An first-time attempt to write a romance novel!
Prologue
16 year-old Maple didn’t know exactly how she was made for nature. After all, everyone said she was made for nature. The way she went out every morning, the wind blowing her chestnut brown hair, to water the tulips and daffodils, with not another thing in mind but to sit on her rock and bury her head in the latest book about nature she had checked out from the town’s library. The way she would carefully attend to the dying flowers, and how she dried all the dead flowers and hung them up around her little hut. Because you see, Maple, though she didn’t know it, was destined for nature. She couldn’t get away from it! Everyone in the tiny town of Oak thought she was crazy. She wasn’t allowed in the schoolroom, nor any inn or cafe. So she went to the only thing that did have sympathy for her: the plants. The trees singing, the flowers dancing in the winds that blew the salty ocean near to her nose.
Chapter One
Maple yawned. She sat up in her little hut of straw and sticks. It made quite the house, with her bed of leaves (a bundle of straw wrapped around in cloth for a pillow worked well enough), a little wooden table with three wobbly legs that seated one stump of a chair. Her clothes were folded into a neat pile in a woven basket in the corner, and adorned with a grass-tie rug sat on the earthy dirt floor that Maple loved. She didn’t really need a house, but when an awfully strong hurricane blasted in, she was forced to make a shelter. Houses weren’t that bad. She loved the way the wind blew gently through the two windows and the doorless entryway.
Maple stretched wide, before rolling out of bed and grabbing the dress on the top of the pile of clothes. It was white, with a lace waist woven from bleached grass, and dried flowers were stitched by thin strands of sturdy wheat onto the edges of white cotton. (Maple made her own clothes.) She left the woolen slipper-shoes she had knitted for herself last winter standing up against the straw wall, before grabbing a wooden bucket from the table and rushing outside.
She skipped lightly to the well not far from her hut, whistling as she went. Her fingers brushed the nearby roses, and her feet landed on the soft soil. She lowered the bucket into the well, before pulling it back up with the rope attached to the wooden bar hooked to the miny roof. The bucket foamed with fresh water, and it slashed her toes as she walked slowly along a first path that led past the well. She watered the long line of glowing flowers. Daffodils, jasmine, poppies, roses, tulips, lavender, marigold, zinnia, daisies! She watered every bush, skipping from the garden to the well. The sun rose up against the mountains, and the birds sang songs of welcome to each other.
Maple watered the trees, dumping water neatly around their trunks. It was a wonderful spring day. White clouds spread across the sky, waving a hello. Maple saw a white rabbit, and spotted a herd of deer munching on grass. She took a basket from her hut and gathered dandelions for her breakfast. She searched for a honey tree as she walked to a nearby stream for her meal, thinking how nice it would be to have honey and dandelions for breakfast on this fine spring day. As she walked, she sang quietly to herself.
She sat down on a cool silver rock that hung lazily over the river. It trickled merrily down the smooth rocks, and occasionally a fish jumped out, golden as an apple in autumn. Maple had just finished off the last of her dandelions, and was packing up her basket, when a stick snapped below her. A young man, surely not older than her, was staring up at her in a trance. Maple gasped. No one could ever see her. Not in the forest. She stood up and ran into the woods. “Wait!” the boy cried, but Maple didn’t stop. How could she be so foolish? Because, you see, Maple was no ordinary girl. She was a fairy. Not always, mind you. But when her mind reached the forest… She couldn’t help but embrace it, and her heart’s way of doing that was to turn into the most beautiful human alive. She wasn’t really a fairy. She didn’t have magical fairy powers. Because fairies weren’t real. Maple knew that. But nature’s effect on her was magical. Straight brown hair that reached your shoulders? Stubborn brown eyes? That all changed when Maple reached the forest. Her hair trickled down her back in auburn waves, her ears pointed to the clouds, her eyes turned a wise hazel-y green, her skin white. Her lips turned a deep red, and her figure thinned. What that man just saw was a horrible mistake. If he told everyone in Oak Village about the young woman he had just seen, Maple would have to run for her life. She just hoped he would keep his mouth shut.
Chapter Two
Bum, ba-bum bum. Maple leaped out of bed. She had paced her room for hours before going to sleep late at night. It was late morning now, and she was still a fairy. She couldn’t stop thinking about the forest, and so the beauty hadn’t been taken away. She had read plenty of books saying that after a certain age, you keep your beauty forever. She hoped today wasn’t that day.
Now, time to answer that door. She stumbled out of bed, her heart in her throat. If this was who she thought it would be…
“You.”
The boy stared at Maple. His cheeks were warm. Maple’s face felt a bit hot too. She had welcomed him in, once she saw who it was. Not like she had much of a choice. They were sitting at her table, (Maple sitting on the floor) and Maple clutched a hot mug of tea in her cold hands. They hadn’t said a word since she had opened the door. The boy was the first to break the suffocating silence. “You,” he repeated. His blue eyes met Maple’s hazel ones. He had a mop of brown hair, freckles and was naturally pretty cute. No. Why was Maple thinking like this? “Me,” she said, trying to forget her mental conversation.
“Who are you?”
“No one of importance. You should never have seen me in the forest.”
“But I did.”
“Then forget it.”
“I can’t.” He stared at Maple. “You’re just so…” Maple gave him a warning look. We are not going there. He turned pink with embarrassment.
“Family?” she asked. If he didn’t have any family, she would be better off.
He shook his head.
“Name, then?”
“Lucas,” he replied. “Yours?”
“Maple,”
“It suits you,” he said, softly. Maple glared at him.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“Then forget it.” Maple had had enough of his flirtiness. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon enough,” she huffed, shoving him out the door. She needed air.
She ran outside and took a walk along the gardens she had watered just yesterday, with not a worry in her mind. As soon as she stepped into the garden, though, her clothes turned a brilliant gold, and in an instant she was wearing a long silky dress, pearly white, that had a short train in the back.
“Ugh. You’ve already gotten me in enough trouble,” she huffed, trying to tear off the dress, but it was tight around her neck, and had no buttons to loosen. Her hair had been winded with white flowered vines, and a crown of the same flowers rode on her head. Great.
Now he’ll think I’m even more beautiful. She thought with a groan. The dress never got dirty, no matter how hard Maple tried. She eventually wandered over to a grove of violets, and she sat down in them, enveloped by their scent. She had just relaxed when footsteps sounded close to her. Light footsteps, not a heavy full grown man’s footsteps. She repressed a groan as Lucas stepped out of the bushes.
“These bushes are awful. I don’t how you–” he stopped, and his eyes grew wide. “Whoa…” he gasped. Maple frowned. “Thanks a lot,” she said sarcastically. Lucas’s eyes widened, if possible, even more. “I-I meant that as a compliment,” he stammered, his face flaming. Maple raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you flirt with every girl in town, I bet,” she said, turning Lucas’s face into a twist between horrified and embarrassed.
“N-no! I-I just ran into you. The people in town hate me,” he explained, trying desperately to turn the conversation away from his feelings. Maple wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily, though. “ ‘A dishonest man is not trusted, even when he speaks the truth.’ ” Maple recited, from one of her books. Lucas looked away. “I know! And I’m not being dishonest. I just…”
Maple stood up, brushing off invisible flower petals. “Good-bye.” she said, walking away, her dumb dress catching on violets. Lucas looked back at her. She couldn’t just walk away. He had never felt this way before, about another girl! And now, that girl hated him. He reached into the satchel he always carried around his shoulder and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil.
Maple,
I’m really sorry. I won’t make the same mistake again! Just give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.
Yours,
Love,
Your friend,
Lucas
Lucas crossed out all the failed attempts of a good closing. She would just hate him even more. He dropped the letter on her doorstep on his way home, hoping she would write back.
Chapter Three
Maple woke up to find a letter on her doorstep. “Ugh,” she groaned, looking at the sender’s name. Lucas. She read the letter impatiently, wondering if she should write back. At least he was trying, right?
Dear Lucas,
Your handwriting really needs to improve. You get one chance. If you break my heart again, I’ll go find another man who doesn’t make the mistakes you did. Don’t make it up to me. Use your last chance wisly. Write back.
Maple
Lucas smiled. Even her handwriting was beautiful.
Maple,
Thank you so much! I won’t fail you.
Lucas
Maple’s response was one word:
Hopefully.
Chapter Four
Lucas hurried to Maple’s house the very next day. She had invited him to breakfast, and he was genuinely worried she had cooked a dandelion casserole, and he would have to gulp it down, to not be impolite. He didn’t even know if they were “together” or not. Maple was a real mystery. When she opened the door, Lucas was relieved to see her smiling.
Maple set a steaming pot on the wooden table. Lucas saw that she had added another stump chair next to hers. Maybe she did want it to work out. “Feel free to walk around,” Maple invited, realizing that Lucas had never really been in her house before. Lucas wandered over to her neat bed, all the leaves folded neatly in place. A worn leather journal sat open on her bed, like she had just been writing in it. Lucas knew he shouldn’t, but curiosity got the better of him when he spotted his name.
Dear Diary,
Today a boy named Lucas spotted me on my rock! I can’t believe it. He is very cute. I don’t want to show him, though. I think I should test him. Many boys try to break hearts, from the books I’ve read.
Maple Brook
Dear Diary,
Lucas really is a good friend! But he isn’t that honest. Should I dump him? But… then he sent me a really nice letter. I think he deserves another chance. But he better use it well.
Maple Brook
Lucas nearly gasped. She liked him too? “Dinner!” Maple called, before Lucas could finish that thought. He shut the diary, before hurrying to the table. Maple poured Lucas a ladle of whatever soup-y stuff was in the pot. The steam hid Maple’s face when she served herself, before nodding at him to eat.
“Your last name is Brook?” Lucas asked, without thinking. Maple’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. How did you know?” Lucas had a feeling Maple knew exactly how he found out, and he opened his mouth to lie, but then remembered what Maple had written in her journal:
But… then he sent me a really nice letter. I think he deserves another chance. But he better use it well.
He sighed. “I read some bits of your journal…” he looked down, accidentally bonking his head on the table. “OUCH!” he cried, and as his hand flew up to his head, his elbow hit his soup bowl, knocking it onto himself. “OUCH!!” he cried, even louder. Maple screamed, as the force of his other elbow hit the soup pot, causing it to splash boiling hot soup onto himself, followed shortly by the heavy pot itself, which fell right on his head. Everything went black.
Chapter Five
“Are-are y-you alright?” a shaking voice popped into Lucas’s mind. His eyes popped open. Maple crushed him with her hug, causing Lucas to realize all the places that ached. His head and arms were wrapped in bandages, and a sponge was held in Maple’s hand. Maple’s eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was disheveled. Lucas looked down, even though his head hurt like crazy. He was on her bed. He looked up at her. Then it came crashing down on him. Cold hard reality: She loved him. Maple loved him! He sat up slowly, and Maple immediately grabbed a spare pillow from beneath the bed, sitting him up. He looked into her eyes, even more beautiful than he realized. He breathed, “Yes. I am alright.” And then, at that moment, he kissed her. Their lips met, and Maple was surprised. How did he even know that she loved him? Then she remembered. Her journal! He must have read it! She finally pulled away. “Why?” she asked quietly. Gently, Lucas pulled out a letter he had hidden in his pocket:
Dear Maple,
I love you. I hope you know that. Every bit of my heart is yours. I don’t know if you love me back, but I hope you do. I don’t just love you for your beauty. You and I were meant to be. Even though you were a bit of a jerk before.
Love,
Lucas
Maple took a much longer letter from behind her dress and handed it to Lucas.
Dear Lucas,
I love you. I hope you know that. Even though you were trying a bit too hard, I could still tell that you were trying so hard to be the best person so that I would love you. Don’t be. I love you, no matter what. I’m not going to marry a clown trying to entertain me. I ‘m marrying you.
Forever in my heart
If were your heart will be
No else can come in
Because no one has the key