It takes me a couple more months to finally write ‘the end’ in my first novel. I stare at the last page, the cursor still blinking lazily on my laptop screen as I realize I really did it.
I finished my first book!
A scream escapes my mouth before I realize it, and Chad jumps at my side on the couch, cursing at me when he splashes his cereal and milk all over the shirt of his uniform.
“f**k, Hays! That was my last clean shirt,” my brother grumbles, rushing to the kitchen to grab a towel. He comes back, still rubbing the wet stain from his chest, staring at me with wide eyes. “What the hell was that about?”
“I finished my novel,” I tell him excitedly, too worked up to control myself.
“Okay…congratulations. But next time, try to give me a heads up. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
