Write Me A Love Story

27:

The food was amazing. From the vegetables to the steaks, the chicken, all the way down to their strawberry and chocolate desserts. While I couldn't finish my plate, I finished my glass.

I looked around the venue. The gold and blue colors were pleasing to the eyes. The whole aesthetic was perfect. I motioned at the surrounding space and the food, "This is amazing."

"I told you," Reece chuckled. "Pioneering Arts is good. I heard they care about their writers."

That was good to hear. I'd heard nightmare stories on the internet. Writers beware articles. Clearing my throat, I reached for the bottle of wine. Curiosity took over. "Are you signed with them, by chance? For your poetry?"

"No, not them." Reece reached for my wine and poured himself a small glass. He swirled the contents before smiling at me. "But I'm also with a publisher who cares for their writers. It's bliss."

It was good to know Reece was with a publisher who cared about him. Based on what Dolores had said with his last-minute change to his poetry book, all to add in a new poem he'd written for me, they had to be amazing. I doubted any other publisher would do that.

"Hey." Reece placed his hand over mine and clinked our glasses together. "Don't be nervous, okay?"

Was it that obvious? Was it all over my face?

"You got this, and you'll be fine," he added.

The second the words left his mouth, the lights in the venue dimmed. Murmurs and excited whispers filled the air. In the sudden silence, I heard clinking heels walking in.

I turned around in my seat and saw a woman with curly brown hair. A podium had been placed in the middle of the venue. As she approached it, a light shined on top. She rounded the brown pedestal and faced everyone in the room.

"Hello, hello," she said into the mic. Her brown eyes passed over each of our faces. "I'm happy to see all your smiling faces. My name is Rhonda Davenport, head editor at Pioneering Arts. Thank all of you for being here tonight."

Small applause filled the room. I looked around at everyone as I joined in on the clapping. Reece did, too. Then we quieted down when Rhonda raised her hands.

"I first want to say congratulations to all of you." She pressed her hands together. "You took the chance and entered your stories, and look! Writing a completed novel is amazing, so please, I want to tell you, even if you do not win a prize tonight, you've already won."

She said important words. We did win. I felt that victory when I reached the end of my novel. Yes, I had a severe panic attack when I made it there. I was here because Reece helped me see myself.

"With this being said, it is time to announce our winners." A man came out from the corners behind her and handed her an envelope. She nodded, quietly thanking him, before opening the flap. She pulled the contents out in one swoop. "In third place," she spoke into the mic, "we have Michelle Nichols and her novel Love Me First. A YA romance entrance with teens in high school trying to discover their sexuality. This was a beautiful piece of literature, a heartfelt coming-of-age novel." Smiling, Rhonda lifted the paper above her head. "Congrats, Michelle!"

A loud round of applause erupted. A young woman three tables over stood from her seat, covering her mouth as she quickly approached the podium to take the paper with her name on it. Rhonda reached out to hug her.

It was beautiful to see the excitement of other writers. I clapped louder in support. But I was nervous. Terrified. I held my breath as Rhonda looked at the next sheet.

"In second place, we have Jordan Brown—"

She couldn't finish the name. Immediately, a man jumped from his seat and whooped in the air. He walked over as Rhonda continued the winner announcement. "His novel The Power of Words, is a tale about young boys empowering themselves. I was brought to tears with this, honestly."

When Jordan took his sheet, she hugged him, too. He walked back to his seat with a grin.

"Now, first place—"

My face was hot, and my chest was tight. My lungs screamed for oxygen. Who was she going to call out next?

Rhonda got close to the microphone. "We have Chris Johnson! With his story Fire, Flame, Blame, an action-thriller filled with espionage, agents, and undercover spies. His story is an exciting read!"

The applause returned, louder than the other two. Was it because they knew him? Or was it because he was a top prize?

Shit. I didn't place. There was no way I'd win the grand prize. This was my first novel.

The man who'd originally come out of the shadows returned with a new envelope. He passed it to Rhonda before whispering in her ear. What did he say?

Reece leaned close to me from his seat. "Camila, I love you."

Those words. Those sweet, sweet words. I needed to hear it, to calm my heart.

"I love you, too," I said in return and softly kissed him.

The microphone moved. Rhonda cleared her throat. When I looked up, she'd pulled the paper out of the envelope and held it in front of her. She grinned. "For our grand prize, we selected a story that hit every emotion and found ways to document mental illness, dependency on love, life, and the need for survival. All of this creatively woven together in a Science Fiction tale—"

My heart stopped. She was not going to call me, was she? No, she couldn't be. Anyone could've had a similar idea. My choice wasn't original. It was everywhere in Science Fiction. There was love, cyborgs, and the end of the world.

"Our grand prize winner is Cyber End by Camila Rodriguez!"

I couldn't hear anything else after she called my name. The room wasn't silent because I saw the round of applause from everyone. I focused on my raging heart, my prickling skin, and the way peoples' mouths opened with soundless shouts. Was this all for me?

Reece placed his hands on my shoulders and gave me a gentle shake. When did he get up from his seat? "Baby, baby!" he cheered, kissing my cheek. "You won!"

I won. Grand prize. The big cheese. The applause and whoops were for me.

Tears welled up in my eyes as the room came back. I heard the shouts, the claps, chairs squeaking as people stood up. All for me.

"For me," I whispered as happy tears streamed down my cheeks. Looking at the podium, I saw Rhonda standing there with open arms. I would get a hug, too, just like everyone else.

Taking a deep breath, I stood and fixed my dress. It took all my willpower to get my legs to move. And when I stood before her and fell into her embrace, I closed my eyes and smelled her perfume.

This was happening. This was real. My dream of writing a book and becoming a published author was within my grasp.

"Good job, Camila," Rhonda whispered as she rubbed my arms. She passed me my paper and when I took it from her, I stared at it. Written in big, bolded calligraphy style font was my name, my story, and the grand winner underneath it.

I choked on my cry and covered my mouth.

"Are you okay?" Rhonda leaned in and looked at my face. "You need to breathe."

"I-I am breathing. I never thought it could happen to me," I said.

"It's important to take chances," her voice softened as she hugged me again. "And never give up."

I didn't. I took a chance. And when I turned around and saw Reece, standing, joining in on the applause, I smiled. Because he made sure I took this chance. He didn't let me give up, even when I wanted to.

I held the paper tightly before I ran over to Reece and jumped into his arms. I kissed his cheeks repeatedly until I made my way over to his lips. "I love you," I whispered. "Thank you for never giving up on me."

He smiled and stroked my chin. "I love you, too. And I never could. I made you a promise and I needed to keep it."

He promised to help me write this story. It was more than just words, more than books, there was heart, and there was love.

It felt like he helped me write this love story between us on this journey. And I was excited to see our next chapter.