“Oh!” I suddenly remember. “Did you get a chance to read those chapters I sent you?”
River looks uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I haven’t had time yet. Between the audition prep and then the actual audition today, I’ve been swamped. But I promise I’ll read them soon.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I’m really looking forward to it though,” he adds quickly. “I’m sure they’re great.”
I force a smile. “No worries. I know you’re busy.”
But I can’t help feeling disappointed. Writing is so important to me, and I was excited to hear what he thought. The fact that he hasn’t even looked at them stings a little.
River reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Hey, I really am sorry. Once this audition craziness is over, your chapters are at the top of my list.”
“It’s fine,” I say, pushing away the disappointment. “I’ve been talking too much. Why don’t you tell me about what it was like to be a child actor.”
River tells me funny stories from his acting days, and I laugh at all the right moments. It’s pleasant. But part of me keeps wondering what Micah is doing right now and whether he’s read any of my book yet.
When River walks me to my door again, he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, not even trying for a kiss on the lips. I’m slightly let down by this, but part of me feels like I deserve it because I wasn’t really present during our date like I was trying to be. I was distracted by Micah, and that wasn’t fair to River.
“I had a really nice time,” I tell him, and I mean it. River is sweet. Any woman would be lucky to date him.
“So did I.” He steps back from me. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”
I suddenly feel really terrible for ruining our second date. For spending the entire time focused on Micah. I step to him and quickly give him a kiss on his cheek. “That sounds good.”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “What was that for?”
“Because you’re sweet. And I like you.” I blush after saying that, but River just smiles at me.
“Good night, Cricket.”
I watch him drive away, then I let myself into the house. The lights are on in the basement, which means Micah is still here.
“Cricket?” he calls from downstairs. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” I head down to the family room, where I find Micah sitting on the couch with a stack of papers in his hands.
His eyes are bright with excitement. “Cricket, this is incredible.”
“What is?”
“Your book. I printed your chapters.”
My heart leaps. “You read it?”
“I couldn’t put it down. I’ve been sitting here for two hours straight.” He waves the pages at me. “This is really, really good. Like, professionally good.”
I sink onto the couch beside him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“Are you kidding me? I had no idea you were this talented.” He shakes his head, looking almost dazed. “I mean, I knew you liked to write, but this… this is on another level.”
“You sound surprised,” I say, giving him a look.
“I am surprised. Not because I didn’t think you were good,” he adds quickly, “but because this is… wow. This is like, real-novel good.”
Despite my mock indignation, I’m glowing from his praise. This means more to me than any review from a professional editor could.
“Do you have more chapters?” He leans toward me. “Because I need to know what happens next. Does she ever tell him how she feels? Does he figure it out? Because honestly, this guy is an idiot.”
