Another writing session tonight with Madeline! Just playing around with scenes still, finishing up the second part of one I worked on last time. I drag my feet in so much for writing but I really do feel better doing it and having done it. It’s the same with running and other hard things worth doing. I’m hoping I can find more of routine in my new home in the coming weeks — writing, running, grocery shopping — all those normal bits of life that have been mixed up with such a big move. Though, for writing, I’ve been pretty quiet for most of this year.
Here’s an unedited small snippet from tonight, just for fun:
“Thanks for coming,” I say. “I’ll figure it out. And see you at practice?”
It’s hard to miss the gratitude that comes over his face at the dismissal. I’m glad he pulled away.
“Yeah, I’ll see you at practice. And Reese, whatever you figure out, just know that it really is okay with me.” It costs him something to say, so I let that be the final word. I take up his post leaning against the wall as walks off to his car shrouded in the darkness of the lampless lot.
I have no idea what I’m even supposed to figure out, of course.
If I like Clarke?
If Clarke likes me?
If I’m gay?
If all those things are true, would we destroy each other’s chances of winning the title? Of our future? In every race, one of us would always win. One of use would always lose.
That’s one thing I don’t have to figure out: running is everything to me. It’s my way out. It’s my future. And Clarke has always been blocking the door.
If I pushed her up against that door for a kiss rather than flattened her down to get through it, who would that make me?
If a small voice answers ‘do both’, does that make me a monster?
With Love,
Natalie