Page 12 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter eight

Pink Hats and Cease-Fires

Daisy hadn’t been able to wipe the grin off her face all morning.

Despite the ongoing humiliation of the flyer having gone viral, with texts and emails coming from people she hadn’t seen in years, her payback on Chad the previous night had gone great; and with that out of her system, she was ready to just call things even and get back to work on their books.

Chad had texted her several times overnight, each text sounding increasingly desperate. Something about needing her to bring a ladder to his apartment. She just laughed and deleted them. He could explain what they meant at their next writing session. She was confident he wouldn’t miss any more.

Inside her classroom, things were going surprisingly well, too.

She’d only had to remove gum from one girl’s hair, which meant it was a good day.

As the late morning sun shone through the window, gleaming off swings and slides and other playground equipment outside, she sat down at her desk and prepared for the next lesson.

“Miss Fields,” little Cindy called from the back of the classroom. “There’s a man outside in a pink hat.”

Daisy looked over at the window, and her jaw nearly dropped. Chad stood outside it, wearing her pink bra on his head like a cap, and her cardigan draped over his shoulder like a cape.

Daisy rushed over to the window. “Give me those!” she hollered through the glass, but Chad pretended not to hear and stuck out his tongue at her.

Daisy fumed.

“What’s the man doing?” Cindy asked.

“That’s not a man,” Daisy growled. “It’s a demon from hell.”

‘Eww,’ came a chorus from the girls, while the boys broke out in cheers of ‘Cool!’

Daisy raced out of the classroom while the kids rushed over to the window.

A few seconds later, they saw their normally composed teacher race around the corner of the building and chase the demon from hell across the playground.

Ms. Fields stopped for a moment to kick off her shoes and throw them at the demon, then took off barefoot after him.

The kids watched as they dodged in and out of swings and around the merry-go-round and over the monkey bars.

Finally, the demon spun and raced toward their school building.

Cindy and several girls screamed and backed away from the window as the demon barreled their way, then slowed just before it reached the window.

The demon took off his pink hat and cape and threw them on the roof, then tore off toward the parking lot.

Ms. Fields stopped and stared in fury at the roof for a second, then yelled something that sounded like ‘pass pole’ at the demon.

By the time Daisy arrived at Chad’s apartment that afternoon, she was still fuming over having her bra and cardigan thrown on the school’s roof.

The janitor had given her a knowing look as he climbed a ladder to retrieve them, and her first graders wouldn’t stop giggling every time they passed the playground.

She had already confirmed with Chad’s school that he was coaching baseball that afternoon, so she headed over to his place, stopping by a store on the way to pick up a few things.

Hopefully, Rhino would be at the apartment, since she needed his cooperation for this next round of paybacks.

She picked up a bag of cookies on the way to sweeten the deal for him.

Rhino answered on the second knock, sporting a bruised elbow from being on the roof all night. His eyes went to the bag of cookies in Daisy’s hand.

“If those are for Chad,” he growled, “I’m taking them and eating them myself.”

“Actually, they’re for you,” she said, handing him the bag. “They’re sort of my ‘sorry you got stuck on the roof with your idiot roommate’ apology.”

Rhino eyed the bag. “What kind?”

“Double chocolate chunk with sea salt.”

He grinned. “Apology accepted.” He grabbed the cookies and stepped aside. “Come on in. So, what’s in the other bag?”

“My secret weapon,” Daisy said, holding up a large department store bag. “How does Chad feel about pink?”

“He hates it. Why?”

“How would you like to help me get revenge? You, for getting stuck on the roof because he can’t keep his dating schedule straight. And me, for having my bra and cardigan thrown on the school roof.”

Rhino snickered. “He did that?”

“Yup. In front of my first-grade class. They’re still asking me why I took the demon’s pink hat and cape.”

“Ouch. So what’d you have in mind?”

“See these...” Daisy said, pulling out a brand new set of unwashed, bright red towels from her bag. “Guaranteed to turn everything we wash with them pink.”

Rhino burst into laughter. “Washing machine’s down the hall. I’ll help you round up his clothes.”

Daisy’s face broke into a broad grin. “Rhino. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Sure hope so. ‘Cause you’re scary when you’re pissed.”

That evening, the back room of the Book Nook Cafe fell silent as Chad walked into the weekly writers’ group meeting wearing pink jeans and a matching pink t-shirt.

“Don’t say it,” he warned the room as he dropped into his chair, trying to maintain a shred of dignity.

Of course, Mags couldn’t resist. “Well, well,” she drawled, her reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “It appears that someone raided Barbie’s closet this evening.”

“Funny,” Chad grumbled.

Bernie chuckled as he clasped his teacup. “I haven’t seen that much pink since my granddaughter’s ballet recital.”

“You guys are a riot.”

Ruth pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s a good color on you, Chad. Really brings out your eyes.”

Daisy, who had been snickering quietly while trying to maintain a straight face, burst into laughter. “You look like a Valentine’s Day explosion.”

The rest of the room erupted in laughter.

“That’s because someone put red towels in my wash,” Chad grumbled, shooting Daisy a glare.

“Must’ve been someone very organized and vengeful and exceptionally cute,” Daisy said with a grin.

“And psychotic.”

“Oh, you mean like someone who runs across a school playground with a bra on his head?”

“That was funny.”

“So are the clothes, Pretty in Pink.”

Chad groaned as chuckles spread through the group.

“Alright, everyone,” Mags called the meeting to order, though she was clearly fighting a smile. “Let’s get started with our critiques. Helen, why don’t you begin with Daisy’s pages?”

Helen adjusted her reading glasses. “Well, dear, the writing is lovely as always, but I’m concerned about Rick.”

Daisy sat up. “What about him?”

“Besides he sucks?” said Chad.

“Shut up, Pink Panther,” Daisy shot back. “What’s wrong with Rick, Helen?”

“He’s just so... oh, what’s the word I’m looking for?” said Helen.

“Flat,” Bernie offered.

“Yes, there’s that,” said Helen.

“Boring,” said Phil.

“That, too,” Helen nodded in agreement.

“Safe,” Ruth added.

“Exactly like every other male lead you’ve written,” Liv finished. “He’s like a cardboard cutout of a man. A very responsible cardboard cutout, but still.”

“He’s stable,” Daisy said. “He’s secure. He’s what every girl dreams of.”

“He put me to sleep by page three,” Chad cut in.

“Says the man in pink jeans.”

“Rick’s supposed to be a professional athlete,” Mags pointed out gently. “But he has all the personality of a tax return.”

“A very organized tax return,” Bernie added. “But nonetheless, he is difficult to root for.”

“Should’ve had the dinosaur eat him,” said Chad.

“Now there’s an idea,” said Bernie.

“You’re agreeing with Chad?” said Daisy.

“It needn’t be a dinosaur, but the story does need something to liven it up.”

“Told ya,” said Chad.

“At least my character doesn’t leave a trail of slime everywhere he goes,” said Daisy.

“And on that note,” Mags turned to Chad’s pages, “let’s discuss your unique take on romantic comedy.”

The room collectively grimaced.

“What?” said Chad. “They kiss.”

“She kisses a swamp monster,” Ruth said.

“Slime monster,” Chad corrected. “Totally different species. Swamp monsters are more... swampy.”

“He’s got a point,” Phil said. “The viscosity is completely different.”

“Not helping, Phil,” Mags sighed.

“Darling,” Mags rubbed her temples, “you can’t just take your horror novel and add a kiss scene.”

“Why not? It’s romantic. Sort of. In a slimy way.”

“The girl runs screaming immediately after,” Phil pointed out.

“Because she’s overwhelmed by passion!”

“Because he’s dissolving her face,” Daisy said.

“It’s a love dissolution!”

“That’s not a thing,” Bernie chuckled.

Helen leaned forward. “Does your female character really need to be running around in a bikini in every scene? Maybe you could vary it up a bit.”

“Add a cheerleader tryout scene?” Chad said.

“Or maybe not,” Helen added. “Forget I said anything.”

“Chad,” Mags cut in, “you need to start over. From page one. This isn’t a horror novel with romantic elements. It’s supposed to be a romantic comedy. That means no slime monsters, no swamp monsters, no monsters of any kind.”

“What about a very misunderstood zombie?” Chad tried.

“No.”

Chad slumped in his chair, leaving a slight pink tint on the fabric.

“Ready to concede defeat, Pinky?” Daisy said.

“Not a chance.”

“And you,” Mags said, turning back to Daisy, “need to give Rick a personality. Some joy. Some spark. Something that makes us believe he’s actually alive and not just a collection of sensible life choices in khaki pants.”

“He doesn’t wear khaki pants,” Daisy mumbled. “He wears slacks.”

“The contest deadline is getting closer,” Bernie reminded them. “You both need to step up your game.”

“Or step out of your comfort zones,” Helen added kindly.

“Way, way out,” Chad said, plucking at his pink shirt.

“Speaking of stepping out,” Liv leaned forward, “Chad, honey, where did you get those jeans? That shade is absolutely darling on you.”

Chad’s face turned a shade pinker than his clothes. “I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Daisy said sweetly. “That wouldn’t be very romantic of you.”

“You’re gonna make a great zombie cheerleader, Fields. Just wait.”

“And you’re gonna wear a diaper and tell my class how great I am.”

“How about we get on with the rest of the critiques,” Mags cut in. “Shall we?”

The meeting wrapped up an hour later, after everyone had a chance to have their pages critiqued. As Chad and Daisy packed their bags, Mags approached them.

“You two need to figure this out,” she said. “Chad, read some actual romance novels. And Daisy? Maybe let Rick live a little. Take some risks.”

“Like what?” Daisy said.

“Talk to your writing partner about it,” Mags said. “I paired you two up for a reason.”

“I thought God was punishing me for stealing cookies when I was young.”

Chad shot her a smirk. “Daisy Fields stole cookies?”

“They were Becky Campbell’s. We were in kindergarten.”

Mags shook her head. “Look, you two. This contest is a big opportunity for new authors. I really don’t want to see the two of you blow it, but that’s where you’re headed if you don’t get it together.”

“We’re trying,” Daisy said.

Mags looked at Chad’s pink clothes. “Maybe try it with less fashion statement, and more focus on writing. Can you do that?”

Chad and Daisy exchanged a look. After a moment, they both gave reluctant nods.

“Yeah,” Daisy said. “I think so.”

“Good,” said Mags. “I expect to see big changes in your writing next week.”

“Mags is right,” Daisy said, as she and Chad crossed the parking lot to their cars. The evening sun painted the sky in orange hues. “Neither of us has a shot at winning the contest at the rate we’re going.”

Chad nodded while picking at his pink shirt. “Gotta hand it to her. She really doesn’t pull any punches.”

“Nope.”

They reached their cars and stopped for a moment between them.

“What would you say to calling a cease-fire between us?” Daisy said.

“I thought we already tried that at my apartment.”

“And it worked, too. At least till Rhino came home.”

Chad nodded. She had a point. “You think it’s possible?”

“It’s only till after the contest. Then we can pick up where we left off.”

“So, it gives me time to plan my payback,” Chad said.

She grinned. “And me too.”

Chad chuckled. “Okay. Let’s try it. Truce?” He extended his hand.

“Truce,” she said, shaking his hand. “What are you doing now?”

“Heading home and putting cayenne pepper in Rhino’s jockstrap. Why?”

Daisy grinned. “Can that wait till later? I thought we could go back to my place and get Chloe’s thoughts on our stories. She can be blunt, but I think it’ll be helpful.”

“Let’s do it.”