s patience, and pointed to the slip of paper in his hand. “Take this to Devon Masters in room 302,” he said, enunciating slowly, like he was talking to an idiot or someone unfamiliar with the language. Pfft. As if that would help them understand any better.

But Mallory was neither an idiot, nor did she need to be reacquainted with the intricacies of the English language. She just needed him to repeat the question because she couldn’t possibly have heard him right, but as the knot in her stomach worsened at the mention of his name, she realized that yes, he had asked the impossible of her.

“B-but,” she spluttered, gesturing helplessly, “there are rules Mr. Murphey.”

Mr. Murphey arched his brow at her and rested his elbows on the desk. “Yes, there are, Miss Flynn, and most of them are for our own good, but I fail to see what rules have to do with you taking this note to Devon Masters in room 302.”

Mallory opened her mouth; to say what, she had no idea. She was probably going to tell him exactly what rules she was talking about, but then thought better of it when she realized it wouldn’t do her any good. She’d probably end up spending an afternoon in detention for it, but nothing good would come out of her pointing out the exact reasons a girl like her couldn’t take a simple note to someone like Devon. She shook her head, her expression no doubt one of abject misery–or close to it. “Nothing, sir. I’ll take it right away.”

He held out the note and she took it from his knobby fingers and walked out of the classroom, a sense of dread following her through the halls. And wouldn’t you know that the hallways would be completely deserted save for her and the squeak of her sneakers on the polished floor, so she had no choice but to bring Devon the note herself. Each step that brought her closer to where he was probably being bored to death by Mrs. Swanson’s mind-numbing math teaching felt like they should be her last, like they were taking her down death row. When she got to room 302 she knocked twice before walking in and going straight to Mrs. Swanson’s desk. “I have a note for Devon Masters from Mr. Murphey.”

She didn’t look at anyone, not even Mrs. Swanson. She just waited for someone to take the darn piece of paper out of her hand so she could get back to class and act like she hadn’t upset the natural order of the cosmos. However, the universe decided not to be kind to her (probably because it thought she needed the lesson hammered home), as Mrs. Swanson said, “He’s not here, dearie. He’s on the field, practicing.” Mallory’s head snapped up just in time to see Mrs. Swanson grinning from ear to ear at her. “Gotta be in tip-top shape for the game this Friday, right? Go Lions!”

Mallory wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “Thank you,” she said weakly, and left the room. She muttered and cursed beneath her breath the whole way to the field, which normally felt like it took an hour to get to, but now it seemed five minutes would do nicely. She really did not want to be out here right now, not when the soccer team was practicing. They liked to take their shirts off, and a shirtless Devon was not something she wanted visuals of. Sighing, she hurried onto the grass, keeping her eyes downcast so she wouldn’t be tempted to glance over to where the guys were running laps. She heard raised voices, but ignored them since it was just the team yelling to each other…but she really should have been paying more attention, because when she looked up not a minute later, her face was uncomfortably introduced to the mean side of a hurtling soccer ball.

Pain exploded inside her skull, making her eyes feel like they were going to burst from the sockets, but her nose had caught the brunt of it. She pulled back the hand she’d automatically plastered over the abused area the second it felt like her face split open, and found it covered with blood. She sighed and spat out a mouthful of blood. She’d busted her lip, too, which was just fantastic, really.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked, sounding genuinely concerned. A very familiar voice. A voice she did not want to be hearing. She whimpered to herself and glanced up to see Devon coming towards her, looking worried.

Mallory held the note out. “From Mr. Murphey,” she explained when he didn’t take it. He frowned and finally looked at her hand where she was kind of stupidly waving the slip of paper around. He took it without a word, then looked back at her and Mallory swallowed, uncaring that more blood had collected in her mouth and she’d just sent it down her throat. She was too busy staring. Devon’s eyes were this impossible shade of blue that just kind of commanded you to stare at them for too long periods of time, and as much as she wished she could say she was immune, sadly, she couldn’t.

He chuckled then, breaking her from her stupid daydreaming. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Huh?” she asked dumbly.

He gestured to her face, looking like he wasn’t quite sure how to say something. “You…. There’s a lot of blood.”

Mallory groaned and squeezed her eyes shut even as she put both hands over her face to cover everything from her nose down. She turned around faster than she ever had before and started off in the direction she’d come from, nearly at a full-out run. Christ, she thought. Couldn’t even one thing go right? Had she upset the balance that badly? Apparently she had, since Devon was following her; a fact she became aware of only when he called out to her.

“Hey, wait up!”

She walked faster. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your help,” she told him, hoping he’d actually go back to practicing and leave her to wallow in her humiliation alone.

“At least let me walk you back,” he said, falling into step beside her. And here she’d thought she’d been running. Darn his long legs.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “No thanks.”

“Too bad. I’m coming anyway.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else to her on the return trip. He did, however, follow her to the bathroom, which wasn’t really surprising, but irritated her just that much more. She spun around to face him with a glare; one that was probably ruined due to her hand still covering the bottom portion of her face, but she didn’t care about that right now. “What the hell are you doing?” is what she wanted to know. “This is the girl’s bathroom, in case you forgot how to read.”

He cracked a grin. “In what country?”

Mallory looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “This one. Duh. Now go away.”

He was laughing now. Great. He pointed to the sign to her right and her eyes followed. The generic stickperson that stood for ‘boy’ stood out against the blue background. Mallory glared at it even as her face started to burn with embarrassment and she stalked all ten or so steps out of the boy’s bathroom, and to the left to the girl’s.

“Now it is,” she called over her shoulder.

“And no one else is around,” he said stubbornly, following behind her. She whirled around to pin him with the biggest glare ever. Even Lucien hadn’t seen this one, and Lucien had borne the brunt of many of her glares, since he was the cause of most of them.

But unlike Lucien, Devon didn’t back down, and he had this look in his eyes that Mallory had only ever seen when he was on the field. It was the look that said you’ve already lost, and it was directed solely at her. She now understood why he was the team’s ace. He broke the opposing team’s resolve one player at a time with that look.

Too bad it wasn’t going to work today.

“Why did you follow me?”

“Because it’s my fault you have a busted nose.”

She arched her brow.

Devon cleared his throat and had the sense to look awkward. “I, uh, I’m the one who missed the kick, hence the reason the ball hit you. I’m sorry.”

Mallory lifted both brows slightly. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Apology accepted. Now will you leave me to suffer alone through the extreme embarrassment of having blood drip everywhere while the most popular guy in school talks to me? In the girl’s bathroom, no less.”

The look in his eyes hardened, but his expression remained relaxed. He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Tell me something first.”

“What?” she asked, aggravated.

“Why don’t you like me?”

Mallory blinked up at him. Of all things she expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. “I have to wash my face,” she said quickly and retreated on shaking legs into the bathroom where she stayed until the bell rang, and even then she didn’t leave until the noise in the hallway died down. She did not want to chance running into Devon ’cause then she’d have no choice but to answer his stupid question.

Why the hell had he even asked that, anyway? How could he possibly figure she didn’t like him when they’d never spoken a word to each other before today? Was it that big a deal to him to realize there was the possibility that not every female in school was panting after him and trying to get his attention?

She shoved her locker closed and headed down the hall without paying attention to where she was going. Her thoughts were all in a muddle right then, and she just wanted to go home and lock herself in her room.

Lucien was waiting for her at the school’s entrance, which meant she would get no time to think on the way home. He moved from his slouching position against the jamb when he saw her coming, took one look at her bloodstained shirt and the redness of her face and whistled low. “Who’d you get in a fight with and why wasn’t I invited?”

Mallory chuckled derisively. “You didn’t miss anything, Luc. I got plowed in the face with a soccer ball.”

Lucien cringed in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it was terrible.”

He slung his arm across her shoulders as they left the building and headed towards the parking lot where Mallory’s car was. “So, cookie dough ice-cream at my place, then?” he asked.

Mallory gave him a small smile. “Sounds great.”

“Thought so,” Lucien replied with a smirk. “And while we’re pigging out on junk food, you can tell me what you said to put Devon in such a foul mood.”

Mallory felt her stomach lurch and struggled to act like she had done nothing. “Who said it was me?” she asked while trying not to avoid Lucien’s eyes for too long.

He clicked his tongue. “Sneaky is my middle name, or did you forget?”

“No it isn’t. It’s Andreas.”

Lucien scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being a smart-ass. The point,” he stressed, “is that I saw you, so you aren’t going to be able to get out of this.”

Mallory looked at him defiantly. “Then you should know what I said. There was no one else in the hall when we were talking, so there wasn’t any noise to drown me out.”

“Seeing is not hearing, dearest,” Lucien said with a tilt of his head.

“Then you should learn how to read lips.”

Lucien only sighed. He sighed a lot on the way home, too, but Mallory didn’t take the bait. She wasn’t saying a word until she had at least half a bowl of ice-cream in her belly. But the stars must not have been in the correct alignment for such an occurrence, because Lucien got a text on the way to his house that put a damper on their plans.

“Damn. Can’t do ice-cream today, Mal. The parentals need me to cover tables at the restaurant. You feel like giving me a ride there?”

Mallory was already switching lanes. “Sure, but you owe me a movie to make up for it.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Mallory didn’t sleep much that night. For some reason, trying to come up with the answer to Devon’s question kept her awake.

* * *

School the next day was not nearly as normal as the day before, even with the whole meeting with Devon thing. From the minute she walked through the doors and down the hall to her locker, something felt off. It was only when she was sitting in homeroom that she realized the reason for it. Devon didn’t come to school. Mallory couldn’t recall a single day since starting high school that he hadn’t been there.

That put her in a funk. She hardly paid attention in class and Lucien’s usual nagging banter did nothing to draw her out of it. It bugged her. Severely. Any other time she would have cared less if he didn’t come to school, but ever since he’d asked that stupid question, it buzzed in her head, driving her crazy. It was all she could think about–and it had only been a day for crying out loud! But maybe it wasn’t so much the question and the fact that Devon had asked it, but the fact that she couldn’t come up with an answer that was driving her out of her mind.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. It was only hours after she got home from school that she decided to call Lucien and whine to him about it.

“I’m going to start charging money for every time you call me,” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Why?” Mallory asked with a frown.

“Because. You only call me when you need advice or guidance or whatever. I’m like your free shrink. That’s gotta stop.”

Mallory snorted. “In your dreams, Deveraux. You’re my friend. My best friend at that. That’s why I call you for all the stupid things most girls tell their girlfriends.”

Lucien sighed. “Fine. I won’t charge you. Now what is it you want?”

“It’s driving me crazy, Luc.”

“What is?”

“That stupid question, that’s what!”

“What question?”

“The one Devon asked me yesterday when you saw us talking.”

“You mean the one you didn’t tell me about?”

Oh. “Yeah, that one,” she said sullenly.

“Why don’t you fill me in on the conversation and then we’ll see if I can help you figure this out.”

So she did. Mallory told Lucien everything from the second Mr. Murphey told her to bring Devon the note, to the minute the bell rang at the end of school. Lucien didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “Mallory…what I’m about to tell you, you might not agree with, but please don’t scream me deaf, okay?”

She sighed. “I’ll try not to, but I can’t make any promises.”

Lucien grunted. “Whatever. My analysis is this: You like Devon. Like, in the boyfriend way.”

Mallory frowned. “What? How does that explain why I can’t figure out an answer to his question?”

“Because you don’t not like him.”

“Huh?”

“Oh my God, Flynn, do not be dense about this!” A harsh sigh filtered through the receiver and settled in her ear. “Devon asked you why you didn’t like him. You can’t come up with anything. You don’t even know why he would ask that in the first place, though in my opinion it’s because you’re always giving him the stink eye when he looks at you. And yesterday when you said he smiled at you, what did you do?”

“It was the day before yesterday,” she corrected, “and I didn’t do anything. Well. Maybe I looked at him funny. Or something. How the hell should I know?! I can’t see my expressions without a mirror!”

“See? Then yesterday when he was talking to you on the field, you totally acted like he was scum beneath your shoes.”

“I did not!” Mallory protested heatedly. She sat up on her bed, brows drawn in a scowl, but Lucien continued talking like she hadn’t interrupted him. “Then you were giving him hell in the bathroom, when the only thing he was doing was making sure you were okay. He did say he felt bad that you were hurt on account of him.”

“What does any of this have to do with the answer, Luc?”

“It’s because of your stupid rule thing that you have in your head. You think you can’t like someone who’s popular because it goes against the sacred laws of high school. What do you think rules are for, Mal?”

She gritted her teeth.

“To be broken. Especially these. I bet the people who created them did it just to see how many people would rise up to the challenge.”

“But…I don’t like Devon!” she said forcefully.

“What do you do every morning, Mallory? You wait for him to walk by you and you pretend not to notice, but the second you think he’s not paying attention, you watch him. God, it’s so obvious!”

Mallory remained mute as Lucien’s words twisted and looped through her mind as she tried to make sense of them and see what he so clearly saw. And then she realized that he was right. Sort of. But could she really have had a crush on Devon this whole time and not understood it for what it was? Or was she just in denial? She worried her bottom lip between her teeth a full minute before telling Lucien she had to go, and she hung up the phone. She lay back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling as the sun steadily made its descent, bathing her room in a golden hue as twilight fell.

This was ridiculous.

And maybe Lucien was right. Maybe she needed to stop putting so much stock in rules that had no real reason for being followed. And maybe she really did like Devon. Maybe she’d liked him all these years but was too scared to call it that for fear of breaking a stupid rule.

Maybe it was time for her to start living life by her own rules, and even though the idea of it was more than scary, she got out of bed and went downstairs, calling to her parents who were in the kitchen that she’d be back in a little while, then she got in her car and drove. She didn’t stop until she got to Devon’s house, and when she left from there, it was with a smile on her face and the tingle in her lips a heady reminder that the kiss they’d shared was very real.

* * *

It was all over school the next day: mousy Mallory Flynn was going out with the captain of the soccer team. Lucien was the first to rub it in Mallory’s face and congratulate her on rules well broken, because he was such a good friend and all. But what he didn’t celebrate, the thing he hid so well, was the pieces of his broken heart that he’d picked up and bundled away the second Mallory had called him back last night and told him he was right, and that Devon liked her back. It was the worst feeling in the world, but not unexpected.

He’d chosen not to take the risk of confessing his true feelings to his best friend, so it only made sense that he’d have to suffer the consequences and see her being all happy and smiling with another guy. And like Mallory, Lucien had a few things to learn, as well. But hey. He’d suffered these unrequited feelings for years now. A little while longer wouldn’t hurt him.

(c) Brianna Somersham 2012

I’ve been gone a long time, haven’t I? Not too much has happened aside from the myriad story ideas that show up right when I’m in the middle of working on something else. LOL. I don’t mind all that much, really. It’d be worse if they didn’t come at all, you know?

That big monster of a novel I’m supposed to be working on is not going as quickly as I want or hoped it would, but it’s not not going either. Since it’s not going to be finished anytime this month, I’m afraid you guys won’t get to read it yet. I know, I has a sad face too.

The reason it’s not done despite the fact that I’ve had six months to work on it is because I spent a good portion of the time set aside for writing it flip-flopping over what I was going to write about. First I was all geared up to write about a saucy female sky pirate (steampunk anyone?) who held the key to a secret treasure, but that fell through after I got aggravated at my mom for putting me through the paces of what needed to be fixed for it to make sense and reasons for things. (If it makes sense in my head, can’t that be good enough?) So I chucked it to the back of my mind to be worked on in my own time and done my own way without worrying the outside world would see it.

Then there was an idea that I gave up on after the second chapter because I couldn’t get my head around the characters and I’d pretty much botched the first chapter anyway. I didn’t see it going anywhere. So then I played around in my head with the idea of completely giving up. I’d come on here and give you all a fail post detailing the many reasons why I couldn’t write a novel even though I really wanted to, and the reasons abound. Or should I say the excuses abound?

There really isn’t anything standing in my way except myself. I know how to write. I think I write pretty darn good, and sure, my stuff could use some polishing, but whose doesn’t? Everything I put up here for those challenges I was doing with my uncle were put up raw, so you guys got what came straight out of my brain and put to the page the first time around. And you liked it. And I’m so glad you did, because even just one person saying they like my work is enough encouragement to keep me going. So thank you. It means a lot.

That’s not to say I think you’d read just anything I put up, because I don’t. But those story pieces weren’t meant to be polished and shined. They were meant to be raw. It was a challenge, after all.

I’m not giving up on this story I’ve got going, in case that thought was tumbling around in your heads. No way am I going to stop. I’m going to push through until the very end for this one. I’ve got plenty lined up for after it’s done, too, so you guys won’t see the last of me anytime soon.

Now for a complete shift in topic. I went to Barnes&Noble this past weekend with my grandma and the very uncle I write the challenges with. We spent about 2 hours looking around at stuff and I was about to say the heck with it and leave without getting anything because I couldn’t find a single thing that held my interest for more than a second. Initially I was thinking about getting some manga, but didn’t because I didn’t have enough moolah on me to get all of the volumes of the series I wanted. Black Butler, in case you were wondering.

I glanced over the Teen section, then I was looking through the Romance section. Nothing caught my eye, which wasn’t a big surprise. Nothing coming out of that genre has ignited a burning need for me to buy anything for a long time, and that is very sad indeed. So I decided to look around at the Sci-fi and Fantasy. A pique of interest, but nothing solid enough to get me to make that final decision to actually buy anything. So I moseyed on over to the Fiction & Literature section to look for something I knew I’d love. I grabbed up The Vampire Lestat as soon as my eyes caught sight of it…but I still had to look around some more. Just in case.

I found myself once again in the Teen section, and just to let you know: I generally despise anything coming out of that niche because the female characters are so dang whiny! I get that they’re teenagers and are going through stuff, but my God, you don’t have to be a mess about every little thing that happens.

Anyhoo…I found this particular book sitting on the very bottom of one of the shelves, only one by that author there. I picked it up. The cover was just creepy-interesting enough to have me turning to the back cover and giving the blurb a read.

I was hooked. But more than a little hesitant to buy it. (1)Because it was an author I’ve never read before, and (2) because it was a dreaded Teen novel. I hate buying a book that I think will have so much to offer only to be sorely disappointed to the very end of the story. I put it back at least twice, thinking I’d be better off without it, and that it would most likely turn into a space taker and I’d want to throw it out as soon as I was finished with it, provided I even got that far.

I bought it.

Read it in a few hours and had those tingles of ewww a few times. I loved it. The only complaint I have about it is that I felt it could have had more in it. A little more character background, but other than that, it was well worth the money I paid for it. And it isn’t about a girl! It’s about a boy! I love that! LOL!

It’s not a romance. Not sunshine and rainbows. Not anything that’s comfortable. It’s kinda gross and kinda creepy. Did I mention I loved it? hehe

The Replacement is the title, Brenna Yovanoff is the author, and I can’t remember how to insert images into blogposts, so you just get the title and author for now. Give it a try. I’m letting my younger brother read it right now. Hopefully he’ll like it, too. Funny story: He was going to buy it before, but he was .58 cents short of having enough to order it. Ain’t it funny how things work out like that?

Hmm. How to end this… Well, I’ve told you that my story isn’t finished yet, but that it will be, and that I found a good story after being uninterested for so long. Umm, oh! Unrequited Feelings…didn’t get finished either. LOL. I know I said it would, but it didn’t. I’ll try to have it up soon. Maybe. We’ll see how things go.

In the meantime, I will be writing when I’m not distracted by the pretty boys in SHINee, Infinite, and EXO. Annnnnnd, that’s about it. I haven’t disappeared, and am still writing, and I hope you guys are doing good and haven’t given up on me.

Laters~
Bri

I know it’s late, but the day isn’t over. lol I woke up late, had a late night. Santa brought me lots of goodies, though. Notebooks and pens are like gold and diamonds to this writer. Anyway, just wanted to stop by and wish you all a Merry Christmas. I hope it was fun, no matter how you celebrated, or even if you didn’t.

Hmm. I really don’t have much to say. lol Oh! Story stuffs! Erm, remember how a few months ago I said I’d be writing about pirates? Well, that’s changed. So, no pirates. My ideas swirl and morph, going from one thing to another. But it’s all good. Because that means they’re leading me to better things, which means a better story for you all to read. I am writing though, so you don’t need to worry about me bailing on you.

Um, I should have that final shorty up in a few weeks, so be on the lookout. Have a good day!

Bri