Page 24 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter sixteen

The Writing on the Wall

The back room of The Book Nook Cafe hummed with its usual Wednesday night energy, the scent of coffee mixing with Chad’s junk food and energy drinks.

The small space had become their sanctuary over the years, with its warm lighting, mismatched comfortable chairs, and walls lined with bookcases that had seen better days.

Helen noticed it first; their usual entertainment wasn’t bickering with each other. Chad and Daisy sat side by side, with neither of them shooting barbs at the other about sleep-inducing characters or juvenile stories. In fact, she would go so far as to say they seemed almost comfortable together.

“Oh, my,” Helen whispered to Ruth, her voice carrying the hushed tone of someone witnessing a rare natural phenomenon. “It would seem that hell has frozen over.”

Ruth nodded, adjusting her reading glasses as she observed the pair with the keen interest of a retired English teacher evaluating an unexpected plot twist. “They haven’t even argued over proper pen placement on the table. And I had my entire ‘Shakespeare on conflict’ lecture ready to go.”

Liv leaned over, her bohemian scarf trailing dangerously close to her coffee cup. “He’s using the coffee coaster she gave him last week.”

The coaster in question, a ceramic disk with ‘Books Before Bros’ printed on it, had been Daisy’s pointed gift after Chad left ring marks on her manuscript pages during their last session.

Helen nodded, noting how Chad absently rotated the coaster between sips of his coffee. “The one he kept using as a Frisbee. I noticed. And she hasn’t reorganized his manuscript pages once, even though they’re clearly out of order.”

The group exchanged meaningful glances, decades of collective wisdom recognizing the shift in dynamic. Phil raised his eyebrows at Bernie, who gave a subtle nod to Mags. Something had changed between their group’s most contentious members, and no one was about to let it pass without comment.

“I suppose we should get started,” Mags said, tapping down a stack of pages before turning to Chad with a sly smile that suggested she was about to enjoy herself immensely. “Chad. Why don’t we start with you.”

Chad shifted in his seat, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair, a nervous gesture the group had come to recognize whenever he was genuinely concerned about their feedback. “Do we have to?”

Mags nodded. “We do. And my first reaction is, your pages are... how should I put this…different.”

“Different bad?” Chad shifted again, his usual cocky demeanor notably absent. He glanced briefly at Daisy, who seemed unusually interested in arranging her notebook at a precise ninety-degree angle to the table’s edge.

“No. Quite the contrary. Different wonderful.” Mags’s voice held genuine surprise.

“I have to agree,” Liv said, flipping through the pages. “I noticed a distinct lack of monsters chasing girls in bikinis. In fact, your female protagonist is wearing appropriate clothing for almost every scene. Even the shower scene involves a bathrobe.”

“Your female lead is actually quite complex,” Helen noted, scanning the pages.

“I’m speaking here about the human one, but I would also like to note that I found the ghostly one equally interesting.

Your human lead, the ghost’s sister, seems to be very organized, but with this underlying sense of adventure she’s afraid to embrace.

And the way she plans everything down to the minute, but secretly wishes she could be more spontaneous. ..”

The group watched as Daisy’s cheeks took on a subtle pink tinge, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her pen cap.

“You guys wanted character development,” Chad said, his tone aiming for casual but landing closer to defensive. “I just did what you all told me to do.”

“I think you’ve done a wonderful job with her,” Ruth said, her gentle smile belying the mischief in her eyes. “She feels quite real now. Almost like someone we might know.”

“Mmhmm.” Mag’s eyes twinkled with knowing delight. “And does this well-developed character also color-code her grocery list?”

“Only the vegetables,” Chad said before catching himself. His eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake. “Wait.”

“And what about this scene,” Phil said as he pointed to a page, “where she organizes the hero’s closet while lecturing him about proper sock storage? It’s a funny scene, but do people actually do that?”

“Some do,” Chad muttered, carefully avoiding Daisy’s eyes, which had widened to an almost comical degree.

“I noticed this obsession she has with the color purple,” Ruth added innocently, though nothing about her sly expression suggested actual innocence. “It’s quite endearing. Would you care to elaborate?”

Chad shook his head. “Nope. No elaboration. It’s just one of her quirks, you know.”

“That your male lead finds charming,” Bernie noted, “but you mention here that he would never tell her in a million years.”

“I forgot about that part,” Chad said, looking down at his manuscript with dawning horror, as if seeing his own words for the first time.

“I found the ghost’s sister’s name quite charming, myself,” said Phil. “Lilly. It has a nice way of just rolling off the tongue. Lilly.”

Liv nodded. “It’s definitely a unique name and yet feels somehow… familiar.”

“I noticed that myself,” said Helen, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Using a flower for her name was a rather curious choice. Where else might we find someone named after a flower?”

All eyes turned to Daisy, who had taken a sudden interest in reorganizing her pens.

“Oh, come on,” Chad said. “It’s just a name. You guys are reading way too much into this.”

“Of course, dear.” Helen patted his hand with grandmotherly affection that did nothing to disguise her amusement. “Now, Daisy, let’s look at your pages.”

The group turned their attention to Daisy, who appeared to be contemplating whether she could fit under the table without anyone noticing.

“Actually,” Daisy said, “could someone else go next?”

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Mags said, tapping down the stack of Daisy’s pages. “Now, what were everyone’s thoughts on how Rick seems to have developed as a character?”

“He certainly has,” said Ruth, adjusting her glasses. “I quite like this new Rick.”

“He’s still a baseball player,” Daisy said quickly.

“Yes, but now he also coaches little league,” Bernie said.

“And makes inappropriate jokes during serious moments?” Helen added.

“And has, let me quote,” Ruth adjusted her glasses again, finding a specific passage, “‘a disarming smile that makes everything feel less overwhelming’?”

“That’s just... literary flourish,” Daisy said, her normally confident voice reduced to something closer to a squeak.

“Of course it is, dear,” Mags said with a knowing smile.

“And what about this scene,” Liv pointed to a page, “where Rick helps your female lead learn about baseball while teasing her about her organizing habits?”

“I needed sports scenes,” Daisy protested.

“With lingering descriptions of his shoulders and arms?” Philip noted.

Daisy sank ever so slightly in her chair, hoping it would somehow swallow her. “That’s for... accuracy.”

“Oh, honey.” Mags looked between Daisy and Chad, her expression a mixture of amusement and genuine affection. “You two really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” Chad and Daisy asked simultaneously, then looked at each other in alarm at their synchronized response.

“Your characters,” Helen said gently, her voice carrying the wisdom of someone who had witnessed the dance of denial many times before. “They’ve changed.”

“Evolved,” Ruth suggested.

“Into each other,” Phil concluded.

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the unspoken realizations that neither Chad nor Daisy seemed prepared to acknowledge. Chad suddenly found the coffee stain on the table fascinating, while Daisy became extremely interested in reorganizing her pens for the tenth time.

“The good news,” Liv broke in mercifully, “is that both manuscripts are significantly stronger. The characters feel real and relatable.”

“Almost like we know them,” Bernie murmured, stroking his silver beard thoughtfully.

“I’m actually looking forward to seeing where these stories go,” said Helen, her encouragement genuine despite the teasing.

“Unfortunately, I do have some bad news,” Mags said, straightening in her chair. “And that is, you’ve only three weeks until the contest deadline. What I see on these pages is extremely promising, but can you keep up this... inspiration... to see it through?”

Chad’s entire face was red now, the flush having spread from his ears to encompass his features completely.

Daisy had reorganized her pens yet again, each arrangement more elaborate than the last, a sure sign of her escalating discomfort.

They exchanged a look, a brief moment of silent communication, then both nodded as if they’d reached some unspoken agreement.

“Yeah,” Chad said, and Daisy nodded in agreement, their usual antagonism replaced by this new, unexpected unity that seemed to both confuse and please them.

“Good,” Mags said, again with her knowing grin that suggested she had seen this particular story play out many times in her long career. “Though we should discuss some technical aspects of your stories. Helen, would you like to begin?”

Helen nodded, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she addressed her comments to Chad. “Chad, comparing your heroine’s organizational skills to a ‘sexy librarian on a mission’ might be a bit... oh...”

“On the nose?” Bernie suggested, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy eyebrows.

“Revealing?” Ruth offered, adjusting her glasses again as if to see Chad’s embarrassment more clearly.

“Thirsty,” Phil concluded with characteristic bluntness.