Second Chances: A Romance Writers of America Collection (Stark World 2.50)
Page 120
Brandi Willis Schreiber has imagined romance stories her entire life in her head but only recently started writing them down. A graduate of Texas Tech University, she has a master's degree in English literature and uses her love for nature, travel, poetry, and everything beautiful to fuel her fiction, which will always have a happy ending. Her work has appeared in All Things Dickinson: An Encyclopedia of Emily Dickinson's World, The Texas Review, Red River Review, and elsewhere. This is her first published romance short story, and for that she's over the moon. Brandi lives with her husband, rescue dog, and other wild creatures in her beloved West Texas.
Connect with her at http://www.brandiwillisschreiber.com, on Twitter (@bwschreiber), and on Facebook (authorbrandiwillisschreiber).
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Second Chance
Ford,
No, I have not changed my mind. This is it. My second chance. Finally, after four years of college, I'm returning to our little dinky hometown for two weeks. Moreover, during those two weeks, I fully plan on getting with Wesley Givens, former high school quarterback and my adolescent crush. Stop trying to talk me out of it.
-- Lana
P.S. Don't forget to pick me up at the train station on Friday.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Second Chances Suck
Lana-Banana,
And as I told you last week (plus every night since via text), this little plan of yours is flawed. However, you appear determined to follow through despite my warnings and multiple uses of emoji. Who can resist the smiling poo?
Despite my countless attempts to remove all memories of Wesley from your mind over the past four years--and I admit going to different colleges made the task harder--you seem set in your ways. For the last time, here's a list of reasons you shouldn't try this:
1. Wes Givens was a total douche-lord in high school. Must assume he wore some kind of invisible anti-douche shield when he was around you. Will consult various comic books about said garment.
2. You are so much better than Wesley Givens. You, my friend, are cool, fun, and kind. Three adjectives that could never be used to describe Wes the Less.
3. Wouldn't you rather spend these two weeks as a carefree, recently graduated, soon-to-be law student? You're about to move to Washington, DC. This makes you infinitely better than Wes-peaked-in-high-school-Givens.
Heed the advice of your oldest
(and coolest--even if I wasn't cool in high school due to lack of high school footballing) friend. Avoid Wesley Givens.
P.S. Train station -- Friday night -- check.
P.P.S. I've missed you.
THE TRAIN HORN LETS out a loud welcome, and I step down the steps and onto the platform. My bags weigh a ton. Thank God my parents drove to Syracuse for my graduation and brought most of my stuff home with them. No way would I have been able to drag everything else through all the train changes and switches back to Pennsylvania.
"Lana-Banana."
I hear Ford's distinctive bellow as it mixes with the other noises of the train station. The chug of the engine as the train moves again, the voices of people reuniting, and the scraping of luggage wheels against the concrete.
I smile in spite of myself. Ford Campbell has been my best friend since the fourth grade. Ever since the day some kid was making fun of him in the cafeteria, and I decided to show my support in the only way a nine-year-old could. I made him a red-and-blue friendship bracelet. Then we were forever linked as best friends. A weird notion, I've always thought, since we are complete opposites. Apparently, the saying is true and opposites do attract because we've always been inseparable.
Well, until we went to different colleges. But I was only in upstate New York and Ford was in Boston. So, we still got to visit a couple of times a year. Besides, it's not like we live in the Dark Ages. We've texted on a daily basis for the past four years and FaceTimed like every other day.
Now that I think about it, he should totally be sick of me.
Only Ford never gets sick of me. That's one of his better qualities, I've always thought.
Bounding over to me with his signature lopsided grin, floppy brown hair, and light green eyes, I can't help but smile. Ford is the most positive, optimistic person I know.