Young Writers Society

"Oh sorry! I'm Deanna!" I say, flustered. This aprons way too tight, and the frilly red-and-white polkadotted material streches over my chest.
"Nice to meet you." I hold out my hand

Sunny

"Hi, Deanna," I said, shaking her hand. "You don't have to wear that if you don't want to," I continued, pointing to the girly apron she was wearing. "I don't know if that's some rule Cass has, but honestly, I don't think it's that big of a deal. I'm not going to tell her anything bad, anyway."

Raymond;

I readjusted my satchel as I walked through the entrance of the Cafe. I took a seat towards the back at a Booth, scooting over right next to the window. Pulling ouut my laptop from my satchel, I opened Word Processor and continued with a novel I was working on. For some reason, I worked better in public, but I never worked well WITH public...

Sunny

I walked back into the main room. Another guy had showed up, and he had sat down at a booth table with his laptop. Since there weren't many people here, I decided to walk around a little. I hopped up and swung my legs over the counter, dropping down on the other side between two barstools. "Hey," I said, leaning on the guy's table. "Whatchya working on?"

Raymond;

I flinched in surprise at the girl's sudden voice. I stuttered awkwardly. "Uh...A-uhm. Book. I'm working....on a book." I wanted to slap my forehead. I knew I was socially-awkward, but why did I have to prove that to myself time and time again? My eyes flickered from my tense hands at my keyboard to the girl several times. I studied her appearance and pictured her as one of my characters in one of my hundreds of stories.

Sunny

I had startled the poor guy. He seemed nervous. Sort of...twitchy.

"Oh, that's cool!" I exclaimed. I would have sat down, but he still looked a little traumatized. "How much have you written?"

Raymond;

I calmed down a little now that I had gotten used to her presence. I let out a deep breath. "About two hundred-or-so pages." I replied, my sentence a little more well constructed this time. "This is my second draft of the entire novel, though." I added quickly. "I've still a few hundred more to go, but so far, I'm moving. " I smiled a little; talking about writing - basically my life - always calmed my nerves. No had been interested in my work enough to ask questions. Ever. I appreciated it from the girl.

Sunny

"Jeez, that's a lot of pages," I remarked, sitting down on the other side of the booth. I had nothing else to do, really. And the guy had calmed down a little, so that was good. "Do you mind if I ask what it's about? ...It's okay if you don't want to tell me; I have a friend who's writing a novel, and she doesn't tell me anything, but..."

Rose

I stared at the sign...Cosmos Cafe. I'd seen it so many times when I was younger. Dad used to take me there every day after school. I wonder if Cass still works there? I don't think Sunny remembers me. I was only eight or nine when I moved to California. It was nice to be back, though. I re-positioned the strap of my messenger bag and took a deep breath. Here's to all the memories, I thought to myself and I pushed open the door.
I took in the smells that hit me like a brick wall and grinned. Just like old times. Well, almost. I grinned at Sunny...she'd gotten taller. The look she was giving me made me wonder if I really looked that different with my hair in a pixie cut. I took in the man beside her. He was pretty nervous and awkward but I could see he was a fellow writer. I walked up to the counter and asked the girl for a cup of coffee. It sure was nice to be back.

Raymond;

I smiled, looking up briefly when I saw another girl walk in through the door. "It's about a young boy who can't read or write. He's an orphan and he lives in a library." I replied. "What's your name anyway?" I asked, curious. I'd never met anyone so content on my writing, so of course I wanted to know her name!

The man asked Sunny for her name. I hated barging in on conversations, but I just couldn't help myself. I walked up to their table.
"Excuse me," I said tentatively. "I'm terribly sorry. Sunny? It's Rose. Do you...remember me?"

Sunny

"I'm Sunny," I said to the writer, before turning to Rose. "Rose," I mused. "Rose, Rose...oh, yeah! We went to school together, right?"

Rose

Sunny introduced herself to the nervous man and turned to me. I watched the memory flood back into her eyes and I sighed with relief.
"Yeah, we did. 12th grade English with Mr. Morris," I said with a small laugh. "I was kinda afraid you wouldn't remember me. It's been a while."

Sunny

"Oh yeah," I said. "I remember Mr. Morris. He was the one who had that desk calendar full of grammar rules, right?"

I turned around briefly. "Hey Deanna!" I called. "Can you bring a pot of coffee out here? Deanna works here," I explained to Rose and the writer guy.

Rose

I pulled out a chair as the new girl - Deanna, Sunny said - brought us coffee.

"Mind if I sit?" I asked. I glanced at the nervous man. "Writer, huh?" I patted my bag. "Me, too."