My gaze shot to Byron as he edged wickedly away from the civilian caught in our crossfire. He was as slick as James Bond and twice as rude. My eyes narrowed at him. I had the dark eyes of a Russian spy, which I fancied made me sinister enough to break an enemy with a glance, but Byron seemed unruffled by it. He looked as bored as we were.
Would he ne ver dismiss class? I had a bad case of jumpy leg this time. After a dozen parting remarks, the teacher released us and I scrambled out of my seat with only minutes to execute my perfect evacuation. No one stood between me and the devil.
Byron was already halfway across the room. He pressed his palm against the wall, leaning over one of the many TAs from our chemistry class. Her hair was long and two shades blacker than mine.
To top it off, she seemed way more delicate and fragile than me. Byron dripped with charm—something I had never experienced personally from him, but had witnessed plenty of times at ward prayer with his other doomed victims. The girl twisted her Gucci flats shyly against the gray carpet and wrote her number down for him. Just typical. I backed away from them both, feeling a strange surge of disappointment.
How did Byron always show me up? And without even trying? I flung my backpack over my shoulder and retreated to the back door of our lecture hall. I had my own reasons for taking the back way out of chemistry, and it had nothing to do with Byron. No, my reasons were recorded in Journal Entry Number One. That was the day my heart broke in two. I had refused to let it rule me since.
It had been our tradition in the beginning of the semester to meet right after class for lunch. I thought it was love. We had been that cute annoying couple no one wanted to be around. Was it only last spring when I had met him? All the girls had loved him. In the fall, not only were we dating, but we had our own language. That was farther than any of the others got. I had to hand it to him; it was a creative way to get out of buying flowers.
Now I just avoided him like he was a Mary Kay saleswoman. I stepped out of the back exit of the Benson building, letting the door slam behind me. It was weird how I could always pick him out of a crowd of students. He lounged against a tree ten feet away, wearing the vest I picked out for him five months earlier. His signature leather bracelet slid up his sinewy arm, and he looked smitten.
My eyes ran to this new girl. Kim was a beautiful brunette who had been hanging on Cameron for the last few months. A nice girl, who should have been too nice to let him cheat on me. Still, they were officially going out, so why was Cameron flirting with someone else? Cameron chose that same moment to glance my direction.
Almost simultaneously, he turned away and stepped up the flirting. The blonde took full advantage of it. Her giggles echoed past me.
Note to my war journal; today is not my day with men. I tried to remember what all these girls saw in Cameron. It has my romantic comedy feel with mystery and adventure thrown in…and of course, love. So why do I write chic lit? Good question! And I have many more ideas for romantic comedies in the works, so watch out for them—especially on ebook!
We plan to do a staged reading sometime after Christmas Besides my love for writing, I occasionally twist the arms off my friends and family to be in my short movies.
If you want to witness some of these crazy antics, try googling my name on youtube. Watch out for us. All in all, I would say my writing is the way I reach out to people. The world is magical and I want to share that with others. I want to invite others to experience what I feel. And failing that? If you want to know more about me, check out my website: stephaniefowersbooks. Darian Bowler said:.
January 30, at am. Stephanie Fowers said:. September 3, at pm. And thank you for your interest. Ahh I love your books! January 4, at am. Will you please, please, please, also make the book hard copy? January 4, at pm. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Google account. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email.
Share this: Twitter Facebook. Like this: Like Loading Erika said: September 1, at pm. Stephanie Fowers said: September 3, at pm. Christine Bryant said: September 10, at am.
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