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Chapter Twelve

Sunday, June 24, 2018

I accept Daniel's FaceTime request when it pops up on the screen of my laptop. His always-smiling face appears.

"Hey, Kai!"

"Hi, Daniel."

"What have you been doing all day?"

My lips curl into a smile, thinking about the decision I made yesterday that may change the rest of my life.

After watching Daniel walk down the jetbridge to the plane, I said my goodbyes to the other Seavey family members and hurried to my car, a mess of emotions. I sat in the front seat for a long time, staring at the glass windshield, trying to figure out how I felt. So long, in fact, I was late to the diner.

My shift begins at seven-fifteen, but I didn't arrive until seven-fifty six. I was aware of this, yet I didn't make any move to rush. The manager excused my tardiness because I've never been late before and she could see right through the weak smile I shot at her when I entered.

I didn't eat lunch. I barely had enough will to drag myself to the bookstore later on that afternoon. I pulled into the small lot and looked at the sign mounted on the building reading Roselane Bookstore in cursive letters.

A rush of sadness ran through me when I remembered the dreary afternoon when a certain boy from L.A. walked in and turned my life and everything I believed about myself and my relationships with others around.

Suddenly, I felt stupid for feeling the way I was feeling and acting how I was acting. I sat up straighter, gripping the steering wheel.

Daniel is living his dream. You can't be mad at God for that. You can't sulk around just because you're not going to see him around town anymore. You can't hate the world because his career and best friends need him to return. You must be happy for him. In the nine days that he was here, he taught you more about yourself than you ever could.

He showed you that getting to know a stranger does not have to be awkward. He proved that true friendships can be formed in a time period as minuscule as a week. He encouraged you to do what you love. He didn't judge you when you shared your work with him. He told you not to doubt yourself. He swore that he wouldn't forget about you, that he never could. Most of all, he made you believe in yourself.

After that revelation, my face lifted. I finally understood what God was trying to convey to me through him. Daniel Seavey was a gift from Him, serving as the catalyst and inspiration for me in taking control of my talents and doing something with them, working towards my unknown future.

Last night, I sat down at the desk in my room, took a deep breath, and typed in the websites of the two editing and publishing companies that I've always dreamed of applying to, but have never considered for even a second because I've always believed that my work simply isn't good enough.

When Daniel texted me last night, I didn't tell him about my decision to apply to both, deciding to keep it a secret until I was ready.

Both schools require a sample- a few chapters- of a book you have written or are in the process of writing as the application you send in in order to be considered for being accepted.

I stayed up through the night, fidgeting about and obsessing over every little detail. At four a.m. this morning, I pushed send twice.

"A lot," I say, in response to Daniel's question. "I actually have some really exciting—"

"Daniel!" someone yells, cutting me off.

Daniel jumps in his seat a little and looks at me with wide eyes. I'm laughing when another boy lands next to him on the bed.