You Are the Shell to My Tortoise | ✓

7

No wonder I hadn't been able to find it the past few days—it had been in his possession all along. I had spent hours writing all kinds of Alternate Universes for Harry Potter in it; it was almost all filled up.

The only one who had the privilege to read from it was Ashley, and even she didn't bother because she wasn't into the fan fiction scene.

But more importantly, this hobby of mine was something I was keeping under wraps at school because people tended to be judgmental.

Did he read it? Was I about to be socially doomed?

I was so flabbergasted that I didn't even have the strength to compose my facial expression. He looked concerned at the panic I must have been displaying as I reached out for my notebook.

"Hey, um, are you alright?"

"Did you look in it?" I asked him in return, hating the shrillness that crept into my voice.

The concern on his face faded into obvious guilt as he glanced away. "Well, uh, your name wasn't on the cover, so I had to open it..."

I wanted to hit myself. Why did I start writing my stories on the very first page? Why didn't I leave the first page with just my name?

Wishing that I could just wake up from this nightmare, I groaned. "Did you ... read them?"

Abruptly, he lowered his head. "I'm so sorry! I read everything! I know that it was a violation of privacy, and I knew I should've stopped, but your writing was just so good!"

I straightened up. That was not what I was expecting out of this conversation. "Really?"

With wariness in his light-brown eyes, he looked up at me. "Yes ... I liked the time travel one the most."

I felt like my brain was being flooded with contradictory emotions. The sheer joy of hearing someone praise my writing and saying that it was so good they couldn't stop made me want to sing and dance right there in the hallway. Conversely, I was still horrified that he had opened my private notebook and continued reading my stories without asking me. Obviously, the situation could've been worse—he could've sneered at me for being a pathetic fan fiction writer, but instead he was apologizing and telling me how much he liked my work.

I didn't know whether I wanted to squeal in joy or snap at him for peeking into my notebook.

Seeing that I was at a loss for words, Cody added, "I also wanted to talk to you because, well, I was really happy to find a fellow fan fiction writer."

"Fellow?" The word fell out of my mouth before my mind could fully process his sentence.

"I write Harry Potter fan fiction too," he said, smiling hesitantly.

I clapped my hand over my mouth before I could accidentally let out a scream of excitement. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I can show you some of my stories, if you'd like—" he broke off, looking uncertain.

"I'd definitely love that," I said, nodding eagerly.

We looked at each other with mirrored expressions of ecstasy and enthusiasm.

Running a hand through his brown hair, Cody winced as he said, "And I'm, well, really sorry about reading your notebook without asking. I know I should have stopped after the first page."

"I ... you really shouldn't have read my notebook without asking," I said, and his face fell even further. "That said, if you hadn't read it, I wouldn't ever have known one of my schoolmates writes fan fiction too. So ... I forgive you. I'm just glad it wasn't a diary. Just ask me next time if this ever happens again, okay?"