Ellie nods in agreement. “I’ll never tell.”
The conversation shifts away from men and we finish up our meal before the three of us go our separate ways. My footsteps are light as I head down the street, making my way back to my apartment. I’ve spent so much time writing myself in circles or just avoiding the creative process in general. I’ve been afraid of the future, because I wasn’t certain I’d have one in this career.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m ready for whatever comes next.
I stare down at my notes. Ripped pages from my notebook are askew across the floor. Some with the words scratched out and others are rolled up into tight balls of frustration. Not a single idea feels likethe one. I need a story unlike anything I’ve ever written before.
I need a story that everyone is going to stop their lives for and rush to the nearest bookstore to purchase.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Maybe I’m not good enough anymore. Maybe I need to just call it quits and find another job. I feel the inspiration, but I’m too indecisive. Too afraid. What if the idea I go with isn’t enough to salvage my career?
My phone vibrates, and I sigh, picking it up. My heart skips a beat when I see his name.
Matteo
You alive?
It’s been two days since we shook hands and made a deal. I gave him my number after he walked me home in the wee hours of the morning. It was a stipulation to our agreement. How else would we use each other if we didn’t have a way of getting a hold of one another?
Jade
Barely. This book is going to be the end of me.
Matteo
What’s going on? Maybe I can help.
I don’t know if he can help, but at this point, I will take anything I can get. I have so many ideas, I just need to figure out which one sounds the best.
Jade
Can I call you? I think it would be easier.
Matteo
Yes.
Ignoring the nervous ball twisting in my stomach, I tap on his name to call him before I get the chance to second guess myself. I’m not sure Matteo is the person I should be bouncing ideas off of, but his part of our pact is to help me, so…
“Hey,” he says, answering on the second ring. He sounds a bit breathless. “Shit, hold on.”
There’s a rustling sound in the background, maybe a door slamming and then he’s back on the phone. “Sorry about that.”
“Everything okay? I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“You’re never a bother, Sunny. I just got home from dinner at my friend’s.” He pauses for a second. “Theo.”
“Why do you call me that?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then asks, “Call you what?”
“Sunny,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because you’re like the sun. You shine brighter than everyone else around you. I know if I get too close, I’m bound to be burned.”
My heart stumbles over itself before breaking out into an unsteady rhythm of erratic beats.
“So, how can I help?”