I’m trying something a little different today. I found the prompt word in one of my works, so I’m posting an excerpt from where it appears. This is from my book What Love Means.
—
Cal pulled me in for a kiss. When we pulled away, he spoke. “I got you something.”
The asshole never knew when to quit. Was that why he didn’t take me anywhere nice? He got me some stupid trinket that was worth a small fortune instead?
“I don’t want or need presents,” I started arguing.
“Just let me—”
How could someone so smart be so dumb? “Cal, you know I don’t like—” You throwing your weight and money all over the place. I didn’t say that as he held his hands up insistently.
“I didn’t get you anything elaborate.” He shrugged. “It’s more, I don’t know, a gesture.”
What was Cal’s idea of ‘not elaborate?’ “Is it a pony? I won’t be mad if it’s a pony since April wants one.”
Max and Cal from What Love Means are opposites who parted on bad terms. When they meet again, things aren’t easy between them. They’re torn between despising each other and wanting to jump on each other. They have a constant push and pull because they’re both trying to fight an attraction. That’s always a fun dynamic to write and read.
Here’s a snippet from the book:
“Couldn’t we just try to get along?” he asked. “No insults, no pushing buttons, no… flirting.”
Flirting was the whole point of tonight! I pushed down a crabby retort about him being a wet blanket. “That doesn’t sound like much fun,” I offered lightly.
The milkshake I ordered came with one straw and I pushed it closer to myself on the table while sipping from it. I sucked on the straw as lewdly as possible, making exaggerated hums of appreciation before removing my lips with an audible pop.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t comment on it. “I didn’t peg you for a strawberry milkshake kinda guy.”
I’m a big fan of fruit? No, too corny. I shrugged. Who didn’t like strawberry? “Anyone who says strawberry isn’t the best milkshake flavor is wrong or lying,” I responded neutrally but ran my hand up and down the long glass, fingers skating over the cool surface.
Cal looked away for a second, letting out a frustrated huff. I grinned but was surprised when he met my eyes a second later. “You know, two could play at this game.”
“You are so stupid,” April told me while trying to swing her leg back and kick me.
“We had rules for tonight,” I said very seriously. “And this game has too much reading.”
Cal and I opted to watch rather than play any of the arcade games, trailing behind the kids and holding stuff for them instead. We’d banned all talk of spelling, bees, and linguistics and headed to the most fun place for kids we could think of. This place was half arcade, half junior amusement park with games, laser tag, and go karts. Bright lights and merriment filled the air.
April and Brendan were about to play some action game with fake orange guns. I jumped forward and covered both their eyes when a long-winded backstory involving chunks of text filled the screen. Reading was kinda like spelling and that was not allowed right now.
“We won’t know how to play,” April argued, throwing her elbow back when she had little luck with her leg. She nailed me in the stomach.
I grunted and let her go but kept my hand over Brendan’s eyes. “You shoot the monsters. Do you really need an instruction manual for that?” I quipped.
The smile threatening Brendan’s face turned into an actual grin as April threw herself into us and the three of us collided with the machine. After a brief tussle, I ‘surrendered’ with my hands up and moved away from them. I said, “I hope the monsters eat you first, April.”
Brendan smiled again and then their focus was taken by the creatures filling the screen. I didn’t really care about the ‘no spelling, no talking’ about spelling’ rule we instituted. I just wanted to cheer up Brendan and his frowning brother.
How did Tyler know if someone liked him? When Justin with the dark skin and wavy brown hair waved at Tyler in the halls, butterflies formed in his stomach and a giddy feeling followed him around all day. That only explained how Tyler felt about the other boy; it didn’t show what Justin thought of him.
Friendly greetings led to careful conversation that gradually turned more genuine as the butterflies inside Tyler grew and got tired of living in their cramped confines, beating their wings so ferociously they threatened to tear out of his body and soar into the air above him.
Looks in the hallways, a flirty word here or there. It could all mean something. It could also be completely innocent. The rules of dating were vague. Yet he wasn’t quite desperate enough to turn to Cosmo or Teen Vogue for tips on how to know if your guy was into you.
What was it his mother said? ‘If I want something done right, I have to do it myself.’ No, he wasn’t going to ask his mom to find out if a boy liked him; that would be worse than turning to a lady’s fashion magazine for advice.
The time for coy words and fond gazes was over. He had to find out for himself. If Justin wasn’t going to ask him out, he’d ask Justin instead.
Infatuation and crushes don’t last forever. Heartbreak doesn’t last forever. To build something solid, you have to put in the work and lay the foundation. To start something great, first you had to start.
Here’s an excerpt of What Love Means. Both of the main characters have a sibling who competes in spelling bees, and this takes place at a spelling club meeting.
Cal
This was the perfect chance to spend quality time with my brother while getting my mind off the breakup. And the guy from the party. I had to get him out of my mind. I thought about him more than I wanted to admit.
Did it seem so intense because of the alcohol? Needing someone so badly and feeling such pleasure at his skin on mine couldn’t possibly be real. I didn’t even know his name! Still, it had been heady. Maybe because it was new? Feeling coarse skin scrape against my jaw. Meeting muscles instead of soft flesh. How he backed me up against a wall with easy strength. His demanding mouth and hands…
“This isn’t spelling, it’s chemistry. We have it. Why fight it?”
“That’s so cheesy.” It was but I didn’t care. It was true. We stared at each other and just when I thought I was going to drown in the sexual tension or he was going to kiss me right here in public in a middle school cafeteria, he broke away. Good, I still wasn’t anymore decided on the subject. I protested because it felt like I needed to, because I worried it couldn’t be as easy as he made it sound. But what if it could be?
I wasn’t considering his offer. I just. I wasn’t not considering it. Shit.
“You can tell yourself whatever you want,” he said lowly, “but this tension, this energy between us, it isn’t all one sided.”
It was hard to deny that when just his deep voice close to my ear sent shivers up my spine. So instead of pretending there was nothing between us, I just said, “It’s not a good idea.”
I expected Max to scoff, leave my side, or maybe get pissed off. He only squeezed my hand softly, eyes fixed on the stage. A small smile quirked his lips up. I got the feeling he didn’t mind that I hadn’t given in. Why didn’t he care?
Max had a thrill-seeking, daredevil streak in him that made flying down the road on a tiny piece of metal exciting when there were bigger, stronger pieces of machinery out there that could flatten him in an instant. He probably cranked the throttle and went fast, over the speed limit definitely, and pushed his bike to the limit. That all meant he’d like the chase. Shit. I couldn’t say yes yet, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t want to say no. It seemed like he was up for the challenge of wearing down what little resistance I had. I’d never been pursued before. Shit, maybe I was a bit of thrill seeker too. I’d been too busy burying myself in books to realize it, but here I was, on the verge of something with him and so eager for it even if I couldn’t quite give in. Yet.
I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I was becoming certain I wanted whatever it was.
Not everything made it into my novel What Love Means. Here’s a part that was cut:
“You’re sure you want to do this?” I had to check one more time. “Like totally, completely, possum-tive sure?”
April used to think the word ‘positive’ was possumtive when she was a kid. Maybe because she was obsessed with possums. She thought they were adorable and wanted one as a pet. She was the only kid I’d ever encountered who loved possums. She was unique, so of course she’d be the kid in her class that liked spelling bees instead of whatever the other children enjoyed.
She nodded seriously. “Possumtive.” Then, she smiled. “Plus, I’ll be even better with your help.”
I stared at her as she tried to stare back seriously without grinning. Crap. I didn’t want to give in. We both knew I would.
“Oh god, is that really necessary?” Three sets of eyes swiveled to Stephen, who was looking around the table with disdain. “Do you need to post pictures of your lunch?” he continued. “No one cares.” I set my phone down, guilty, while the other two carried on without shame.
“But… it’s pretty. It’s sushi!” defended Abby with a pout from across the table.
His withering look was one of my top five favorite looks, which he delivered now while saying, “All of your acolytes have seen sushi before.”
“Is this an acolyte?” Milo said to Abby, pointing at an item on his plate. “I thought it was a California roll.”
Stephen stared at him in horror from across the table. It gave me a chance to speak up, so I did. “Come on,” I shoved him playfully with an elbow and he turned to me and resumed a haughty look. With his blue argyle sweater and wide, dark brown glasses, he was the most adorably offended nerd ever. “Even you know they’re called followers and not acolytes.”
He only scoffed at my remark and I tried to look as bored with him as everyone else instead of pleased. I had a perfect view of the spark in his amber eyes that always appeared when he really got going before he turned to address everyone.
“It’s superficial. Social media is all so fake.” He reflexively moved a hand to sweep his chestnut locks out of his face even though his perfectly coiffed hair was still in place and neat as ever.
“No,” Milo defended, “All my followers are real. I’m not using bots or something. That’s cheating.”
“I’m sure they exist,” Stephen said dryly. “If you can call being attached to a screen 24/7 existing.” He merrily started in on a rant about technology and the superficial nature of consumerism or something.
Abby looked annoyed at Stephen starting another patronizing speech and looked to me for support. I shrugged. Yeah, the words weren’t great, but he looked so good when lecturing about something. I used to be annoyed by it until I got the feelings. It was a pretty good strategy, I thought, having a crush on your most pompous friend made everything he said more bearable.
“Taking picture after picture of the best moments of your life and adding a fun filter is so trivial,” Stephen continued.
“…Sometimes I add a caption too,” Milo muttered, which apparently wasn’t worthy of a response as Stephen turned to me again.
“I can’t believe you’re participating in this too, Will.”
“We’re out of school today and we’re having a nice lunch,” I argued. “That’s something to celebrate.”
That answer didn’t sway him. I pretended to listen to his rant while watching the way his face flushed as he continued to talk and talk.
“No one is authentic anymore. Nothing is real.” Those words filtered through my admiration of his features and his passion. He said he wanted real, but my real big crush on him might be enough to shock him into silence for a full minute. Maybe two if he was especially horrified.
“And that’s what you want?” I asked.
“Desperately,” Stephen said with feeling while looking me in the eyes. He didn’t know what he was asking for. But maybe he was right. Maybe I was tired of pretending. I thought I knew how he’d react if I told him, but all the disaster scenarios I imagined weren’t real. There was only one way to find out for sure.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
Spell checking is vital component in my life. I’m a terrible speller. I vaguely remember school spelling bees where I was never the worst but I never won either. Yet somehow the Scripps National Spelling Bee is something I’ve loved for years.
Watching adorably awkward kids spell insane words and trying to guess them is fun for some reason. Back in 2015, both the winners were from the same region I was born in, and the girl who won from Olathe, KS, is from the same area I grew up in, so that was neat. They were my favorites to win just because of where they were from, but I normally root for whoever is funny and/or painfully shy (because the shy ones need the support!).
In What Love Means, the two main characters are former spelling bee competitors who are now helping their siblings with the bee. It’s the backdrop for the action, but you don’t have to like or know anything about spelling bees to read the book.
I took the official prelim test for the past year and was not at all surprised that I didn’t make the cut. Out of a possible 30 points, a score of 27 was needed to advance. I got a 25, which is actually pretty good for me. I got the majority of spelling questions wrong and most of the vocab questions right. Then I got the round two word right because I’ve read Harry Potter. How did you do on the test?
An hour ago, I was livid. Now, I’m content. There’s just you and me. I existed only in the space between your arms.
Gay Paranormal Romance 