The Free Verse Society: Chapters 8–14

Derek guffaws and I cross my arms over my chest and lean away from him.

Derek’s looking at me now, and his face reads apprehension.

“We’ll be putting out a literary journal at the end of the spring semester, but for this fall, our goal is to host a big event. We’ll expound upon that later.”

He opens a giant tome and the hard cover smacks against the table.

I think Uncle Rowan knows this, so the anger in his eyes abates almost as quickly as it rose.

Resigned, I hold out my tray to the bearded man, who shakes his head as he reaches for it.

I can’t find the Free Verse members anywhere, and I decide they’re off on their own somewhere, leaving me to fend for myself.

It tastes like the flavor was completely boiled away and salt was added to compensate.

But still, dancing doesn’t sound enticing.

So she passes around her notebook, showing the meticulous swirl of purple calligraphy filling the entire page. “we’re not supposed to be strangers,” it’s called.

“You’re holding out, Jae. You wrote two poems. I wasn’t trying to look, by the way, I just saw. You wrote two poems in five minutes. Like some kind of savant. The first one, you finished super fast. And then you sat there like a tortured poet and wrote the other one. I think the one you read was the easy one.”

I drop it and step back, and he looks at me quizzically, like there’s a million thoughts he’s trying to parse.

I drop it and step back, and he looks at me quizzically, like there’s a million thoughts he’s trying to parse.

I’m glowering, sending waves of indignation his way.

Did he chastise me?