Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
MELLIE
My bed misses you…
Your bed, or you?
Both of us. When can we have another sleepover?
Just got off work… already on my way to you
Door’s open, I’ll be waiting.
May 12
We should have a song.
You know, a song that’s “ours”
Good idea… something romantic, like I’m Yours or something
I was thinking more along the lines of Love Talk by WayV
…
Is that one of your kpop groups
Just listened to the english version.
I approve of this song choice.
lmao I was kidding but maybe we should pick it anyway
Imagine one day we get married and that’s the song that plays while we dance lolol
I like the idea of you imagining our wedding, not gonna lie
But that would certainly be an awkward moment to explain to the grandkids
Somehow for us that tracks
May 23
Your ass looks great in those jeans today
Are you stalking me
I just happened to be passing by when you were standing on that ladder a little bit ago
Great view
Where can I leave my customer satisfaction feedback? You have a comment card box somewhere inside?
I know exactly where you can leave it later tonight.
There’s my girl.
“Last one!”
Bree’s voice carries across my new empty living room as she kicks the front door closed with her foot, dropping a box atop the pile stacked against the wall.
I survey the room, hands on my hips. “Not bad, guys. We made great time.”
Ronin’s arms snake around my waist from behind, his lips finding the sensitive spot on my neck, sticky with sweat from the exertion. I giggle as he finds his mark, ticklish.
“Hey, we agreed no PDA ‘til after we were done moving you in,” Bree protests. “Otherwise, we’d get nothing done with you two fawning all over each other.” Brooklyn wraps an arm around her girlfriend’s petite frame and pulls her in for a loud kiss.
“Mmhmm, you were saying?” I tease. Ronin’s arms tighten around my waist.
“Ugh, all of you happy couples are really bumming me out,” Sydney says from her spot in the kitchen.
“I really need a man, stat.” She picks up her paper plate full of pepperoni pizza and plops down on the living room floor, digging in.
“But like, later. Right now, this pizza is doing things for me.”
Laughing, I untangle myself from Ronin’s arms. “Sorry I don’t have a table yet.” I help myself to a slice of pizza. “That’s on my agenda for my next day off.”
I donated my table and couch when I moved from LA, not wanting to put them in storage since I was unsure of how long I’d need the storage unit. Thankfully, my parents let me take their guest room bed since it used to be mine anyway. One less thing I need to shop for.
I take a seat on the floor across from Sydney, the rest of the group settling into spots around us with their dinner. “I can’t thank you guys enough for helping me move today,” I say around a bite. “Not that I have that much stuff, but still. I appreciate you guys.”
Brooklyn holds up a slice of pizza. “Hey, when you pay me with food, I’m in,” she says.
“So, was Mama Baker sad to see you go?” Bree asks, taking a huge bite.
“Ha, no. I think her and Dad were eager to have the house to themselves once more.” I don’t let myself consider why. “And I’m so happy to have my own space again. This is the biggest place I’ve ever rented.”
“You got a great deal, Mel,” Ronin adds. “It’s really nice. Clean, too.”
I nod. “The owners used it as an Airbnb before this, so they took great care of the place. I was thrilled when I saw it listed for rent.”
The day I walked past the little white house, dark wood-panel accents charming me from the sidewalk, I had immediately called Blue Field’s realtor, Chloe, and she met me there that day for a showing. My application was in by evening’s end, and now, a month later, here we are.
After supper, the girls leave, promising to come back as soon as I’m unpacked and ready to “break it in” with a house party, as Bree put it. She and Brooklyn recently hosted their own, since Brooklyn finally moved in. It was about damn time, as we all very nicely informed her.
Ronin has already set up my TV in the living room, so we gather together my pillows and bedding and make an impromptu bed against the wall, snuggling in to watch a movie.
As I sip my glass of the crisp white wine—a house warming gift courtesy of Sydney—I scan the empty space, nothing in here except us and the boxes containing everything I own.
I glance at the kitchen and dining room, already envisioning girls' nights to come.
Bree, Brooke, Sydney, Cat and I crowded around the table with plates of food and bottles of wine.
Surveying the living room, I picture Ronin and I snuggled up under a cozy blanket once I find a couch, watching TV together like we are right now.
Ronin catches my gaze, and I smile.
“I’m really happy,” I say, leaning in to kiss him.
His dimples wink as he smiles widely. “Me, too, babe.”
June is my favorite month of the year.
There’s something about seeing rainbows take over the world for the whole thirty days that makes my little bisexual heart so happy. Our small town has gone all out this year, Pride displays in nearly every storefront along Main Street. I’ve never been more proud of my fellow townspeople.
I call out goodnights to the last of the teens leaving the bookstore as I flit around the table we had set up for our youth Pride Dungeons and Dragons game night.
I’d spent most of the month of May planning this project, wanting to give the local LGBTQIA+ youth community a safe space, talking to more teenagers than I did when I was the one in high school.
I gather up the last of the books, stacking them up next to my giant bag of dice, and then roll up the battlemap and tuck it under an arm.
“Well, that was a huge success!” I turn to Sydney, beaming. “They all seemed to love it, don’t you think?”
“I think that was one of the nerdiest things I’ve ever watched you do, and by now, I’ve seen a lot. But yes, they loved it.” Sydney puts down the book she was reading. “You were really laying it on thick for those guys.”
Laughing, I place the bag of dice on top of the stack of Player’s Handbooks and pick the whole thing up. “I wanted them to get the full experience, cheesy Dungeon Master and all.”
“Well, I’d certainly say you succeeded there,” Sydney teases. “So this will be a monthly occurrence, then? Asking so I can make myself scarce for these shifts.”
Rolling my eyes, I drop my pile of supplies behind the front desk, and bump her hip with my own as I stand. “Don’t act like you don’t love every second of this. I know you’ve got a hidden nerdy bone somewhere in there.” I smirk at her as she grimaces.
“Sadly, I think you might be right.” She glances down at herself, frowning. “Your dorkiness is catching.”
“All part of my master plan.” I throw in an evil villain laugh that elicits a snort from her.
Sydney disappears into the rows of shelves, and not a moment after I situate myself behind the front desk, the door flies open. Ronin barrels inside, his phone in hand. My stomach drops to the floor as I realize what else today is.
The short story contest results are in.
Ronin strides up to the counter, not letting his expression give anything away. He places his phone screen-up on the surface, spinning it so that it faces me.
“Good news, or bad?” My stomach is a beehive of buzzing nerves. It’s like a fucking three-ring circus in there.
Ronin nods to his phone. “Just look.”
I pick up his phone and slowly scan for the results. They were posted five minutes ago on the library website. Ronin must have been refreshing the page all day to have gotten them so quickly.
My eyes fly over the words, skimming down to where the finalists are listed. Second and third place are a blur of text, and I zero in on the last line.
First place, Amelia Baker, Blue Fields.
My hand flies up to my mouth as I gasp, and Ronin can’t contain himself any longer. He rushes around the counter and lifts me into a huge bear hug, my feet leaving the floor as he twirls me around.
“You did it, baby!” he says into my ear, his arms tight around my waist. “I am so fucking proud of you, Mel! I knew you could do this.”
He places me back on my feet and I lean into him. His mouth claims mine and for a moment, I forget I’m standing in the middle of the place I work and sadly not in the privacy of my new bedroom. My hands roam up his back as I pull him closer to me before I hear a throat clearing lightly behind us.
I pull away, peeking over Ronin’s shoulder to see Sydney standing behind us with an armful of books and a smirk on her face. “Should I give you guys the room, or…?”
“Shut up.” I shoot her my middle finger before stepping a proper distance away from Ronin. “I placed first in that short story contest.” Even as I say it out loud, I can’t believe the words are true. I actually won?!
“Oh, damn girl! Congrats!” Syd high fives me before setting the pile of books down on the front counter. “Totally knew you’d kill it. You can thank me in your acknowledgements when you write your book now.”
I try to pinch her, but Syd dodges my attack before pulling me into a brief hug. “I can’t believe it,” I admit, running my palms down my cheeks. “It feels a little surreal at the moment.”
Ronin leans on the counter, his hair falling over his black-framed glasses, blue eyes shining with pride. “Come over tonight to celebrate.”
He clasps my hand in between both of his, his thumbs running over the top of my knuckles, waiting for my answer.
“A celebration sounds absolutely perfect,” I reply, leaning over the counter to kiss him again.
Sydney disappears back into the shelves of books, muttering under her breath something along the lines of PDA being banned around single people.
“I’ll see you tonight, then,” Ronin promises, before tearing himself away to return to the diner.
I lean back against the wall behind the front desk.
I actually did it. I’m going to be published in The Emerald Times.
My little story about fate will be read by countless readers.
My chest fills with pride for the first time since I started my writing journey.
I had a few accolades in college for different writing projects, but after years of struggling in LA, this feels absolutely amazing.
Validating in a way I didn’t realize I wanted or needed.
I suddenly feel as if the lofty goal of writing a novel isn’t so lofty anymore. It’s tangible—within my reach. And with the cash prize that this contest comes with, I may actually be able to publish it on my own—if I can get it written.
My mind flashes back to December, when I visited Nora and accepted her job offer. I had an image then of a book in the display window with my name scrawled across the front. I smile to myself, determined now to make this vision a reality.