Cece Writes A Book [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5 - "All pets."

Cece was floating on the same cloud of bliss when she entered The Thinking Cup late the next morning. With the success of the chapter the day before, her writer's block had taken a hit and let her have a full night of sleep. She had breezed down the street, the weight of her computer in her backpack now feeling like a trophy.

Warm sunlight and the fresh scent of coffee greeted her as she entered the coffee shop, but it might as well have been confetti and trumpets with how triumphant she felt returning to the Land of Promise.

The name might be dramatic, Elliot had informed her it was that morning, but there was nothing that could dampen Cece's mood. She was going to arm herself with an iced latte, find a table by a window and write the best chapter she had ever written.

Millie Kate glided down Main Street, her smile as bright as the sunlight bursting through the magnolia trees, still radiating the glow from her afternoon spent with Wesley James.

Millie Kate danced down Main Street, her skirts bouncing along with the jump in her step, her smile shining as bright as the sun, her chest still filled with the glow from the day before.

Millie Kate walked down Main Street, her eyes bright as she greeted everyone she passed.

Millie Kate walked down Main Street, wondering why she had left her house, glowering at everyone she met.

Millie Kate stared out her open door, hating the world and its brightness and cheer. She slammed the door shut and went back to bed.

An hour later, Cece knew she had spoken too soon. She drummed her fingers on the table as she glared at her computer screen. She reread the single line in the document. It was her forty-fifth try at an opening line and it only took one reread for her to delete it.

With every new attempt, her high spirits had started to fall and now they were just a soppy pile around her feet. Her drumming on the table quickened as her fingers tried to vent her growing frustration until she heard a subtle cough from the table next to her. She curled her fingers into fists as she avoided looking at the man sitting at the table working on his computer.

She pushed her chair back and grabbed her empty cup. If she couldn't drum out her frustration then she would walk it out, and fresh coffee would be a benefit.

Elliot had warned her not to place all her hope in the coffee shop. Over ice cream the night before Cece had told Elliot her theory that the coffee shop had cured her writer's block. Her sister had patiently listened, offering her jokes and insights like she always did, but had also offered the warning.

"Of course she was right," Cece grumbled in annoyance as she lazily walked around the coffee shop.

Cece had been a fool to think the coffee shop could cure her writer's block. She knew what would cure her writer's block and he was currently gallivanting around Europe without a care in the world while his girlfriend suffered at home.

He had sent her a picture that morning of him, Zachary, and Franklin posing in front of Big Ben. So high had Cece's spirits been that she had sent back a red heart. She felt naive thinking her writer's block wouldn't come for her. Now she wished she had sent a black heart and a knife.

Would he even care? Would he understand? Did people like Malcolm ever understand people like Cece? Was it nature or nurture that made Malcolm the way he was? Big questions began to fill Cece's mind and her footsteps began to grow heavier under their weight.

After three laps around the coffee shop, even in her dazed state, Cece couldn't ignore the weird looks from her fellow coffee shop occupants and she aimed her footsteps towards the register.