So the website was broken and deleted my posts.
This one was written on March 24th:
Spring break is this week and I’m
looking forward to no homework. I would
say I’m looking forward to doing nothing, but Adam and my mom have other
ideas. Adam always plans these ridiculous
schemes for us like hitchhiking to Disney World, while my mom wants me to
research colleges. I just want to relax
and not think about anything.
When I went to Shady Pines today, Christa
was grinning. “Read your latest post!”
she said. Maybe I should change the URL
so she can’t find it anymore. “I like
it. He’s really good at storytelling,
isn’t he, Mr. Henricksen?” My face got
hot and I stared at my sneakers.
Christa left and I barely sat down
before BEEP!
“Christa?” I asked. He nodded. “Yeah, right. It’s just for
school. No one’s even supposed to read
it.”
BEEP!
That’s a good question.
I didn’t have an answer. And even thinking about it now I have no clue
why I’m still writing this. I guess I
kind of like it.
So I told Mr. H. that. He nodded and looked out of the window.
I don’t know what made me do it, but
for whatever reason I asked him this: “Are you a writer, Mr. H?”
It was the first question I ever
asked about him. I didn’t realize until
that moment that he knew all this stuff about me and I knew nothing about
him. He looked at me and smirked.
BEEP!
He used my actual name. Weird.
I asked him what kind of stuff he
liked to write about.
BEEP!
That was only slightly vague. He saw the blank stare I had and
grinned. I smiled too. “Got any tips for me?” I asked.
He thought for a second before
typing.
I nodded. Seemed logical, though I wasn’t totally
convinced. Just because I love something
and want to read about it doesn’t mean anyone else would think it’s good.
Mr. H. read my thoughts and sent
another text.
I
think that’s the best advice I think I’ve ever gotten.
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