Until I Wrote Him
“Page two seventy-three, right after the betrayal scene! I highlighted it!”
“Oh my God, can you sign my Kindle?” another voice piped in.
The pink haired girl who had been trying to maintain composure, gave up entirely. “Can I just say…your last book? Masterpiece. My boyfriend dumped me the same week I read it, and I just cried and ate ice cream for three days, and it felt like you were writing about me.”
“That’s… wonderful?” I squeaked.
Wonderful. Really, India? That’s the word you came up with?