Beautiful People #5: Author Edition!

I’m participating in Cait’s linkup, Beautiful People. It is pretty awesome, and this time it’s all about the author! Let’s get to it…

1. How many years have you been writing? When did you officially consider yourself a ‘writer’?

I have been writing ever since I could hold a pencil and spell. Before I could write, I would tell my mom stories and she would write them down for me. In first grade, I wrote and illustrated my first full story. Then, in second grade, I write and illustrated another story, and my entire class wanted copies. [Except for two unnamed boys…] I’m just born to be an author. And fabulous. Obviously. But I didn’t actually call myself a writer until I forgot the whole “famous artist” thing and realized I was a horrid artist. Then I embraced my gift. :P

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2. How/why did you start writing?

I started writing from birth [see above] so I just…did. I have all these stories inside me that need to be let out. They’re not necessarily super inspirational or anything, but they need to be let out.

I also remember really wanting to have a book series as famous as Harry Potter, but with a female protagonist.

3. What’s your favorite part of writing?

My favorite part of writing is the first big idea that comes, either in the middle of the night or in class at school. I get so excited about it and plan everything out. Then, of course, once I sit down, it’s not so easy…

4. What’s your biggest writing struggle?

Not procrastinating. I have to turn off my internet and shut out Twitter to actually work. Otherwise, I’d never get anything done.

In my actual work, it’s staying away from instalove. THAT IS MY ACHILLE’S HEEL.* I guess I just want it to happen to me so bad that I make it happen to my characters. D:

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*Otherwise I am completely invincible. Obviously.

5. Do you write best at night or day?

I don’t really write at night. [Hi, bedtime!] But when I was NaNo-ing, I stayed up till 1-ish to finish. That was sooo much fun. I want to do it again. I usually write in the morning on weekends and evening on weekdays. It doesn’t really matter to how well I do.

6. What does your writing space look like? (Feel free to show us pictures!)


You asked.

7. How long does it typically take you to write a complete draft?

I only have one completed novel, so… I guess my 65k unfinished manuscript counts, too? Well, one took ten months, and the other one month, and my current piece is estimated to take about three months. I think most of my pieces in the future will be that long [three months] unless they’re a NaNo.

8. How many projects do you work on at once?


9. Do you prefer writing happy endings, sad ones, or somewhere in between?

Honestly, it depends. I like my readers to suffer [hehe] but I also want my characters to enjoy a happy ending. So somewhere in between? I do need to be a little evil, though.

In Nakoma, the ending was going to be LOTS of death and suffering but a good outcome. Bloggish was pretty sweet, and Untitled should be bittersweet. I think. XD

10. List a few authors who’ve influenced your writing journey.

J.K. Rowling, Rick Riordan, John Green, Cassandra Clare, Stephanie Perkins, Veronica Roth, Rainbow Rowell, Marissa Meyer, and Tamora Pierce.

11. Do you let people read your writing? Why or why not?

I let people read my writing because I like to get feedback. I’m also a little scared they won’t like it, though.

12. What’s your ultimate writing goal or dream?

My ultimate goal is to be a published teen author. But I just want to always be happy with my writing and have fun.

13. If you didn’t write, what would you want to do?

As well as being an author, I’d like to be a feminism activist. So that’s what I’d probably do if I didn’t write. But I do. So, this isn’t an issue.

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14. Do you have a book you’d like to write one day but don’t feel you’re ready to attempt it yet?

I know I want to write an epic fantasy saga, but I think I’ll wait until I have more experience and time.

15. Which story has your heart and won’t let go?

Currently, my new novel. I have fallen in love with Jack. And Margot. It is so cute and adorably awkward [right now]!

Bridget, Appletail, and Evi, please leave your email addresses below so I can send you the first chapter of my new novel. I can delete the comment afterword, if you wish.

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Revealing My New Novel

Almost everyone has been asking me about my new novel.

If you follow me on Twitter and/or Pinterest, you probably know more about it than others. Anyway, today I am going to tell you about my new novel. It is still untitled, because I feel like if I title something, not only am I unable to easily change the title, but it puts a box around what will happen in it, and I haven’t written it yet, so things are bound to change.

Let me first introduce you to the characters.

Jack is the main male character. I’m not sure about his last name yet. He is 17 and bisexual or pansexual. I am not sure yet, and once you learn about the female lead, maybe some people who know more about LGBTQ+ things could tell me which one would be more appropriate? He spends a lot of his time on Twitter and Tumblr. He came out ot his family when he was fifteen, and they were very supportive of him. So were his friends. Jack likes to read John Green books, listen to The Script, and eat red velvet cake.

 Margot is the main female character. She is 17, too. Actually, her birth name is Milo. If you haven’t caught it by now, Margot is transgender. She has not come out to her parents. [She does in the book.] She plays violin, enjoys dirt biking, and plays volleyball. She has a great group of LGBTQ+ friends on Twitter who she has come out to, and spends a lot of time tweeting them. Margot’s favorite food is pizza, and her favorite musical artist is Colbie Caillat.

This is set in September 2013-September 2014 in San Francisco, California, USA.

I actually made a graph of each chapter, the POV [because it switches], and the events. When I first sat down, I was completely overwhelmed, but I did it! So now I know everything I’m going to write–I just have to write it.

Here is a picture of my chapters graphed out:



That probably gives you most of the plot, but if not, here is a synopsis.

Jack, a pansexual teen.

Margot, a transgender teen.

Once they meet, both of their lives change. They instantly become friends, sharing their deepest secrets and insecurities. After a roadtrip along the California coast, Jack encourages Margot to come out to her parents. And when she does, her world comes crashing down around her.

Dun dun dun dun…

I know it’s not the greatest synopsis, because I’m trying not to give a lot away, but it’ll do for now.

I also have a timeline of how long it will take me, and the number of words per day.

741 words per day

5,187 words per week

20,748 words per month

To get 80k, it will take me 3-4 months. I’m shooting for 3 months, though, because April will come and with that Camp NaNoWriMo, and I’d like to do a different project for that.* So I’m going to write my butt off, while doing school things, too. And that will be Science Fair, and then–oh, yeah, I forgot–a hero’s quest story for English, which will take up my time, too. Joy.

*Yes, I know, I’m a writing machine.

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I’ve been watching a lot of videos about trans teens and kids to get more information and stuff, because I don’t want any of the things in my book to be incorrect.

Here is a short movie about a transgender boy…

and here is a longer documentary about a few trans kids…

On a partially related note, I don’t know if any of you know about Leelah Alcorn. Engie @ Musings From Neville’s Navel did a great post about her, and there are several tweets, too.

Leelah’s parents refused to accept her for who she is, and because of this, she committed suicide. My heart breaks for her.

Leelah was part of the inspiration for my new novel, which is why I put her in this post.

There are two petitions I’d like everyone to sign and share that concern Leelah’s death and trans people.

One is a request for Leelah’s mother to put her real name on her gravestone, instead of her birth name.

The second asks our president, Barack Obama, to introduce a bill that bans conversion therapy all across the USA. Currently, it is only illegal in two states.

Please sign the petitions; they need a lot of supporters.

Are you interested in my new novel? And would anyone like to beta for it? Tell me in the comments below. Also, MHM signup is open until 8PM PST time today. Go here to sign up.

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I Feel So Horrid About This…

I honestly feel so bad for posting this, but I need to tell you.

I am going to discontinue Starlight. If you don’t know what that is, it is my current novel that I started recently set in a fantasy world of my own creation, about this warlock who is trying to find her parents. [There’s a lot more to it, but that’s the simple version.] I have realized that fantasy isn’t really my thing. I was kind of struggling to write it and had a lot of contemporary ideas floating through my mind. In the future, I will probably try to pick up a fantasy story again, but for now I want to stick with what I know.

I think one of the reasons I’m struggling is the world. I actually got the inspiration for this story from world-building and several posts I read about it. I enjoyed creating the world and all the creatures, but once I got into the story, I realized that it just wasn’t my thing. There were too many technicalities to figure out, like how there was an ocean nearby and farming land and a forest and mountains, all in the same area. I like having something to work with, like the real world. And even in dystopian, you still have Earth to use.

The characters also were very difficult for me to write. I had an original idea for Starlight and Xen, but it changed, just within two chapters. I couldn’t get their characters right and I was constantly making them more sarcastic or changing a feature.

The main reason, though, is that I’m not very interested. I told myself that I was going to finish all the novels I started from now on [you don’t even know how many unfinished stories I have], but I realize now that that goal, although it means well, is not very realistic for me. I have now decided that until I have the first four or five chapters of a novel, I will not be sharing it with you guys or posting it on any website. I really don’t want to have to do this again.

I feel really bad about this, considering that I have also recently announced that Nakoma will not be finished in the near future. Hopefully, I will come back to Starlight in the future, but for now I’m setting it aside and working on an edgy contemporary. I will start outlining soon.

I would like to thank Bridget @ Stay and Watch the Stars and Evi @ Where Books Never End for volunteering and beta-ing Starlight. Maybe you two would like to take a look at Bloggish in the near future? :) You two are amazing and I am so grateful that you would spend some of your precious time on my novel.

To end on a happier note, I would like to remind you that my first installment of Feminist Fridays will be tomorrow!

I’m super stoked about this, so be sure to check tomorrow on my blog for my new feature. Also, the signup for My Hero Monday will be at the end of the Feminist Fridays post. I’m sorry for not posting it sooner; I’ve been doing a ton of travelling in the past week and a half and my computer kind of hates me sometimes. But I will be sure to have that up tomorrow, and hopefully have the schedule up by Sunday if possible. If not, I will take the first Monday and have everyone else on later dates, so don’t worry.

If you have never heard of My Hero Monday (aka MHM), it’s a linkup I created where bloggers do a post about a female hero every month. It’s a great way to learn about famous women who have made a difference, because I think we don’t have enough female role models who we learn about in school.

Sorry for the double post today, BTW, and for my very crappy review of Four.

I hope you all are having a very happy new year so far. I love you all!

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Cover for Starlight and Synopsis PLUS Where to Read It and Beta

Hello, blogglings.*

*Yes, I am quite aware of the long title. And I am not sorry.

I have done some things with Starlight. I made a cover, and a synopsis.


In a land full of fantastical creatures and few pureblood humans, a warlock by the name of Starlight is captured by the Court. Imprisoned and tried, she is found guilty of using magic against a human. Starlight is sentenced to Terram Nox, past the boundaries of her land, and into unknown territory, to die. However, a mysterious man accompanies her, determined to let her live.
Little does this man know, Starlight is not only attempting to survive the month of exile, but she is trying to find her dragon father, in hopes that he will lead her to her long-lost mother. As Starlight goes deeper and deeper into the Land of Night, she finds herself slipping away, becoming part of the shadows.
Will Starlight ever find her parents? Or will she become a shadow, forever tied to the evil land? And will she learn to trust and find friendship in the one who wants it most?

Are you intrigued?

I’ve also made it possible for you to read it! I published it on Figment, a great website to share your writing. You can view Starlight here. For those of you who don’t have Figment accounts, I will tell you when I update it and post the link here.

Let’s talk about beta readers.

I’d really like a few people I can send each chapter to and get feedback on it. If you’re interested, tell me in the comments below. Consider the following before jumping to the chance:

  1. Will you give honest feedback?
  2. Will you give constructive criticism?
  3. Are you an experienced novelist?
  4. Are you interested in my novel?

If you said “yes” to any of these, why don’t you comment below?

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School is almost out! Just a few days to go and then we’re on break. :)

I hope you like Starlight and are considering being my beta reader. :) Also, if you haven’t follow me on Twitter; my username is @revelinginwords. If you don’t have Twitter, not to worry. If you look at the sidebar you can see all of my tweets!


My New Novel: Starlight

Happy Friday! :)

I decided I’ll tell you about my current story/novel/project/thing, Starlight. [Or so it is currently named. IDK.]

I started it when I was reading some blog posts about world-building. I began to create my own fantasy world, and a story was born! I didn’t really outline, besides the world-building, so I don’t know if it will happen. But I’m in that euphoria-feeling when you first start a story, y’know?

Starlight is a warlock. In my world, warlocks are the offspring of a dragon [usually the father] and a pureblood human [usually the mother]. So the dragon in the background of the third image is her father, Deadwood. Starlight’s full name is Starlight Xena Aquarine. She has RED hair, blue eyes, and skin so pale that you can see her veins. She can change the color of her skin tone as she pleases; sometimes it changes with her emotions, if they’re really strong.

So now, my world-building, which inspired my story. I created a government, military, social class system, a bit of religion [still developing], the creatures that live in this world, and a map!

GOVERNMENT: It is a matriarchy, which means women are in dominance. I thought this would be a cool twist. [And just to let you know, I am a feminist, however I don’t think women are above men. We are equal.] And in the government, there are three sections: queen, priests, and the Council. There is one queen. The queen cannot become married or have any children. They vote on women to be queen. There are two priests, who advise the queen and are her second-in-commands. The High Priest os above the other one, generally bossing her around. :P Lastly, the Council is made up of fifteen women. They also help to advise and stuff. Mostly the Council and the priests make the queen’s decisions, while she takes teh credit. Most people think the government is corrupt and untrustworthy.

MILITARY: I wasn’t sure whether to mention this or not, but whatever. All people/creatures [excluding sirens, merfolk, and dragons and other wild animals] have to fight in the military for two years once they are eighteen, unless tehy are injured. They have archers, people on horses [unless they’re centaurs or satyrs], a frontline with swords, and cannons. The queen fights. In fact, she leads the charge.


  1. Elites: They are pureblood humans and very wealthy. Usually, women from these famiies become a part of the government.
  2. Bourgeois: They are mixed blood, but part human. They are the middle class–not poor, but no rich either.
  3. Proletariat: They are mixed blood, but usually more creature than human. They are poorer.
  4. Back Alleys: They are creatures, some mixed blood. They are looked down upon and very poor. They live in the Slums.

RELIGION: Their religion is still developing, but I will tell you what I know. They worship Mother Nature, or Mater Natura. Their religion is called Bellatorum de Natura, more commonly reffered to as Bellatorum. This means “Warriors of Nature.”


  • Humans: mortal, uncommon
  • Merfolk: immortal, gender neutral, and the only way to become one is to be lured into their cove and eat any food they offer you
  • Centaurs: mortal, common
  • Satyrs: mortal, common
  • Elves: mortal, common, age one year in half a human year
  • Nymphs: mortal, uncommon, age five years for one human year
  • Sirens: immortal, uncommon, female only, cannot produce offspring, sirens are made by a child being stolen and forced to eat magic underwater
  • Vampires: immortal unless injured/killed by a pureblood human, common
  • Werewolves: mortal, common
  • Warlocks: immortal if they choose to be, otherwise they age like humans, uncommon, try to stay hidden
  • Dragons: uncommon, do not age but can die if injured or sick, when they mate with a pureblood human their offspring is a warlock

Here is an excerpt:

The priest, Roselle, sighed and placed the parchment onto the mahogany table in front of her. She hated warlock trials.

She eyed her colleagues. High Priest Ingrid sat in her chair with her back perfectly straight, her mouth set in a grim line that matched her stormy gray-eyed expression. Ingrid’s hands were clasped tightly on the table. Her graying blonde hair was in a braid down her back. She wore the white High Priest robes and a necklace of delicate beadwork was draped over her shoulders and around her neck, gracing her bosom.

The fifteen women of the Council sat, expressions taught, simple gray dresses as their clothing. All their hair, ranging from the palest blonde to the deepest brown, was in a bun. They seemed to be copies of each other.

That was what Roselle could not stand. The sameness of it all, the identical robes and hair and faces. She reveled in seeing creatures other than humans; they were beautiful, all different, none of them clones. None of the merfolk had the same color scales; the elves all wore different eyes and lips and noses; the centaurs sported all shades of coats.

Sometimes, secretly, Roselle envied the hated creatures.

High Priest Ingrid coughed. The Council rose and bowed, as was the custom. Roselle stood and nodded at Ingrid to begin the trial.

“Guards, bring in the warlock,” Ingrid ordered.

The two women standing at the doorway, swords and shields in hand, nodded quickly. Their armor made soft clinking noises as they walked down the noiseless hall of the Cubiculum. There was a room at the end of the hall, Roselle knew, made of diamond and iron. The diamond prevented magic to be used, and iron was the best metal to use. Especially for a prison.

Just as soon as they’d left, the two guards returned, the warlock in between them. Roselle’s heart melted as soon as she saw the girl. Her wild red–literally, red, not auburn or orange–hair was knotted in a wild mane. Her eyes were brilliantly blue, electrifying and piercing. She wore a shirt and pants, now dirtied and torn. Her exposed arms and face were pale, her veins sticking out.

“Starlight Aquarine,” Ingrid began, “we are here to prove whether or not you are guilty of hoarding magic and assaulting an innocent, unarmed, pureblood human. This crime is of the gravest significance, and the penalty is death.”

Roselle saw Starlight’s skin shudder and turn green. So this girl could change, she thought. I wish I could– She cut herself off. No. You are a pureblood human. You do not wish such fantastical wishes.

“We will bring in a series of four witnesses,” the High Priest continued. “But, first, I need to ask you a few questions. Do I have your utmost attention and the pledge of honesty?”

The question was rhetorical. You were forced to give your “utmost attention” and agree to the “pledge of honesty.”

“Yes, madame,” the warlock confirmed in a small voice. She was shaking in between the guards.

“Who is your mother?” Ingrid asked first. “Roselle, write this down.”

Roselle obeyed and dipped her quill in the indigo ink: dragon blood. She felt cruel to use it while a warlock was in the room–for all they knew, it could be the blood of her parent. But she began to transcribe what the young warlock said in careful handwriting.

“I never knew my mother,” Starlight said plainly. “She when when I was eight rotations old. I don’t remember much of her.”

“How curious,” Ingrid mused, playing with the girl. “Usually the females raise the children, since they are human. Who raised you, then?”

“My father,” she responded, not elaborating.

“And where is your father now?”

“He left when I was fourteen,” Starlight said. “The others in Mystica Silva said he crossed to Terram Nox through Pedum Ingressu, but I am not sure.”

“So you lived in Silva,” Ingrid said. “Interesting. What is your father’s name?”

Starlight fiddled with her hair. “Deadwood.”

The questions continued, the answers becoming curiouser and curiouser. Roselle began to become fond of the warlock girl, and was sad that she would be killed. But that was the way it was in the kingdom; it was the way it always had been, and Roselle was sure it would always be this way.

Finally, the questions came to a close and the first witness was brought in: a grown man, gaunt and dark-haired. His clothes were a bit used but respectable. He looked like a Bourgeois.

“Tristan Fawn,” Ingrid said. She then turned to Roselle and added in a whisper, “He has some elf blood a few generations back, but he’s mostly pure. I trust him.”

Roselle nodded mutely and Ingrid turned back to the Council and witness.

“Will you answer all of my questions honestly?” she asked. “Do you swear yourself to the queen and her kingdom?”

“Yes, madame,” Tristan murmured.

“Good. Let us commence.” Ingrid glanced down at a piece of parchment. “Did you see this warlock attack a human?”

“Yes, madame.”

“Please describe the event. Roselle–write this down.”

Tristan proceeded to explain what he saw. “I was in the market, madame, buying food for my family, when all of a sudden this warlock burst out from behind a tent and shot some fire out of her hands and at this woman. The woman screamed and ran.”

“Thank you, Tristan,” Ingrid said, looking pointedly at Roselle. “You are dismissed.”

Two more witnesses entered and left, each one with the same story. Roselle soon became bored and studied her fingernails. They were pale and rounded, smooth and perfect. When she was younger she used to bite them, but soon grew out of the habit once she entered the Academia. They didn’t permit bad habits; if they caught you biting your nails or some other nasty habit, they’d whip you with a stick.

“Roselle!” Ingrid exclaimed sharply.

“High Priest,” Roselle managed to get out.

Her face flushed crimson. Roselle ducked her head in shame. Priests were not supposed to daydream or study their nails. They had to be alert at all times. And Roselle had failed.

“The last witness will be entering,” Ingrid announced. “She is not just a witness, though, she is the victim.”

I hope you enjoyed learning about my new novel! I will try very hard to finish it. :)


Beautiful Books #3

1. On a scale of 1 (worst) to 10 (best) how well do you think this book turned out?

Right now, before editing, it’s probably a 5 or 6, if that.
2. Have you ever rewritten or editing one of your books before? If so, what do you do to prepare yourself? If not, what’s your plan?

I’ve never edited before [this is my second novel], but this is my plan:

Look at scenes and figure out which ones to keep, edit, and trash. Also add scenes as needed.

Pick apart scenes and get to the technical stuff.

Focus on wording and how it flows.

And drink lots of tea. :D
3. What’s your final wordcount? Do you plan to lengthen or trim your book?

My final word count is 40,000 words. I will lengthen it, definitely.
4. What’s are you most proud of? Plot, characters, or pacing?

I think the characters are this novel’s best aspect. They all really have a personality. I’m very proud of them.
5. What’s your favourite bit of prose or line from this novel?

Unfortunately, I don’t have a quote right now because of computer issues, but I really do love the lines when they all meet up at Starbucks for the first time.
6. What aspect of your book needs the most work?

The plot. ‘Nuff said.
7. What aspect of your book is your favourite?

The romance. DUH.
8. How are your characters? Well-rounded, or do they still need to be fleshed-out?

I think most of my characters are well-rounded, but the ones that don’t have major parts will be deleted. [Sorry!] I do need to work on backstory, though.
 9. If you had to do it over again, what would you change about the whole process?

I would probably manage my time better and not procrastinate as much.
10. Did anything happen in your book that completely surprised you? Have any scenes or characters turned out differently to what you planned? Good or bad?

One of the characters, Jaz, snagged a bigger role than planned, and others faded into the background. Cait’s aunt is way crazier than planned. And I added a whole new character: Emile!
11. What was the theme and message? Do you think it came across? If not, is there anything you could do to bring it out more?

The theme and message was, um, Starbucks is awesome! And don’t date jerks! I think that definitely came across. ;) [Honestly, this book isn’t about learning a lesson. It is about having fun with friends, learning about each other, and experiencing first love.]
12. Do you like writing with a deadline (like NaNoWriMo) or do you prefer to write-as-it-comes?

I do better writing with a deadline, because otherwise I will just procrastinate.
13. Comparative title time! What published books, movies, or TV shows are like your book? (Ex: Inkheart meets X-Men, etc.)

Fangirl meets The Summer I Learned to Fly with a bit of The Kind of Friends We Used to Be. Kind of. XD
14. How do you celebrate a finished novel?!

Well, I finished in the middle of the night, so I couldn’t exactly party or anything… But I think I silent-screamed. XD I will also be ordering those three Stephanie Perkins books ASAP.
15. When people are done reading your book, what feeling do you want them to come away with?

Happiness. :)

I hope you liked this tag! If you didn’t, then too bad. I had a lot of fun, at least. Toodles!


Book Haul + Life Update + Bloggish Revision Ideas


I got bookies!!!

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From top to bottom:

Looking For Alaska by John Green

Pretties by Scott Westerfield

The Bane Chronicles by Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan, and Maureen Johnson

So, yeah. I’m excited! My dad said I could only get three books (and only one hardback!!!), so it was very hard for me to choose. I will hopefully read The Scorch Trials next, if my classmate lets me borrow it, then Pretties, then The Bane Chronicles, and then Looking for Alaska.

I haven’t been posting as frequently as I’d prefer to, mainly because life (and YouTube) have been grabbing me and not letting go. If you missed me, I missed you, too! *hug* And if you didn’t, well, that’s FINE. Anyway, I just thought I’d do a quick update on my life.

School just started up again after Thanksgiving break, and I am feeling the workload. Homework and projects and studying for tests have caught up with me. In math, we have a test next week, I just finished a project in humanities, and we’re doing a project in science tomorrow. AND I have to memorize my monologue for English. [It’s about this girl who is lesbian and her girlfriend committed suicide two months ago. Every day she wakes up, not sure if she wants to live.] Thankfully, I only have two weeks of school and then we have winter break! YAY!

I had my choir concert on Tuesday night, and we. Freaking. Killed it. It was so much fun and I think we sounded great! We performed in a church, and one pew was made up entirely of people who came to see moi. So awesome. I’ll be starting choir again in January 2015. We’re going to perform at Great America! [For those of you who don’t know, Great America is an amusement park with rollercoasters and lots of fried food. Fried Twinkies, fried Oreos, fried funnel cake–you name it, you can fry it. (Sadly, I don’t like rollercoasters. Or fried food.)]

We will be beginning the mandatory science fair soon, so I am bound to be slammed with work. One of the ideas I had for my project is how sustainable ereaders versus paper books are. Fun?


As you probably know, I wrote a [short] novel during NaNoWriMo, and I am planning to edit it. I thought I’d share with you some of my ideas for revisions!

My order of editing/revising:

1. Look at scenes and figure out which ones to keep, edit, and trash. Also add scenes as needed.

2. Pick apart scenes and get to the technical stuff.

3. Focus on wording and how it flows.

4. Repeat until perfect.

I think I’m going to be cutting some characters. There are some who just don’t move the plot along and don’t really say anything, and I can easily delete them. I will be keeping Cait, Jaz, Belle, Brandon, Kai, and Dean, though. :)

That’s all for now, my lovelies. Happy December and soon-to-be-official winter! Have you read any of the books I bought? Do you want to read them? Tell me in the comments below.


Weekly Wrap Up #13|The Finale of NaNoWriMo

Happy Sunday!

Hey, you. Yes, you. Right there. Guess what? I won NaNoWriMo! With an ending total of 40k, I won. So I will be posting the winner’s badge in the widget section. I was up pretty late last night because I was so close to finishing. A lot of it is pretty terrible, but I’m proud of myself. Before I post the last excerpt of Bloggish and a few announcements, here is a list of things I learned from NaNo/what I want to do next NaNo:

  1. Use a USB drive. This saved my life several times, considering the fact that my computer has charging issues and crashes on me at random times. I believe we’ll be saying goodbye to Della soon. :(
  2. Story time: Once upon a time, two years ago-ish, we had fitness testing in PE. [Which I despise.] My best friend at that time was my partner. I was doing sit-ups, and she was pushing me on. Back then, I thought she was saying “It’s all on you,” but now I realize she was saying “It’s all in you.” As in, you’ve got it in you; now let it out. This is very true for NaNoWriMo, too. Everything is in you already; you just need to let the words out.
  3. Don’t even think about giving up. I was planning to not reach 40k. That was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought. Yeah, maybe I was behind and had only three days left to finish, but I was going to reach 40k. Push yourself. If you’re reading this today, on the last day of NaNoWriMo, and you’re procrastinating on the internet because you have 4k to write, go write! Leave! Now! Begone with you! Come back when you have 1k. DO NOT give up. DO NOT be okay with not winning. DO NOT procrastinate.
  4. If you finally get that one push to write, keep writing until all that push is gone. It was nearing midnight when I was finishing up; I was on a roll. There was no way I’d go to bed. Now, I know, many of us have parents who don’t want us to stay up super late. If you really have that one push, just beg them. Bribe them. Tell them you’ll sleep in tomorrow [although Monday is tomorrow, so, uh, good luck with that…].
  5. It is okay to write crap. Mainly, I’m just reassuring myself about my writing, but, honestly, IT’S OKAY. That’s what NaNo is about: just get words written on a screen, the basic plot idea. I have only a few true gems. And my ending…*shudders*…let’s not talk about it. It was the middle of the night, my eyeballs were going to die…Yeah. Fun stuff.

Now, here’s the excerpt: 


The tree was beautiful, sparkling with red, green, and yellow lights. The trees were always one of my favorite parts of Christmas. The evergreen, wintery smell, that couldn’t be replicated in a little neon green cut-out.

“Meow,” my cat, Pancake said, jumping into my lap.

“Meow to you, too,” I told her and stroked her arched back.

My panic attacks had worsened once I got back from New York. I could hardly stand a day without collapsing for ten minutes. But I was learning how to control them and my fears. I was determined to defeat them and not let them take control of me. That was not how I wanted to live my life, scared to death all the time. I wanted to be free and happy and beautiful, and learn to fly.

The doorbell rang, and my heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the panic-attack-is-about-to-happen-oh-my-god heart skipping a beat, but the wonderful in love feeling. Because I knew who was behind that door.

I shoved Pancake off my lap. She frowned and meowed at me. I ignored her and dusted the cat fur off my lap. Was Emile allergic to cats? I didn’t know, and brushed myself off the best I could. Which meant cat fur anyway.

I opened the door and was immediately enveloped in Emile: the way his brunet curls bounce don his forehead, the quiet smile lines on his smooth face, the way his hands met my waist and spun me around, the scent of sharp, sweet cinnamon.

“And here he is!” my mom exclaimed, wiping her hand son her pants as she entered the doorway. “Prince Emile, known throughout the land but seen by no one. Until now, that is.”

He laughed and hugged my mom.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Everen,” he said formally. I grinned.

“Oh, call me Eva,” she insisted, then did a double-take. “I sound like exactly every single mom who meets her daughter’s boyfriend. I don’t give a damn what you call me!”

Emile smiled at me as my mom pranced off to the kitchen.

“You’re mom’s…chill,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed. “You should see her when I forget to clean my room. Then she’s a monster.”

We sat down on the couch by the fireplace. I snuggled up next to Emile and he hugged me tightly.

“I missed you, Caity,” he said, and kissed the top of my head.

I smiled and kissed him back. “I missed you, too.”

“Eww!” a voice behind us screamed. “Mo-om! Caity’s kissing a bo-oy! And he looks old!”

I grinned and kissed Emile again, right in front of my little brother.

My mom laughed from the kitchen. “It’s okay, Trev. She’s allowed to. And he’s not that old. At least I think he isn’t.”

“Why don’t we go to my room?” I suggested.

“Good idea.” Emile smiled.

I led him upstairs to my tiny bedroom. I was still hardly used to it after living in a large penthouse for so long. But it was good to be home.

“Are you okay, Cait?” Emile said seriously as we sat on my bed next to each other. “You’re doing okay with the…panic attacks?”

“Don’t worry.” I waved his concern aside. “I’m controlling it. Tell me, how are things in the Big Apple?”

Emile grinned. He seemed to always be smiling. “Same old, same old. I think Audrey’s dating Ben now.”

“Oh my god!” I squealed. “Why didn’t she tell me? I am so going to text her tomorrow!”

Emile laughed. “Besides that, everything’s good.”

“And you?” I asked. “You’re doing okay without me?”

He smiled again. “I keep remembering you’re here, and not there. I’ll think, ‘Oh, I should get Cait a latte’ and then I remember that I can’t.”

“Oh my god,” I said. “That is too adorable. And so Tumblr!”

He rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, how’s blogging?”

“Glad you asked,” I said. “It’s been great. It almost feels like everything’s normal now, y’know? Whenever I get online I can just catch up with any of my blog friends. When I’m blogging, everything feels…just really okay. Like nothing’s changed at all.”

“Yet everything has,” Emile chimed in.


It was still awkward around Dean. Every time he was online, I deliberately avoided communicating with him, mostly out of fear that I would get another panic attack. I thought he was kind of sorry, because he set off the attack. I just wasn’t ready to face him yet.

We sat there, in awkward silence. It was kind of comfortable, but awkward all the same. Then my mom called us down for dinner and we went downstairs, hand-in-hand. My mom smiled when we came in. She looked so happy, so carefree. And I thought she was really happy for me, too.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, noticing his absence.

My mom scowled. “Traffic,” she replied. “I swear to God, I will be so fucking happy when there are flying cars. I would sacrifice my firstborn for them!”

“Hey!” I said, but smiled. It was good to hear my mom passionate about something, even if it was traffic.

“Oh, my mom cusses a lot,” I whispered to Emile. “Just thought you should know.”

“Thanks,” he whispered back. “My life is now finally complete.”

I kicked him under the table.

“So, Trev, what’ve you been up to today?” my mom asked.

Trevor smiled widely. “I was playing ninjas with Lucas. I beat him five times.” He beamed again. “But then I helped Lucas, ’cuz he was sad he lost.”

Emile smiled at my little brother. “That’s very noble of you, Trevor.”

Trevor didn’t even say thank you, that little brat. He just glanced at Emile and asked, “So who’s that again?”

“That’s Emile, Cait’s boyfriend,” my mom replied, gesturing with a forkful of broccoli. “Say ‘thank you,’ Trev. Emile gave you a nice compliment.”

Trevor turned to my boyfriend. “Thank you. How old are you?”

Emile smiled a wide grin. “Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen next month.” Then he shoveled a giant bite of spaghetti. Somehow he made eating spaghetti seem graceful, when, in reality, everyone looked stupid when they ate it.

I went to bed full. Emile was sleeping on the couch, so I said goodnight to him and when upstairs to my room. I set the alarm on my phone to go off at midnight so I could set presents out under the tree without anyone knowing.

I changed into my pajamas and slipped under my covers, my phone on my nightstand.

One of the things that kept me up at night was having a panic attack while I was asleep. The doctor had told me it was perfectly probable. Which scared me even more. Just the thought of thinking I was dying while I was trying to sleep scared me. When it happened while I was conscious, at least I had people talking to me.

I would stay awake almost all night long, too afraid to close my eyes. I kept of store of chocolate-covered coffee beans under my bed in case I couldn’t sleep at all, no matter how hard I tried. Then I would just pull an all-nighter and finish homework or chat with my friends on the other side of the world.

I curled myself into a ball in my bed. I ahd promised myself tgat I wouldn’t have any panic attacks while Emile was here. Not even while I slept.

I just couldn’t sleep. It was those night-before-Christmas jitters when you so desperately want to look out your window to see the reindeer.

At midnight, I crawled out of bed and gathered up he presents for under the tree. I tiptoed downstairs in my socks and set them under the beautiful tree, which was turned off for the night.

Emile was asleep on the couch, his hair briefly fluttering as he breathed. Carefully, I sat down on the couch and stroked his lovely curls. His eyes opened and he kissed my wrist.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered.


He lifted the blanket and I climbed in next to him, my head on his chest. I could hear his beating heart right next to my temple.

“Tell me a story,” I whispered.

“I don’t know any stories.”

“Tell me about your family, then,” I insisted. “I want to know.”

He laughed softly. “Well, my mother, she’s a big, round woman. Filipina. She loves to cook. She used to be a chef at a restaurant. Her name’s Philippa, which she hates. So everyone calls her Phippa, which she thinks is only slightly better. Apparently, I inherited her smile. She smiles a lot.”

“Like you,” I broke in.

He nodded, and his chin hit my head.

“My dad…well my parents are divorced, and I didn’t see much of my dad. I got his hair, though. I just remember the smell of aftershave when I think of him. And my brother tugging on his beard.”

“Tell me about your brother,” I prodded.

“He’s dead,” Emile said frankly.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“It happened a few years ago. But he was a great older brother. His name was Arnold. Sad name, I know. He had the best, biggest laugh, and was nice to everyone. He was going to be married, actually. He got killed in war, though. All I can say is at least he died fighting for our country.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“I have this one crazy aunt.” Emile paused. “You wanna hear about her?”

I giggled. “Of course.”

“Her name is Lolita. She has this frizzy black hair that shoots out of her head like she put her finger in a socket. And she can’t cook to save her life. She burns water.” I laughed. “And she owns, like, thousands, of mice. She keeps them well-fed and whatever, but it’s just so weird. I only have to see her if there’s a huge family event. Otherwise, she keeps to herself.”

“That’s pretty crazy.”

“You haven’t even heard about my cousin, Jonas!” Emile exclaimed. “That’s a freak. He collects rubber ducks and has like, a million of them on shelves. And he just keeps them. Apparently, he’s really smart, though. I’ve only met him once or twice, at like a wedding. And my mom forced me to talk to him.”

That was how we spent Christmas Eve. Telling stories about relatives and laughing. Finally, we got tired. Emile rested his head on mine and drifted off. And I was never happier, lying on that musty old couch, the evergreen tree quietly observing in the corner, Emile breathing quietly. It was better than any of my wildest dreams.

There was a feeling you could sometimes. Perfect. Sweet. Fluffy and happy. Maybe you got it when you shopped with your mom or went to the movies with your friends. Whenever you got it, wherever you got it, whomever you got it with, it was special. That glorious feeling that creeps up your chest and into your heart, seeping into your soul and warming you up.

I didn’t care if Christmas ever came, if Emile and I sat on that couch forever. I would be perfectly content and at home. It wasn’t any wild dream; it was reality.

Emile’s easy breathing and fluttering put me in a stupor. No panic attacks, I told myself. You’re fine. Emile’s here. It’s Christmas Eve. Everyone’s rooting for you. Somehow, I made it through that night.


Don’t judge me.

I am not going to write or edit or worry about my novel for the entire week. Next weekend, though, I’m printing it all out and busting out highlighters and pens and pencils. That will consume my time…for a while. I’ll be posting regularly on here and AGV now, so don’t worry about that.

But what will I do about Nakoma?

I’ve been thinking about Nakoma for a while now. I see potential in it, but it’s gotten so long and the conflict is just d r a g g i n g  o n. I don’t feel like finishing it. Which is completely unfair to everyone who’s reading it. I do, however, have an idea that I need opinions on. What if I posted as much of the story as I had, and anyone who wanted to could take a stab at the ending? This novel’s just for fun, and I think it would be fascinating to see how others thought the ending would be.

Tell me what you think in the comments below.

But, wait! There’s more! Precious @ Clockwork Desires has started a book blogging tag that’s really fun. I’ll be doing it later this week. It’s called the A to Z Book Tag. Click the image below to learn more and participate!

I hope everyone had a fantastic NaNoWriMo. If you’re still novelling, good luck, stop procrastinating, and change your time zone so you have as much time as possible.


Weekly Wrap-Up #12

Hello, blogglings. :)

It’s that time…the weekly wrap-up! At this current time, my word count is 25,858 and I have not yet written today. I will, however, be writing shortly. There are just a few things I’d like to mention.

I read Uglies by Scott Westerfield, which I thoroughly enjoyed and gave four stars. I am now reading The Maze Runner by James Dashner and loving it too. I’m about halfway through that. I won’t be doing any formal reviews until November is over.

Speaking of November…it’s almost over! I am barely holding on to my daily word count.

frozen animated GIF

Kind of like Olaf holding on to his face. [Frozen is not old! I can still use GIFs of Olaf.]

And my computer is kind of being idiotic. IT’S NOT CHARGING!!! Which makes me very very very very very very very very very very very very very very angry. So I have my novel on a flash drive which I switch from computer to computer. It is highly annoying.

I am still extremely obsessed with 1989.

Do not judge me.

I decided that this week I would talk to you lovely blogglings about instalove. Because if you’ve read Nakoma, you know that instalove happened multiple times in that partly-finished book. And I am trying really hard to not have that in Bloggish. Cait and Dean have known each other for ages, so that’s fine. But, um, and I know all of you Cait+Dean shippers are going to hate me for this, Dean is not in the picture any more. He is gone. Adios. Enter, Emile, the cute taxi driver, and cue the instalove! Cait doesn’t even know his last name.

*is running away from the shippers an haters of instalove*

So yeah. That happened. And I swear it was an accident. I swear on Leo Valdez’s life!* Personally, I don’t mind instalove, because it’s like my every day fantasy, but IDK.


Anyway, here’s this week’s excerpt:

“What’re you doing out in the cold?” a voice behind me asked.

            A shadow of an umbrella loomed over me. I turned my head and saw that the voice was Emile. My haunting, yet unfortunately charming, ghost. I noticed how a sliver of light hit his chocolate curls in just the right way so they were tinged golden. He had a soft half smile on his face and his voice was that morning brew, sexy and dark.

            “Are you kidding?” I spread my arms wide and smiled at the sky. “This is beautiful!”

            “Lemme guess,” Emile laughed. “You live in San Francisco. They never see the light of day there, and when they do, it’s still cold.”

            “Actually,” I corrected him, “I’m from Monterey. Close, though, and that’s pretty much true for both cities.”

            Emile laughed again, which made me smile.

            “So, what’s with all the umbrellas?” I asked.

            “Oh.” He closed his umbrella sheepishly. “I guess people thought it would rain. Silly, I guess, but…”

            The sun was glinting off Emile’s caramel-colored skin, along with his hair. His eyes shone in the light. He looked like an angel.

            “My aunt’s apartment is right there.” I pointed to the dirty, white-washed building next to us.

            “I’ll walk you up,” Emile offered.


            He grinned.

            I led the way to the apartment complex. My heart was beating right out of my chest. What was going on? Was I falling for Emile, now, too? I tried to ignore my quickened pulse and knotted stomach. All my senses were on high-radar; Emile’s features seemed highlighted against the gray backdrop and I could see each hair. His breathing seemed to be right next to my ear. Emile’s cologne was sweet and sharp and reminded me of cinnamon.

            Emile opened the door for me and I stepped through. I hoped my face wasn’t red. He also let me enter the elevator first.

            “What floor?”


            He pressed the button and we shot up, although that wasn’t the only reason my stomach decided to practice gymnastics for the Olympics. When we landed on my aunt’s floor, Emile took the liberty of saying hi to Shelly.

            “Hi,” Emile said as the door opened.

            Shelly was in her uniform on lunch break. She smiled brightly when she saw Emile.

            “Oh, you’re the taxi driver,” she remembered, grinning. “Come in. Hey, Caity.”

            “Hey,” I said.

            “So, Emile, what were you up to with Cait?” Shelly asked casually, going into the kitchen and pouring the three of us soda.

            Emile ran his fingers through his hair. My heart fluttered.

            “She was walking back here from Starbucks so I decided to say hi.”

            “How sweet of you,” my aunt praised him. “Did you see Cait on TV last night? She’s going to have her own reality show!”

            I rolled my eyes. “First of all, I’m right here.”

            Emile clapped me on the back friendlily. “Of course, Caity.”

            Alarms went off in my body. He touched me he touched me! He called me CAITY!!! I told myself to calm down.

            “And second of all,” I added shakily, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, “most reality shows are shit and scripted. If I don’t get it, I’ll be okay.”

            Shelly laughed. “Well, hon, it’s true that reality shows are mostly crap-filled and unoriginal, but they’re entertaining! Just imagine, you get famous and then—Hollywood!” She did jazz hands at me. I cracked a smile.

            “But I don’t want Hollywood,” I protested. “I just want to be a book blogger and a writer and a cat lady. There is nothing more I want!”

            Emilie laughed, and I remembered his presence. “Those are some great life goals,” he said sarcastically.

            “You’re one to talk.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

            “For your information, the only reason I drive a taxi is to pay for my college tuition, okay?” Emile snarled.

            I held my hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I’m gonna go to my room. Thanks for stopping by, Emile.”

            I began to push him toward the door, which sent fireworks off in my fingertips.

            “Don’t be so rude, Cait,” Shelly scolded me. “Let Emilie stay if he wants. Invite him to your room.”

            I sighed. “Wanna come with me?”

            “If your aunt’s okay with it,” he agreed.

            Emile followed me to the guest bedroom, which was hardly clean.

            “Your aunt doesn’t think it’s weird that a guy is in your room, just you?” Emile burst out as soon as I closed the door.

            I laughed. “I’m basically a social recluse, so any kind of socializing is like gold to her. Even though I don’t live with her,” I added.

            “Right, you’re a Cali girl,” Emile remembered, and bounced onto my bed.

            “Heart and soul.”

            An awkward silence spanned the room, like a thin mist sheet.

            “So,” Emilie broke in, “you mentioned you’re a book blogger? What does that mean exactly?”

            I unplugged my laptop and sat next to Emile. I ignored my email and opened up my blog’s page. I was pretty proud of it. I learned coding and used advanced features to design it myself. I especially loved the logo, which Jaz made with a special program on her computer. She’d made practically all of our friends’ logos.

            I showed Emile my pages and the last few blog posts.

            “Being a book blogger means that you blog about bookish things,” I explained. “So I post book reviews, writing advice, fun bookshelve-y tags, stuff like that. I also like cooking, so I post the occasional recipe or cooking advice in here, too.”

            I handed my computer over to him and let him browse through the pages and posts. He examined my sidebar and the number of followers—everything. At last, when he was satisfied, Emile handed me the computer.

            “That’s pretty impressive,” Emile gushed in awe.

            “Yeah, I worked really hard on it,” I said, shutting my laptop’s lid and beaming.

            Emile ran a hand through his hair. I almost died.

            “I should get going,” he said. “Thanks for having me over and letting me see your blog.”

            “Anytime.” I smiled. “I might be in New York for another month.”

            His face lit up. “Awesome! Oh, hey, I don’t think I got your number.”

            We switched phones and I added myself as a contact in his. We also took selfies for the contact photos. I adjusted the light so I looked amazing and on point. Which was a bit hard to do, considering my hair was hardly brushed and I didn’t have on any makeup. Emile would have to see my natural beauty.

            When we switched back, I looked at his contact photo. And did a double take. Why was it that he looked like he’d just walked off a modeling shoot while I looked like a zombie unicorn with no horn?! Life was so unfair sometimes.

            “Bye!” I said to Emile as he exited the apartment.

            “See you later,” he replied with a wicked smile.

            And then he kissed me. It was too brief, just a second. Then he raced down the hall toward the elevator. I knew what he’d done. He’d made me not forget him, and text him later. Sneaky boy.

© Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved.

That just might be my favorite part ever. *insert emoji with hearts for eyes*


Weekly Wrap-Up #11


Week 2 of NaNoWriMo has happened, and my word count is sitting at 16,055. I made some very taxing mistakes this past week.

  1. I watched “The Voice” on Monday night. I ditched my writing [I had only written a few hundred words] to go watch my favorite TV show. That was the main reason I got behind on my word count. Needless to say, I didn’t watch it on Tuesday or Wednesday because I decided to be disciplined.
  2. I acquired writer’s block. I’m not using this as an excuse. But this week, my story seemed less fun and more work. My ideas were not working and I lost interest. I made a Pinterest board about my novel, though, to get inspiration, and one image actually inspired a scene! So that’s good.
  3. On Thursday and Friday I wrote virtually nothing. On Thursday I. Just. Didn’t. Write. And on Friday, I watched “Catching Fire” with my mom because MOCKINGJAY P.1 COMES OUT NEXT WEEK!!! sorry; I’ll be calm now.
  4. If you read my post earlier, “A Rant,” you know that my computer shut down this morning and I couldn’t find my flash drive and then I did find it and I hate my computer. >:( I missed at least an hour of writing time because my computer shut down, I was looking for my flash drive, and I was sulking. So yeah. That sucked.

But that is all in the past. I am determined to get to 20,000 words today. Because if I don’t, I will be SO BEHIND YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. ahem. [Does anyone know how to change the size and color of the text in a post?]

Did I mention: I updated my blog, as you can see. Unless you’re blind or reading this on your email. [I feel like bloggers are the only ones who check their email any more. All my friends just text and stuff, while I’m like, oh, what’s your email? and they give me “the look.” I don’t understand why people don’t email. It’s like a text, but easier to send and you can add long stuff.] But yeah, I got an upgrade for it [Thanks, Mom and Dad!] to make it prettier. I assume I can change the size and color of the text in a post but I DON’T KNOW HOW; SOMEONE HELP ME!

I am spastic this morning right now. See? I even forgot that it is technically the afternoon.

This week I will have three excerpts. They are all ships, OTPs, whatev.

He cracked a smile, and before I could take another breath, he swept me off my feet and kissed me, his breath hot on my lips.

“I love you,” Dean murmured into my mouth.

“Good,” I said. “I hate love triangles.”

He laughed lightly and kissed me again. We held each other close. Moonlight glinted off his pale face.

The thoughts that had run through my head only minutes before dissipated. But Dean’s muscles were still taught against my torso, like he was nervous. He leaned out of the kiss and I bit my lip. His beautiful blue eyes were set on me, only me.

I pulled him closer to me, until his forehead was resting on mine.

“Tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me what you’re not saying.”

There was something unsaid, a dark secret. There was more to the story than his supposed commitment issues. I saw it on his eyes. They were jaded and sorrowful, brimming with regret and secrets.

Dean worked his jaw nervously.

“I—I have to go,” he said suddenly.

“No,” I insisted. “Tell me.”

He pushed away from me. “You don’t deserve a boy like me, Cait; I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then he walked off, leaving me on the steps.

That is the Cait x Dean ship.

“Yeah,” Belle agreed. “You aren’t worth her time.”

Amanda turned around in her seat in the front. “But I know someone who is,” she said suggestively and wiggled her eyebrows. So someone else had noticed…

I grinned at Amanda and Belle and Jaz just looked confusingly back and forth between us.

“Wow, you’re clueless,” I said in exasperation, sighing. “Since my relationship didn’t work out, let me be a matchmaker.”

They were already seated next to each other. All it took was one little shove of Belle, who was closest to me, and they collided.

“Now, kiss,” I commanded. “C’mon, make the car steamy.”

Amanda giggled.

And they kissed. Belle made the first move, of course. But Jaz kissed her back. Then I looked away to give them some privacy. Amanda was practically dying of laughter.

“Finally!” she exclaimed. “I thought it would never happen. Except now Kai’s gonna be pissed off.”

“Oh, fuck,” Belle cursed. “I thought he knew Jaz was lesbian.”

I slapped my face. “Darling,” I said gently, “he’s trying to hit on you.”

We all erupted into giggles, and Jaz kissed Belle again. They were really adorable together. And maybe now the bickering would stop.

I realized I was now destined to be a third wheel. Crap.

[Sorry about the language. It is YA, after all.]

That is Belle x Jaz.

“Girl! If he’s making you like this, you need to stop caring about him so much. Oh, Goddammit, Kai wants to chat. Gotta go, sweetie. Just remember that you’re amazing.”

“I will,” I replied, smiling. “And tell that effing Kai ‘hi’ for me.”

Belle grinned, and the video chat ended. I knew she liked Kai, but he didn’t give her any trouble like Dean did for me. Kai was perfectly sweet and simple. We still analyzed him, though.

“Really?” Belle screeched. “We’re gonna freeze to death because it looks pretty?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m going inside.”

“While you’re in there,” Kai called after her, “will you take the trash?”

“Why don’t you?” she snarled before opening the Starbucks doors and disappearing inside.

Kai looked hurt as he gazed after her, as if in a trance. “Trash run!” He collected the trash and ran after Belle.

And that was Belle x Kai.

Which ship is your favorite? Tell me in the comments below.