I’m drinking Red Bull from Connor’s ‘seven ways to kill you’ mug instead of the can, purely for the comfort of having his things nearby. I found it in the sink when I came home a few days ago and have been using it ever since. I hope it’s a sign from him that he’ll be back and not a token for me to remember him by.
I haven’t heard from him, though. Hunter isn’t responding to my messages either, and I feel like maybe it was all a con to wash their hands of me.
I read back over the last page of what I’ve written, making tweaks as I go. It’s good, but it needs to be great. After everything I’ve been through to get this book to fruition, it needs to be the best thing I’ve ever written, which means I need help.
I open a new tab and text the group chat for the W3AS gang, asking them if they can meet at the library for a sprint session and hype huddle.
Everyone replies in the affirmative, with Becca even promising donut hole rewards since that worked so well last time to motivate me. They’re the best friends I could possibly have, helping me on the fly even after I disappeared and went radio silent for the days in the hotel with Hunter.
I chug the rest of my Red Bull, making a sour face at the liquid that’s gone warm. I’m drinking too much of this shit. My kidneys have to be half pickled by now. After the book’s done, I’m going to need a detoxing or something.
But that’s a problem for Future Poppy. Right now, nothing matters but finishing Trouble in Great Falls. And Connor.
My hair is piled in a messy, days-dirty bun, I’m wearing clothes that I slept in, and deodorant that’s been applied in layers, so I take the quick ten minutes to shower. I want the girls to think I’m doing okay for once, even if it’s only a façade. I head to the library with my laptop in a bag. This one is a brand-new cross-body bag with an extra security strap that attaches around my waist. I’m not taking any chances.
And I’ve still got my flash drive in my pocket with my backups. No fucking around anymore.
I get to the library, and the girls are all here already, gathered and waiting for me. They go silent when I enter, making it obvious that they were talking about me while they waited. After a bit of fuss and a spritz of homemade essential oil body spray from Aleria that she swears is beneficial for mind clearing but makes me sneeze, we gather around the table and get our tech out.
“So, what happened?” Jasmine asks before I can type a single word. “You’ve been MIA for a few days. Working?” she prompts hopefully.
I rub my overly tired eyes, shaking my head. “So much has happened, I can’t even explain it all.”
Really, I can’t tell them anything, per Hunter’s orders. I can’t risk messing up their court case.
“Your aura is full of static,” Aleria says knowingly. “You need to bathe in sage.”
“I’m just glad you bathed,” Daysha says, sniffing the air in my direction. I make a face at her, knowing that I don’t stink this time. Especially after the body spray spritz.
Becca glares at Daysha, changing the subject. “How’s the book going? Tell us what you need other than a sprint session.”
I sigh heavily. “It would be great if you could read over the last few chapters and see if I’ve missed anything,” I admit. “I know it sucks to ask you guys to be beta readers, but I need the assist badly. I think I’ve got the loose ends tied up, but I want to be sure because I’m heading into the happily ever after. And the cliffhanger.”
“Cliffhanger?” Jasmine says with a wrinkle of her nose. “Readers hate those. Unless you’re explicit that it’s supposed to be that way.”
“I know, but I was totally upfront about it. It’s a three-book series, already plotted out and contracted that way,” I remind them. “So the cliffie is a necessary evil, but I need there to be some resolution that feels good.”
“Then let’s do this shit,” Daysha says, opening her laptop. “Gimme a copy.”
I give her my thumb drive, and Aleria places a hand on my shoulder. “Let me clear some of the static first. I truly think it’ll help.”
She’s done an aura cleanse on me before, so I know it won’t hurt, and at this point, anything that might help is fair game. I nod my agreement, and Aleria stands behind me, humming softly as she traces over my skin with her palms a few inches from connecting with me.
“Allow creativity to flow freely, unrestricted by worldly concerns. Release stressors and bring only warm light to Poppy’s soul. Blessed be,” Aleria intones. Her voice is soothing, even if the words don’t actually do anything.