Page 65 of Chase Lovett Wants Me

CAMMIE

My finger hovers over the New Tab button on my laptop. “Don’t do it, Cammie. Do not open your fic. You do not have time to mess around.” I roll my eyes at myself. I should not need a pep talk to finish this freaking creative writing submission. I slump forward and rest my forehead on my desk. “What is wrong with me?”

If I finish this, I have to hand it in. Which is the whole freaking point of writing it. I decide to call my sister, because if anyone can give me a Come to Jesus talk, it’s her.

Her face appears on my screen almost immediately. She’s in the middle of one of her special masks meant to cleanse her pores. Essie takes skincare very seriously.

“Hey, sorry to video call without warning.”

“It’s no problem.” Her smile turns into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She purses her lips. “Don’t lie. It’s bad for your health.”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I think I’m having an existential crisis.” I don’t even know what that means, but it feels accurate.

“How about you break that down for me.”

I word vomit all my woes, including dragging my ass on the story that’s due soon and also the nonsense at the hockey game, and how I’m pretty sure I’m falling for Chase.

Essie claps, her grin so wide it cracks the mask and a few chunks fall off around her smile line. “This is so exciting!”

“I’m over here feeling like I don’t have control over anything and you’re acting like I’ve just been crowned prom queen.”

“You would never have accepted the title of prom queen,” Essie points out.

“That’s accurate.” I wore a completely black, floor-length, lacy, somewhat gothic-inspired dress to prom. It was a real statement piece. I went with myLotRfriends as a group. None of us brought dates.

“Okay, I’m going to give it to you straight, no sugarcoating, unless you’re feeling too much like a marshmallow, then I’ll sugarcoat.”

“I can handle straight.” I don’t really have time for sugarcoating.

“You’re scared.”

I frown.

“If you finish the submission, you’ll have to hand it in. It’s your ticket to the creative writing class, but if it doesn’t pass their test, you don’t get into that course and it’s a huge dream for you, so you’ve spent the past few months writing something else because you’re getting the feedback you want.”

“Please tell me you’re not reading my fanfic.”

“I can’t do that because that would be me lying, and I don’t lie to you.” Essie smiles softly. More chunks of mask fall off. “It’s amazing by the way. Super well written and very, very hot. And I don’t want to know what you’ve been reading-slash-watching-slash-doing to write such spicy flutter-inducing stuff, but it’s awesome. And I can totally understand why you keep posting, because people love it, and you get this wonderful instant feedback.”

“Most of the time that’s true.”

“But this other project will be judged by professors, and that’s scary.”

I blow out a breath and feel like a deflated balloon. “You’re right.”

“And it’s not much different with Chase. He’s the popular jock and you’re the adorable elf-loving, quiet girl who doesn’t try to fit in with thecool crowd.” She makes air quotes around the words. “Here’s the thing, though, Cam, it takes real guts to go against the grain.”

“What if I can never fit in with Chase’s friends, though?” It would be so much easier if I were more like Essie and less like me.

“What if you can?” she counters.

“What if they don’t like me?” Those girls hit where it hurts every time, and as much as I don’t want it to, the sting lingers.

“I’m too high energy for some people and for others I’m a mood lifter. You’re not going to be for everyone, Cammie. But if Chase likes you just the way you are, then his close friends probably will, too.”

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