Page 77 of The Nicest Thing
"Okay, I can work with that," I said then ran my eyes over the group."So, what do you want to know?"
Crickets.
"Um…"
Finally, as if taking pity on me, the girl to my left raised her hand.She looked really familiar for some reason, and I pointed to her.
"Yes, thank you…?"
"Lola," she said with a nod.Her heart-shaped face split into a bright smile."We actually met before at one of Dex's games.You're friends with my sister, Maisie."
"Oh yeah, I remember now!You had purple hair then," I said.
"Yeah, the school has a new rule this year, so I went brown.But I kept some highlights."
"You look good as a brunette too.And I love Maisie," I said."She's the best.What was your question?"
"I was just wondering what made you want to write."
"Honestly?I was a reluctant reader growing up," I admitted."I didn't like what they assigned us to read, so I thought books just weren't for me."
The kids were listening intently, so I kept going.
"Of course, I was wrong.One day, when I was about 16, my grandmother gave me a whole bag of romance paperbacks.They were mostly historical with some contemporary and sports romance thrown in there.I probably shouldn't have been reading half of them, butYayasaid it was okay, so...I inhaled those books like oxygen."
I smiled at the memory.
"They made me laugh.They let me escape.Showed me what true love could be like.That's when I knew I wanted to be a writer.I wanted to give that feeling to others, help them through tough times, bring some happiness."
Lola nodded."I love that."
Another girl grinned."So, were the books spicy?"
Ana scoffed."Come on, Freya."
"What?I'm just asking."
"Not sure I should answer that," I said slowly.
But yeah.
They definitely were—nothing in comparison to some of the steamy romances I'd read since then—or written—but the books had contained spice.
"I will say," I added, "that there's no shame in reading or writing what you like—as long as you're mature, and your parents are good with it."
"Exactly." Freya sniffed."Don't yuck someone else's yum, Ana."
"I'd never," Ana said dryly.
"And everyone here enjoys steamy books—well, except maybe Hazel."
A girl with raven black hair, Hazel I assumed, sent her a glare."I likegoodbooks, any and all heat levels, thank you very much."
"Different books work for different people," I said."That's the beauty of reading—and writing."
Another hand went up, and I pointed to the girl in the far corner.
"Hi, I'm Scotlyn," she said.
