By: Arwen Kraatz
“What do you do when you have a dream that seems like it just may never happen?” I asked my best friend.
“And just exactly what would that dream be, Val?” Skylar asked with a crooked grin.
“I have always wanted to write the great American novel.” I blushed, hoping that she wouldn’t think I was crazy.
“What do you mean the great American novel?” she said exasperated with a confused look on her creamy white face.
“I want to write it. It’s the book that everyone wants to read and that everyone can relate to in some way. It’s an instant classic, talked about for ages. It’s the writer’s unicorn,” I said with a smile.
“Unicorn?” Skylar looked more confused than before.
“You know, a unicorn, a fantasy creature that no one can get their hands on.”
“Oh, well since you put it that way. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said sarcastically, laughing.
“Indeed,” I said smiling my big, bright smile.
“I knew you wanted to write, but I had no idea that you wanted to write books and something as crazy as a great America novel. So what will it be about? What does everyone want?”
“Well that’s the problem. I want to write about real life. The little everyday things, but that can get boring. Some people want to escape when they read. I don’t want it to be supernatural or fantasy. Even though those are some of my favorite books to read, but my imagination doesn’t work on overdrive like that.”
Skylar just smiled at me and told me matter-of-factly that she was sure I would get on the national bestseller list. Then she sat back and soon there was a blank stare on her face. By this look I knew she was remembering and thinking of something. Skylar and I had known each other for what seemed like forever. In reality it was only since the beginning of college five years ago. She had lived in the dreaded dorms for a year, and I had lived off campus. She moved in the summer after freshman year. I needed my own place. I couldn’t grasp the idea of sharing showers and bathrooms with everyone or not getting sleep because of your roommate, or whatever the case. We knew all the ups and downs, the goods and bad of each other. We both had so many stories to share with each other, and so many we made together.
We had met in English class. I was starting my major early. I knew I was going to be an English major because I had wanted to be a novelist my whole life. Skylar on the other hand had no idea, as most college students. She just knew it had to be a “fun” major, one that wouldn’t bore her to tears.
“So what do you think of my idea, Sky? Umm Sky?”
“What? Sorry Val, I was thinking about when we first met. I guess I got caught up in my thoughts,” she said with a mixed expression of being sorry and laughing.
“No worries, sweetie. I was just asking you what you thought of my idea.”
“Umm what idea? Sorry I guess I didn’t hear you.”
“My idea for the book! I think it should have some comedy and drama. Maybe a scandal here and there. What do you think?” I asked eagerly waiting for a response.
“Definitely should have some scandal! I like it, make it about life, with some monkey wrenches thrown in,” Skylar laughed almost maniacally. “But I think you should definitely go for it. I like reading your stories and I am sure the American public will too.”
“Thanks!” I said enthusiastically. I started thinking about being on interview shows promoting my newest work. I had been writing forever. I had written short stories and even had them published in larger book compilations. I had never been able to sit down and write and whole novel before. I could always get started but always had trouble figuring out the middle. I knew my new project would take time and patience. I guess I could integrate some of my own experiences into the novel. That may work; just change some things here and there. Oh well, I know I will figure it out. Skylar and I finished talking and reminiscing about our first year. Then we started talking about our new lives after college.
Once we graduated, I got a job as a webmaster. I would update the company website with news and other smaller articles, also write emails back to fans of the site. It wasn’t my dream job but at least I was writing and paying my bills. Skylar finally settled on a major at the middle of junior year, psychology. She loved the way the mind worked and all the theories of why people are, as she put it, “so messed up.” She worked at a bigger company uptown. Her official title was office therapist. She liked the call herself, “the person everyone comes to bitch to for not getting a raise or promotion.” Skylar was somewhat cynical and in general; thought people sucked. Maybe that would explain her being single.
I, on the other hand, was madly in love had been for years. I met him in second semester junior year. He and I had run into each other a few times, but never really stopped to talk for a long time. This time we were actually able to sit down and talk for a while. I got to know him a little bit better and liked what I was finding out about him. The main thing was that he made me laugh. Little did I know there was so much more to find out about him. He was tall and dark skinned. Brown gorgeous eyes, black hair and what she considered a perfect smile. This time he had finally noticed me as someone to date instead of someone he just ran into a few times. He asked for my number before parting and I willingly handed it over. That night he called. I could remember it like it was yesterday…
I had just gotten home from work and the phone rang. Most of my friends were over so I didn’t know who it could be. The voice on the other side said, “What you don’t know who this is.” I could do nothing but say sorry. “Man, that’s busted” said the voice on the other end. But I could hear him laughing and I knew he wasn’t really upset. Then I recognized the voice, it was Damien de Marco.
I was so excited. I knew I would have a fun time with him but I had no idea that he would turn out to be so much more. He was into music and acting, did some local theatre but nothing huge yet. For now he was dee-jaying at a local radio station. When he picked me up that night of our first date, I could tell he was a little nervous. I loved how small I felt beside him. He was a full foot taller than me. It was late at night, a lot of places had already closed, but we were both night owls. He drove all over the college town trying to find something decent to take me at ten at night. I finally just laughed and said, “I’m ok with burgers and sodas.” He looked at me, smiled, and said “Sweet! You are too cool.” We just laughed after that and went to Benny’s Restaurant and Pub. I had had a bad experience there before, but Damien was about to make me forget about all that. After our night, he took me home and walked me to my door. I never wanted the night to end. I finally had this gorgeous man interested in me, I couldn’t believe it. He leaned over, and my heart began to race, I was sure he could hear it, but he just kept coming towards me and kissed me. It was perfect. His lips touched mine ever so softly, then pressed a little harder, but still sweet. When his lips parted mine, my eyes were still closed and a smile crossed my face. “You can open your eyes now,” he smiled, with a laugh. I opened my eyes, still smiling, and then realized I was blushing from slight embarrassment. “Oh, thanks. I was a little, umm, caught up,” I finally managed to say as I bit my lower lip. “I love it when you do that. It’s so…adorable and innocent looking.” “I am innocent!” I looked down, and then raised my eyes up to see him from under my lashes. He was smiling. His brought his hand up to my face, caressed it. Then he put his hand under my chin and raised it so I was looking in his eyes. He leaned down, gave me a quick peck, pulled back, and said “good night Valerie.” I remember sighing and opening my door.
