The Flash Drive

The school library was, as usual, a place where Elara went to disappear. The air always smelled faintly of printer ink, old paper, and dust that never seemed to settle, even with the windows cracked open. The faint hum of overhead fluorescent lights blended with the soft murmur of students studying or chatting, but it was still quiet enough for Elara to slip into her world of words and silence.

She sat at the far corner, her favorite spot, where no one bothered her. Her laptop was open in front of her, the screen illuminating her face with the glow of Dandelion Summer in progress. It had been a good day of writing—Lark’s journey through the forest of glass trees was finally taking shape. She felt like she could almost see it. The colors. The magic. The choice she was about to make.

She clicked away at the keys, pushing words into place, tightening the plot. She could already feel the words beginning to grow beyond the confines of her mind, expanding into something bigger. Something real. But it wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough.

Her friend Mika, leaning against the bookshelf nearby, was tapping away on his phone, scrolling through his latest list of college options. He’d been doing this all year—figuring out where he’d go, which scholarships he could apply for, and the programs that would set him on a path that everyone else could understand.

Mika had always been the pragmatic one. The one who did things by the book, the one who followed the rules. He never hesitated, and he never second-guessed. It was one of the things Elara admired about him.

But it also made her feel like she was falling short, like she was always chasing something she couldn’t quite reach.

“You’re zoning out again,” Mika said, looking up from his phone. His voice was teasing, but it held a warmth that made Elara want to laugh.

“I’m not,” she replied, trying to cover the fact that her thoughts had wandered to a different place entirely.

Mika raised an eyebrow. “Are you still thinking about the story? You’ve been on Chapter 14 for, what—three weeks?”

She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m almost done. I just need to get this part right.”

He pushed away from the shelf and walked over to her, his long strides bringing him easily to her side. “You’ve been saying that for weeks. You’re always so close, but you never finish.”

“I don’t know how to finish it.” She stared at the screen, the blinking cursor now almost mocking her.

Mika sat down beside her, his eyes scanning the page. “You know, you could actually send it somewhere.”

Elara’s head snapped up. “What?”

“There’s this contest,” he said. “The Orion Fellowship. It’s national. Writers from all over submit their work. If you’re a finalist, you get published. Editors actually read the entries.”

Elara blinked at him. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, his face serious now, the usual playfulness gone. “It’s not just for people who are already published. It’s for writers. Real writers. People like you.”

She shook her head, incredulous. “I’m not ready. My story’s not finished, and I’m not... I’m not good enough.”

“Of course you are.” Mika’s voice softened, a rare seriousness filling his tone. “You’ve got talent. I’ve seen it.”

Elara felt her heart do a strange, quick flutter. Talent. It was a word she heard often enough, but never in reference to herself. Her writing had always been something she kept to herself. She wasn’t sure if she was good enough to be judged by anyone but her own eyes.

Mika pulled a small flash drive from his backpack and slid it across the table toward her. “Deadline’s next week. I’ll bug you every day until you enter.”

She stared at it. The flash drive gleamed in the sunlight, almost like a small, metallic promise.

“Please,” he urged, leaning closer. “What’s the worst that could happen? You’re already writing the story. Just send it.”

The idea was terrifying. And thrilling. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was on the edge of something. She just had to take a step. A leap.

Elara reached out and touched the flash drive. She felt a strange energy pulsing in her fingertips, the weight of a decision hanging in the air.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, but inside, she already knew.

That night, she sat at her desk again, the attic room quiet except for the occasional creak of the house settling. Her typewriter sat in front of her, silent, waiting. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured Lark, standing at the boundary of the invisible town. It was all she had—her words, her dreams. She couldn’t just keep writing in secret.

She opened her laptop and pulled up the Orion Fellowship page. The glowing cursor on the submission form felt like a challenge. Are you brave enough to send this out there?

It took a few more hours to gather the courage to finish editing Chapter 14—just one more pass through, tightening the prose, smoothing the transitions. She reviewed everything one last time, giving the words a quick read-through to make sure they felt like they were ready for the world.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard again, and the cursor blinked. She could almost hear Mika’s words in her head. You’re already writing the story. Just send it.

It was 11:37 p.m. when she finally hit “Submit.” The screen flickered briefly before a confirmation message appeared.

Your entry has been submitted.

Elara sat back in her chair, her breath shallow, her heart racing. It was done. She had taken the first step. But now what?

The silence in the room seemed louder than before, the walls pressing in, but she didn’t feel fear. Not exactly. What she felt was a strange peace, like a door had opened just a crack.

For the first time, she had dared to send her words out into the world. She was no longer just a dreamer. She was a writer.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***