WIP Wednesday
I know that I am being incredibly late with the next part of The Fic*, but I decided since it is taking longer than I expected, I should at least take part in some writing stuff and talking about my process. So as proof of life for my Chasing Love series, here is the intro to Chasing Summer.
(This is super rough, but whatever):
Charlie Conway was probably the only teenager in America who was ready for summer to be over. It was five days since he’d returned home from Eden Hall, three days since Adam had left for hockey camp in Siberia and Charlie was already at a loss as to what he was going to do about anything.
As soon as Adam had left Charlie’s the morning after their almost “hook-up” Charlie had immediately pulled out the ’99 NHL All stars calendar that had been a stocking stuffer at Christmas and circled the date of Adam’s return, July 25.
Before he’d left, Adam promised to call every day but Charlie had talked him out of it. He should focus on hockey, Charlie told him and he’d reassured Adam that he was fine and would be waiting for his return in eight weeks. He’d been proud of himself at the time, thinking of how mature he was being about the whole thing, but now he wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the face. He hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be going from being with the guy 24-7 to having almost no contact at all. Not to mention that there were other worries. Whatever was between them still felt new and fragile, could they really survive eight weeks apart? Adam was up in Canada with a bunch of guys who were also elite athletes. What if he met someone? What if his dad found out and sent him away even further? What if he came back and had totally changed his mind about the whole thing?
Charlie groaned at the futility of it all. He didn’t know what to do, and he hadn’t even started on the “research” he’d promised Adam he’d do. He was flopped back on his childhood bed staring at the ceiling for what must have been a good half hour before rolling over and staring at the clock on his desk, watching the seconds and minutes pass by and praying they would somehow go faster.
