I couldn't help but feel that my third draft was a downgrade from the second. The scenes became even choppier than what I started off with, and I felt as if I left out something important. Rolling around my room thinking of solutions didn’t bring me anywhere, so I decided to consult Itra for help during our next study session.

Sadly, I still needed to sit through lunch with Harry before I could get in touch with Itra. Isolated as ever, Harry rambled on about worthless information as we ate.

“So you’re here,” said a menacing shadow, “Harry.”

“Gentrei?” Harry turned to her as she stood by our table, “What are you doing here? Are your friends gone again?”

“No,” she answered, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Huh?” Harry’s head turned in puzzlement.

Even I didn’t get why she would want to thank him. Only when I thought back to our last interaction at school, I remembered my lie. Not wanting to bear the wrath of Gentrei, I hid behind Harry’s name. I forgot to tell him about what happened.

“For getting Illate to talk to me,” Gentrei elaborated, “he and his friend ended up being a help to me.”

“O-oh?” gears were still turning over Harry’s head as he let out his response, “Right…?”

“Yes, n-now since that’s out of the way…” Gentrei quickly retreated from our table, “b-bye.”

Silence settled between Harry and me, as we focused on our food. My arms were shaky as I anticipated Harry’s response to the affair. While confused, he still acted oddly composed.

After a sip of his cartoned milk, he turned to me with his newly mustached face saying, “So, after neglecting to help her when she came to us out of desperation, you decided to hide behind my name offering support with your friend, and the both of you dedicated to helping her over the weekend, huh?”

“Um,” I stared. Did he figure that all on his own?

“I’m a genius aren’t I?” Harry posed, “Wait, what’s going on with your face? I’m right?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, putting my head down.

“I don’t get what you’re apologizing for, it’s fine,” Harry responded, “I’m actually pretty interested now that you told me.”

“You are?” I asked, leaving my bent position.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“That’s right,” Harry answered, “Now we have a better understanding of our friend.”

“Our…friend,” I nodded slowly, “right.” So that was how he saw her.

“I’m glad you helped her,” Harry added, “It shows that you can care too, at times.”

“Y-yeah,” I responded, remembering how I ran away from her.

“And she’s getting good work on her story too!” Harry piled on, “Which reminds me, how are you doing with it?”

“Uh, well, I’m actually not so sure,” I mumbled, “I have two versions of the same thing, but I don’t know why the last one got worse…”

“Really? Well, if you asked me, I’d say…” Harry paused for a second, “Just take the best parts of both of them and make it into a super version. Like a fusion!”

“A fusion?” I imagined the two documents fusing into a glowing script, “Well, I guess, but I don’t know where I would start.”

“The beginning, obviously,” Harry answered.

A bell signaled the end of lunch, so I began leaving. Before I left, Harry gave a thumbs up and wished me luck on my story. The contest’s deadline steadily creeped closer, but Itra and I had time to fix the story up.

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“Well, I can tell you kept ‘cutting out what you don’t need’ in mind,” Itra commented as she returned my laptop.

I met her in the library again for our study session. Even though we were approaching the final step, I still couldn’t stop feeling as if my efforts were still mediocre. My body buzzed whenever I tried to think of a way to improve my story, like a struggling machine.

“All you really need to do is take these little bits and paste them into the other draft,” Itra told me, “I think these would make great changes to the story.”

“But the second part in both of them are completely different,” I pointed out, “the third part in the third draft would also be hard to put into it…”

“Then just make it a different scene,” Itra rationalized, “and the rest can be replaced with these new scenes.”

“Right…” I turned to the computer, “I wonder what we’re going to do after this…”

“Whatever you want,” Itra answered, “I’ll stick by you, okay?”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, turning to edit the document.

Meeting Itra was the best thing that ever happened to me at this school. I couldn’t wait to learn more with her.

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The final product Itra and I worked on finally came together.

“This is it, are you ready to turn it in?” Itra smiled at me, ready to finally turn in the fruit of our effort.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Itra walked right next to me all the way to the office. We stopped by the library to pick up the printed copy, where I carefully held the solid version of my story. It didn’t look so impressive when I looked at it then.

“It’s all up to the judges now,” I muttered, as I handed the papers to the office lady.

“No, Illate, it’s always been up to you,” Itra put her hand on my shoulder, “and I think you’ve got a good chance at scoring high.”

She turned my body, getting us face to face. Then, she spoke in the softest voice.

“Now you can rest.”