Page 63 of Landon & Shay: Part One

“I hope he’s not,” Eleanor said.

I gave her a sad, tight smile, because her words made my eyes water over. I was so tired of crying over the man who was supposed to be my hero.

“I just wish my family could be more like yours.” I wiggled my nose to keep the sniffles away. “You guys are perfect.”

Eleanor’s gaze shifted to the ground, and she grew a bit somber. “We’re not perfect. We have struggles, too. Really hard struggles.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s human to struggle, but you all struggle together…as one.” They all played for the same team; they all wanted the same thing in life—happiness. My family was split up into different divisions. Sure, we all wanted happiness, but we all thought it came from different avenues.

“We can talk about something else,” she offered, feeling the heaviness of the room.

“Please,” I choked out. I’d talk about anything—anything that wasn’t my family’s wounds, which were being deepened with each passing day.

Eleanor jumped up from her sitting position and moved over to her desk. She picked up a stack of papers and came back over to join me on her bed. Then, she plopped the paperwork on my lap with a big thump.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s the script you sent me.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Ellie, I sent this to you at like ten last night.” When I couldn’t sleep, I wrote. When I wrote, I sent my pages over to Eleanor. The night before, I’d finally completed a manuscript I’d been working on for over three years, and I had sent it to my cousin for her painfully honest feedback.

“Yeah, I know, and you’re the reason I slept through my alarm clock, by the way. I read through it three times, Shay. I read it over and over again to look for where I could give you notes on improvements, on your character developments, on the story arc, but there’s one major problem.”

I swallowed hard. “What’s that?”

“It’s already perfect.”

My heart started racing at a pace I couldn’t keep up with. “Don’t just butter me up because I’m having a crappy day, Eleanor.”

“I’m not. Shay, this is a masterpiece. All you have to do now is share it with the world somehow.”

My heart hiccupped as realization set in that the one person I wanted to share it with was the person who might’ve fallen back off the wagon. I couldn’t share my blood, sweat, and tears with my father if he wasn’t doing right.

Clean-cut father deserved to share my passions with me. Liar father did not.

“How would I even begin to share this?” I asked her.

“Come look,” she said, hurrying over to her desktop. She sat down, opened a web page, and started scrolling. “I did some research, and there are all these contests you can enter to have professionals read your manuscript. You can even send them in to some colleges for grants or scholarships. I know you’ve been wavering back and forth on getting a degree in film and creative writing, because realistically, for the average person, it’s a crappy idea, but you aren’t average, Shay. You’re extraordinary.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m your favorite cousin.”

“You’re my only cousin,” she remarked as she nudged me in the arm. “But really, I get not wanting to risk the financial side of things. So, maybe apply for scholarships to see what you can get. That could ease up the stress of losing a crap ton of money to an art degree.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Maybe.”

Eleanor was always pushing me to go for more, to chase my dreams, to become the best human I could be. I had her email me the website with the applications and said I’d look into it more when I had time.

I didn’t know what my future would be, but it felt good to have someone in my corner who believed in me.

We talked about everything under the sun until both of our eyes grew heavy, and as I lay down in the darkness of the room, Eleanor called out to me.

“I know we don’t talk about boys, because, whatever…but what’s the deal with you and Landon?” she asked, her question making my stomach swirl. Eleanor never really engaged in high school drama, and she was highly skilled at keeping to herself. Outside of me, she didn’t really care much about anything that went on within the halls of our high school. So, the fact that she’d even noticed something between Landon and me was baffling.

Were we that obvious with whatever tango it was that we danced?

“What do you mean?”

“I heard about the bet you two have going on. It’s high school people talk. Sure, they weren’t talking to me, but I overheard.”

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