Page 21 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

Rolling my eyes, I click my pen against the table and lean back. “I doubt you came here to tell me about proper hygiene.”

“It’s lunch.”

I blink.

He sighs and pulls something from his backpack, which rests next to him on the table. I smile when I see the familiar red licorice package resting like a centerpiece between us.

He watches me peel open the plastic and pull one of the Twizzlers out. “You should eat something that has more dietary nutrition than sugar, but at least you won’t starve the rest of the day. Then I’ll have to hear about how hungry you are on the way home, and you’ll guilt me into buying you something at the gas station with even worse nutritional value.”

I grin. “I’m not planning on being a famous actor, which means I can consume all the sugar I want.”

He huffs, making me grin wider. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re sobbing on the phone to me because you can’t fit into your formal dress.”

“Why would I need a formal dress?”

“When you come to the Oscars with me,” he deadpans, as if to say duh. “I suppose it could also be for whatever author awards are identical to the Oscars.”

“The RITA Awards.”

He stares at me.

I bite down onto my licorice. “It’s the highest award a romance writer can get for the genre. It’s an award given by the Romance Writers of America group.”

“Huh.” His brows furrow. “Sounds like it’s a big deal then.”

“Is an Oscar a big deal?”

“Uh … yeah.”

I just stare until he gets my point.

He steals some of the candy. “Anyway, when we’re both famous we should go to events together. You can go to the Oscars with me and I’ll go to the RITA Awards with you.”

I study him, wondering if he means that. Corbin has been here for about two months. In that time frame, he’s made plenty of other friends. Mostly guys, but some girls who make it obvious they want to be more. I’ve seen him flirt with some of them, which makes me roll my eyes every time. He teases me about being jealous when I pick on him for the thorough eye groping he gets from Shelly Fisher, so in retaliation I gave Shelly his number and said he wanted her to have it. He didn’t find that as amusing as I did.

“What if I can’t fit into my dress?”

He shrugs casually. “I’ll have enough money to hire someone to tailor it.

My eyes narrow. “What if one of us is dating someone else?”

He snorts in an unattractive way, making me giggle. “When will we have time to date? We’re barely going to have time for ourselves.”

I lower my candy. “You honestly think you’ll remain single? Don’t be stupid, Corbin. Nobody who amounts to anything in the acting world is ever single for long.”

When he doesn’t try to argue, I nod.

I can understand his determination not to get distracted by other people. It’s the same mindset I have. The writing world is competitive, which means your book needs to be unique in order to get a lot of attention. As a writer, you have to stand out against the rest of the crowd. If that means becoming the crazy cat lady until I make something of myself, then so be it.

“What are you writing?” Corbin asks, instead of continuing our last conversation.

My arm covers the jumbled words. “I found a website for aspiring writers online. They host contests that have pretty cool prizes.”

“Like?”

“Chances to get published.”

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