When I exited my bedroom that Sunday morning, I found Jenny almost immediately. She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping soy milk through a straw, and typing away at her keyboard. Maybe she was writing a new novel. I smirked at the way her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

I made my way to the bathroom, readying myself for a shower. As I stripped and then stepped into the warm water, I felt a lot of emotions escape me. My shoulders loosened up, and I let my head hang. The water covered me, and I sighed out loud. The previous night was frustrating, seeing as a certain Latina girl won’t leave me alone. What did she think? I wanted a commitment? Please! I don’t even know the meaning of the word.

“Shane?” I opened the shower curtain to lock eyes with Jenny. She had a look upon her face that sent a signal to me. A distressed signal.

“What is it?”

“I…need an opinion. When you’re done, could you come read my novel?” she asked. I smirked.

“Yes. I’d be glad to.” Jenny smiled, and made her way to the door. She glanced back at me once more, then left, closing the door behind her. I finished my shower, cleaning off the debris of yesterday’s problems. I stepped back into the kitchen, clad in a white beater and black boy shorts, taking a seat next to Jenny. She slid the manuscript to me and waited as I read.

“She never knew what was facing her behind the red door, but she opened it anyway, feeling the heat of the body behind it seep into her.” I smirked at the several lines I liked and read aloud. Jenny waited patiently, drinking her milk, staying silent the whole time. I locked eyes with her several times, and she just watched.

“It’s good, Jen. It’s a good novel. What’s the problem?” Jenny grabbed it and placed it in a portfolio folder.

“It got turned down again.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Again? Why?”

“They said it wasn’t their type of material.”

“Not their type? What do they expect then – fairytales?” Jenny smiled for the first time in the past 15 minutes. I put an arm around her shoulder and leaned back in the chair.

“Fuck it, Jenny. I know you’re an amazing writer. You know you’re an amazing writer. That’s all we need. We don’t need some hot shot behind a desk telling you you’re great.”

“Thanks, Shane.” Jenny leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek before standing up. She fixed her skirt and placed her glass in the sink.

“I was thinking about going to The Planet for a few drinks,” I said, casually, “do you want to join me?” Jenny turned to me with a smile.

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’m heading to get dressed,” I said, standing. Before I could make it to my bedroom door, Jenny stopped me.

“Shane?”

“Yeah?” I asked, turning around. Jenny handed me a notebook.

“Take this.”

“What do I need this for?”

“Remember when I said I should get you a notebook?”

“Yeah,” I answered, flipping through the book, examining the white pages.

“Well, there it is. I want you to write in it.”

“You want to pick my brains?” I asked with a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.” Jenny smiled and made her way into her bedroom, fixing her hair. I went into my room to get dressed. I found myself turning to look at the notebook several times, smirking at the shiny blue cover.

Oh, Jenny. The things you’ll find when you read the book will surprise you.