When B found me at the library, I was trying to write on my story, on the book I’ve been working on these past weeks. Talking to Jo really helped me figure things out with where I want to go next. She’s a self-published author. This means that she publishes her own work and sells the books herself. It sounds really scary, but also really cool at the same time. I always thought that it would take years for things to move along, but what if I could be writing and selling books before the end of summer? Or even before that? Wouldn’t that be so cool? So I was trying to work on the structure of the story, trying to figure out the middle so it won’t become all saggy and bleh, so that it will actually keep people reading.

Jo talked a little about what it takes to self-publish a book: finding an editor, how to get cover art, all the other things that come along with it. But we mostly talked about this story, the one I’m working on now. A romance novel, a second-chance romance novel about two people who had to break up because of stupid reasons. I know that it’s a little close to reality, but that doesn’t matter. Jo said that it may actually help. Especially when I’m still struggling with writing the ending, instead of ignoring it in the hopes of never having to face a conclusion. Maybe it will even give me a conclusion to my own story...

So while I was thinking about all of that, how to get the story going, of course B would show up. Like seeing him isn’t bad enough normally, but this just felt so awkward. The idea for this story came to me because of him, when I saw him again, but now it’s taken a different direction than reality. That’s the story, and this is our life.

But he was just here about the movie, and when we worked on that, it felt good. It felt like this is how we’re supposed to be, working together. But it didn’t change the fact that I also would have liked to strip him of his clothes—especially when we really got into the work, sharing ideas back and front, making notes on the papers, accidentally touching each other. The sparks constantly building up, filling me. And his scent, so close, it made me want to lean in and kiss him. But we kept working. I pushed it all away.

This isn’t going to happen now. I have more important things to do. I have to get my life back on track. And right now, that can’t happen with B near me.

“Lo—uh, Lola?” He looks at me, his eyes shooting away for a moment, but then coming back to me. I asked him not to call me Lo, to just use my name.

“Yes?”

“You’re a really good writer.”

“Hmm?” Where did that come from?

“I like the scenes you wrote for the script the best.”

“You’re just prejudiced.” I feel my cheeks heat up, but his look, the way he says it, it’s not to flirt, it’s like he’s being serious. And that realization stops me, fills my eyes with tears.

“I’m not. You’re really good. I hope that you’ll always keep writing. I think you can make many people happy with your writing.” Then he stands up. “Do you want to keep the notes, or should I take them?”

“Ehm. I think I’ll see Damon sooner.” I’m meeting H and Lizzy at the workshop later, and, usually, Damon is there too.

“Okay.” B breathes calmly, but there is a change in him. Why does it feel like he’s telling me goodbye? “I’ll see you on Monday.”

I nod, not sure I can talk right now. What’s going on?

He gives me a small wave and then walks away, leaving me behind in the library. I feel tears slowly drip down my cheeks.

Why does this feel like goodbye?

I want to get up, follow him, tell him not to leave me. But I don’t have the energy for it. I stay in my place. Not able to move even one bit.

My heart hurts. It’s not like when he left me in that hospital room. This is different. It’s more controlled, it’s more like this is real.

I asked him not to talk to me, to respect my feelings, but why does it hurt when he does exactly that?

We had fun working together. We had fun talking about the project, making progress on what we’re supposed to be working on together. But when he talked about my writing... it was like he’s saying it because he won’t be there to actually see it happen and I don’t want that.

I don’t want him not to be part of my life. But I can’t be with him, not in a relationship, and I can’t watch him with someone else. And to ask him to not date, because it hurts me, while also not being able to give him anything in return...

It’s not fair. I know that. I know that’s not fair.

But it’s what I want to ask of him. It’s the one thing I want to ask of him.

Be mine.

Be mine without being mine.

Be mine alone, forget everyone else, while we can’t be together. Because we’ve hurt each other too much already.

It’s too egotistical a request. I can’t do that to him...

I can’t hurt him like that too. I just can’t.

I wipe away my tears with my sleeve. Fuck.

I can’t do that to him, even though I want nothing more.

He deserves better, he deserves so much better. And, if he can finally forget about me, he will find better.

He will.

Because that’s what he deserves, someone who hasn’t hurt him in the past like I have.

Fuck. That hurts. How can the best thing for the both of us hurt so much?

Fuck.

I had to try to calm down before I could go to the workshop. If Lizzy or Hunter had seen me like this, they’d have gotten really angry. And I don’t want them to get angry with B when he hasn’t actually done anything to deserve that for a change.

So I messaged them that I was writing, which isn’t untrue. I am writing—a version of a story I shouldn’t be writing. A version of the story where maybe something good can come out of everything that happened between B and me. Maybe. There are just so many things that are making stuff a lot more complicated. Like what H said about being with B while I was in the hospital and not being able to tell why. I still have no idea what happened, and that’s making this whole ‘redeeming the asshole’ a little more complicated.

But my fingers are moving, my emotions more and more controlled as I keep pouring the words out, as I keep everything going. I’m not even sure how much time has passed when Lizzy taps against the side of my screen, her eyes filled with worry.

“Hey.” I take a deep breath, blinking. I was in a trance again.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, careful. “Are you okay?”

I frown. “I’m good, why?” I’m better now those emotions are on the page instead of all bottled up inside of me.

She reaches out, rubbing her finger over my cheek. “You were crying.”

I shrug a little. “I’m good now.”

“Did B do something?” There is a fierceness in her voice.

“No. Why?” Not directly anyway, not this time.

“Hunter said that he was asking about you, trying to find you. Did he find you?”

“Yeah.” I save the file, closing the program. “He found me, we worked on the project. He left after that.”

“Nothing happened?” Why doesn’t she believe me?

“Nothing happened. I’m just too involved with my story.” Which is true, mostly.

“Ah.” She sits on the table. “This is the one you’re not showing to anyone?”

“Some people have read it.”

“Okay, I mean, this one isn’t available online yet?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping this one to myself, for now.”

“For now?” She seems to have interest now. “So that means not always, right? You’re taking Jo up on her offer?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll at least look into the whole self-publishing thing. I’m not sure if it will work out, but I can at least look at it.”

“Yeah.” She grins. “My sister will be a published author.” There is a sparkle in her eyes. “Then Mom and Dad can put your books on a shelf, next to my drawings.” She reaches out, taking my hand. “You can’t imagine how proud I feel. Seriously.”

“Why?” I’m not even sure how much different this will be from just posting stuff online. Though I know that Jo has been doing this and making a living at it. So that’s at least different. But I don’t really know what other things will be different.

“Because you’ll be able to share your words with even more people. That’s so amazing. I know I’m not the best reader, but you should hear Hanna talk about your stories. She’s totally obsessed.” She grins, then slides off the table. “And on that note, let’s go. Hunter is taking us out for dinner.”

“Us?” Who else?

“You, me and him. Just small, don’t worry.” She keeps moving, not able to sit still anymore.

“Sure. Just let me drop something off for Damon. Is he still at the workshop?” I put away my laptop.

“He was when I left.”

“Good.” I put my jacket on and then make my way out of the library.

I’m not sure what changed, but I feel stronger now.

I can do this.

I think.

I think...

Time starts to flow. Days pass, filled with writing my own story, writing and editing the movie script, and working with the actors and actresses to start the filming soon. February turns into March, and even though I feel like things have been standing still while also changing so fast, I feel like I’ve found a place for myself.

Seeing B still hurts. But we’ve gotten to a place where we can work together without ripping each other’s clothes off constantly. There are so many things that we now have to work together on, but he still respects my distance, respects that I can’t be near him when it’s not about work. Somehow, it works. Just for the small moments between other things, it works. For now.

I’ve been talking to Jo regularly. Her encouragement really helps me when things get rough, and the book is starting to take more and more shape. She’s shown me a lot of resources for getting better at writing, at storytelling, at cleaning up my own drafts, and it’s helped me so much. But it’s also made me a lot more scared. Scared that I’ll mess something up, scared that maybe I’m not as good as some people keep telling me.

That fear has slowly been building, making the words coming out of my fingers slower and slower every time I sit down to write.

I glare at the screen in front of me—not my story this time, but the script.

“Lola?” Charlotte comes over. “Did you take a look at my pages yet? I think they want to start filming them soon.”

“Yeah, I looked at them.” I pull up a different part of the script. “They seemed fine, but are you sure that Maya is comfortable with the lines you’re giving her?”

Charlotte shrugs. “She was fine with them last time I checked with her, so that should be okay. Why?”

“I don’t know. It seems a little... extreme.” I look at them again. It’s both sexual and aggressive in a way I don’t know if everyone would be comfortable with. “But if she’s fine with them, you can start handing those scenes out for real.”

“Nice.” Charlotte grins. “Now I can finally go to the filming location. Cole is helping out there.”

Of course it’s about a guy. “You’re both working.”

“Yep.” Her eyes sparkle. “But we all have to take breaks from time to time.” She nods. “I’ll ask Prof Winters to print them off, and then hand them out.”

“Good.” Well, I guess it’s fine. Just because I can’t have the guy I want doesn’t mean that others can’t do whatever they want.

Then, as Charlotte leaves, Damon comes over, looking at her strangely before looking my way. “What did she do? She looks like she’s on the hunt.”

“Going after a guy.” I smile a little.

“Ah, all normal then.” He sits down. “We’re starting filming the outside scenes at the gardens next week. I thought you might want to be there.”

“Which one?” We’ll be filming quite a few there.

“The one with the poisonous plants.” He grins.

“Ah, that one.” I nod. “Did Blaze finish the ship yet?” I know that he’s been working on it a lot.

“Yeah. You want to see?” Damon stands up again. When I don’t immediately follow, his eyes soften. “Blaze isn’t here. He’s getting supplies for one of the other sets.”

“Okay.” I stand up too, closing my laptop and taking it with me. I’m actually kind of curious what Blaze has been doing with it. We didn’t really discuss much apart from the sketches at the start. I’ve been just letting him do whatever he wants. I can write the script, but I don’t really have an idea of the details of the locations. I’m not that much of a visual writer. I write emotions and characters—locations are not my strength.

Damon brings me to the other room, the room where they’re building a lot of the sets and pieces of the sets. He goes to the back, and there is a part of a small spaceship standing there. It’s bulky and gray but it’s very impressive, especially since I know that the scene won’t be that long, and the piece will only be at the side of the shot, not even in full view.

“Wow.” I can’t help it. This is so much better than I expected.

“You like?” Damon grins.

“Very much.” I nod.

“Good.” The voice answering me this time isn’t Damon, but B, standing somewhere behind me.

I twist around, surprised, very aware of the way I look right now, very aware that I’m in his space and he wasn’t even there.

B hands Damon a bag and then puts the other one on the floor, stepping past me. “I tried to make something that would fit the rest of the atmosphere. But I didn’t want to make it too much, since we’ve got other things to work on too.” He runs his hand over the side of the ship part.

I nod. “Good.”

B looks at me, nodding too. “I’m glad you like it.” There is something to his voice, something that makes my stomach flutter.

Oh, help. This was what we were trying to avoid—this look, these feelings.

“I’ll go back to work.” I hold up the laptop.

“I’ll see you next week, on the set?” B’s voice is careful.

I nod, my heart jumping. “I’ll be there. At least for the first day or so.”

“Right.”

I quickly turn around, getting back to the normal classroom. I can’t be that close to him. I really can’t.

It makes me want to do things that I shouldn’t be doing...