“Don’t worry, Harlow,” Crimson said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “The right job will come along!”
“I know,” I muttered, my brow furrowing. I hadn’t meant for my friends to pick up on my strange mood, but that was the thing with people that cared about you. They picked up on your moods and emotions. They learned to read you even when you didn’t want anyone to see.
I was learning that that wasn’t always a bad thing, either.
“I still think you should try and get your book published,” Jenna said, arching her brow at me with a challenging twinkle in her eyes. I’d only let three people aside from Professor Sharpe read my novel: Jenna, Crimson, and Jax. The idea of letting anyone else read it intimidated me. It was too personal, too poignant.
“I don’t know,” I muttered, my eyes dropping to the chip on the coffee table. It felt weird to talk about my book, the novel I’d written for my Creative Writing class. I’d been proud of my grade, naturally, but since Professor Sharpe returned it with his notes and suggestions, it sat in the top drawer of the night stand I shared with Jax, untouched.
My book wasn’t about Iain and me…that would have been too easy, and besides, Iain had already done it. My book was about what happened before. I created a fictional character and gave her my experiences, more to give myself closure and also to tell my story in my own way. Iain had been right: the best stories came from true experiences and people, from situations that could (and, in this case, did) happen.
I’d finally opened up about what had happened to me before I set foot in Iain’s classroom. I didn’t write about my childhood or even the incident with Cole and the basketball team; those were stories for another time, another book. The book was mostly about my remarkable friendship with Lauren, and about her death and how it affected me. This book was for Lauren. A way to keep her memory alive, a way to lament that painful part of my life.
It was deeply personal to me, and I wasn’t sure that I could share it with anybody aside from the few I’d already let read it.
“Harlow, I definitely have to side with Jenna. I mean, so many young teens lose friends in tragic ways. So many of them ache over it and don’t know how to move forward in constructive ways. I honestly think it’d help them to read your book,” Crimson added.
Her words struck a chord with me. The moment she mentioned helping aching souls was the moment I realized that my book wasn’t meant to sit in the top drawer of a nightstand. This story wasn’t just mine; it wasn’t just about Lauren and me. My story was many other peoples’ stories and Crimson was right: it could potentially help another grieving individual.
How could she live on in dusty pages read by no one?
The wheels started to turn in my mind, and I knew I had to find a way to share her story…
About the Author
J.C. Hannigan lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband, their two sons and their dog.
She writes contemporary new adult romance and suspense. Her novels focus on relationships, mental health, social issues, and other life challenges.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/jcahannigan
Twitter: www.twiter.com/jcahannigan
Website: www.jchannigan.com
Other Books by J.C. Hannigan
Collide Series
Collide
Consumed
Collateral
Damaged Series
Damaged Goods
Reckless Abandon
Rebel Series
Rebel Soul
Rebel Heart (coming soon)
Collide Series Box Set Page 69
