Crossword Trouble

{Excerpt from 17 & Pregnant}


My eyebrows scrunch together as I stare at the newspaper in front of me, placed squarely on the dining table. The expression on my face alters slightly now and again, but the same emotion is felt all throughout my being.

I’m disgusted.

How is it that people can even promote this… This…


Why is this even published? I have no clue. I mean, newspapers were once the Saturday sit-down and read while you’re eating waffles, eggs, and bacon and drinking coffee; a wonderful meal made by the wonderful wife.

Well, that was back in the fifties. The news probably wasn’t exactly uplifting…

It’s completely manipulating! The only thing I can truly comprehend here is the confusion and deception plastered all over this page! I should be enjoying my time right now, and instead I’m wracking my brain for a solution, something that I can do to fix this!

Who the hell wrote this thing?!

“Freaking crosswords!” I curse, pushing the newspaper aside in frustration.

My head falls into my hands as I let out a long, heaving sigh. A groan soon follows after that, my back and chest rising and falling with the actions. I shake my head, over and over, so tempted to grab the paper and burn it.

But, as my eyes look over at the recipe for frustration, I can’t help but take it in my hands and try again.

It’s no use!

It had been over fifteen minutes, yet I was only two words closer to solving the puzzle than before.  I really was at the point of burning the frickin’ thing, until a genius thought came into my head.

Ask Olivia!



{An excerpt from my original story “Love” on Wattpad}


“It was slow today,” Taro said with a laugh as he locked up the front doors of Stars diner.

“Yeah,” I smiled, wiping down some of the tables that he hadn’t touched.

I wasn’t surprised that we had less customers today than we usually did. It was the day before Canadian Thanksgiving. Everyone else that works here had gone somewhere out of Toronto to visit their families. Not that Taro and I didn’t have family. But, his didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving every year, and mine was in the U.S, so we wouldn’t be celebrating until next month.

We were the only ones that had shown up to work today.

And part of me was so happy about that. Even though we’re friends, I’ve liked him for while now. I feel like we have some sort of connection. He’s five years older than me, at 23, but what does that change?

“So…” He started, putting the dishes and utensils into the kitchen.

“So?” I teased.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Well, I bought some tofu, sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce and things for pie.”

“Oh, vegetarian,” He said, nodding.

I nodded in response, “I also have a small turkey. My roommate bought it for us to have a nice little feast, but she forgot she already had plans with her family in Waterloo. What about you?”

“I don’t have plans… No one’s joining you?” He asked.

“Nope,” I responded, popping the ‘p’. We were now behind the register, just chatting. It was dark out now. But, it being Toronto, the downtown streets were lit up by the streetlights.

Sighing, I looked out one of the windows and imagined. I imagined that maybe he would lean in and grab my hand with one of his, the other touching my cheek. And then he’d say, “can I kiss you?”

I must’ve sighed again, because I heard him chuckle softly beside me, “you okay, Em?”

“I’m good.”

“Do you mind if I join you tomorrow? For Thanksgiving?”

I looked at him, surprised. I didn’t expect him to ask, since I was usually the one to invite people over. A smile crept onto my face, “yeah, I’d love that.”


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