Chapter 53
FIFTY-THREE
DAISY
Me
I ran into Connor
Willa
And you’re still able to walk straight?
Me
Correction, I ran into Connor *in public*
Willa
Boring!!
Did he see you?
Me
No, I was wearing my invisibility cloak
Willa
I liked you better before you realized what sarcasm was. The big city changed you.
Me
“This is really good,” Tarah says, her eyes scanning the page I sent her last night.
“You think so?”
“It’s succinct, direct, fresh but still follows the genre conventions. I think you’ve really got something here.” She nods, setting down the page and lifting her eyes to mine. A wide smile blooms on her face when she adds, “And so did my friend. She wants to meet you.”
“She read it?”
She crooks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”
“I just never thought this could turn into anything.”
“There’s this curse of the creative mind that I once read about.
We’re really good at diminishing our own accomplishments, but creating is the one thing that centers us all.
” She tilts her head and looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t diminish what you have here. Art is the most powerful thing we have.
It’s proof of our humanity, and I think we could all use a little bit more humanity in this world, don’t you? ”
I let her words wash over me, feeling the emotion well in my chest. “Thank you. I would’ve never given this a fair shot if it hadn’t been for your encouragement.”
“You were born to be great. You would’ve gotten there eventually, I just sped up the process,” she says, dismissing her influence with a wave. I have a feeling that even if I were to insist, she would continue to dismiss it.
We spend the next ten minutes going over tweaks I need to make to close the gap between the first part of the manuscript and the last.
“Are you still going home?” she asks a while later when I’m sliding the pages into my bag and getting ready to leave.
I nod. “My family needs me.”
Tarah hums, taking a sip of her coffee that I’m pretty sure must be cold by now considering she poured it forty minutes ago. “You know, I used to struggle writing at home. It felt like there was always a dozen people pulling me in different directions.”
“I can write just fine at home,” I tell her, even though I feel the prickle of the lie.
“Maybe. But is it really what you want?” I’m about to answer with another half-baked lie, but she continues. “Sometimes you’re going to have to be okay with disappointing someone else, in order to stay true to yourself.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell her, but her words haunt me long after I leave her office.
I take the long way, walking the extra mile to avoid going home to an empty apartment for a little bit longer. When I finally make it home, I stare at my empty suitcase, trying to persuade myself to start packing. Except, I have no clue where to start.
I’m contemplating just tossing it all in, in one big mess, when a knock at the door startles me. For a fraction of a second I think it might be Connor, until I realize he would’ve let himself in.
I slide the chain off the door and pull it open. It’s barely all the way up when an excited “Surprise!” rings through the hallway and my heart squeezes at the sight of the redhead staring at me.
“Willa.” Her name leaves me on a rushed breath. “What are you doing here?”
“Wondering why my best friend looks like she just saw a ghost. Are you going to hug me or not?” She grins, and that’s all it takes for me to wind my arms around her and crash her to me.