Post by Nickysaurus on Feb 24, 2010 18:56:45 GMT -5
Hey, guys! This is something I've wanted to work on for a while, and it's only the first draft, so be nice. I'd LOVE some critique if you've got the time, pretty pretty please! This is going to be a book, I guess. Or at least long enough to be one.
SUMMARY
Hunter
Wren was having boy trouble. I wasn’t surprised because Wren was always having boy trouble, but this time she expected full audience participation. Dealing with guys wasn’t at all in my area of expertise, but judging by the way she let her sentences hang and shot me furtive glances while she manned the grocery store’s cash register, I was going to have to come up with something.
“He’s in this store every Sunday afternoon, almost without fail. I catch him looking at me, like, nine hundred times. Then he comes up to the counter with milk or something and doesn’t say a word. He just leaves.” Her fake nails clacked against the granite countertop and I winced, looking down at my own hands. Clasped around my lucky basketball, they looked so…rough. Girls like Wren had hands designed for such femininity as faux nails, but that kind of thing would look ridiculous on me. I bit mine.
“Maybe he just knows you’re too good for him.” I finally mumbled. She clicked her tongue against the inside of her cheek the way she always did when she was unsatisfied. Still, she plastered on her pearly phony grin and directed an elderly customer to the deli counter.
“That old geezer comes in here every week and asks me the same thing…” Wren muttered, wiping her hands absently on her uniform apron. Forest green and almost plastic looking, it would look awkward on anyone but Wren. Somehow, like everything else in her life, she just rocked it.
“Maybe he likes you.” I offered a clumsy smile.
“At least he has the guts to talk to me.”
“You’re way too hung up on this,” I snorted some unladylike laughter, “it’s just a guy.”
“You’re obviously missing the appeal of dating.” Wren slumped dramatically over the counter, exhaling heavily and burying her face in the crook of her arm. I was usually entertained by Wren’s bouts of unholy desperation – at least when it wasn’t serious. I shook my head pointedly, though I was pretty sure she wasn’t looking.
“I honestly don’t think I’m missing anything.” I informed her, balancing my lucky ball on my knees. My fingertips gripped the taut orange rubber. A flash of black caught my peripheral vision and I turned to get a look. It was a huge hoodie, much too big for the kid wearing it. I thingyed my eyebrows, watching him quietly. Wren’s all-too-audible groan called my attention and I returned my gaze to her. “Only two hours until closing,” I cajoled. Maybe it would quiet her.
“This bites.” She grumbled.
I didn’t answer. I was watching the kid. His hands were pale and a little pudgy, and he had bruised knuckles. I couldn’t exactly see his face, only the tufts of dark brown curls poking out from underneath the thick hood. I swear I saw him grab something. Silently I brushed the side of Wren’s arm with the tips of my fingers and she raised her heavy head. Eyes narrowed, she thinned her lips.
“Hey, kid - ”
Like a deer startled by a gunshot, he bolted in the next instant. He nearly fell after an ungainly stumble, but managed to jerk open the door and take off. I dropped my basketball and skirted the counter, catching the door before it closed. I shouldn’t have even bothered. What was I supposed to accomplish, tailing a grocery store shoplifter?
“Hunter!”
I ignored Wren’s confused shout. I was still in Reeboks and my basketball jersey. I could catch him. I half-hoped that he wouldn’t notice I was chasing him so I could get some ground covered, but I wasn’t so lucky. Quickly he peered over his shoulder, his sweatshirt hood sliding down the back of his head. I think he might have peed his pants if he wasn’t running so fast. Jaw clenched, I pounded down the pavement. He made a wide turn around the corner at the end of the street and I instantly pushed myself harder, afraid of losing him. I was angry that someone had the gall to steal something from right under my nose and think no one would notice. What kind of idiot did he take Wren for, anyway?
My hand slapped against a railing that fenced in the dining area at the restaurant on the corner. I gripped it tightly, pivoting myself so I could turn the corner without needing to slow down too much. I didn’t expect to collide head-on with a random pedestrian and knock the both of us onto the concrete. The last I saw of my shoplifter was the back of his head disappearing from view. I mentally cursed myself – first, for letting that jackass get away and second, for not realizing sooner that I was practically straddling a complete stranger.
“Oh, my god!” I gushed immediately, lifting myself off of scraped elbows. Three different pains knifed through me at the same time and I wasn’t sure which I should check on first. I was embarrassed enough, crashing into some guy because I wasn’t looking where I was going. “I am so… so sorry. Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t even – I’m sorry,” word vomit spilled out of my mouth. My lower lip tasted metallic. I must have cut it on his…chin…?
“I’m fine,” he replied. He sounded winded. I must have given him a scare. My eyes inspected his face. The first thing I noticed besides his…curiously handsome features was the fact that his nose had begun to sluggishly bleed. He cupped a large hand over it to keep from dripping and leaned towards me. He carefully grasped my upper arm with his free hand and helped me to my feet. I smiled at his chivalry.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I apologized again, “Just stay here for like, one minute.” I hurried up the stairs and into the restaurant, snatching up a handful of napkins from the first table I saw. I didn’t really care if anyone was watching; this was kind of an emergency. I bounded back outside and handed the balled up wad to my new peer and he chuckled softly.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” He said, pulling a part of the bundle out and pressing it to his nose. He took the rest of it and mopped up his mouth and hand. “I, uh, should go up to the bathroom…”
“Oh! Right,” I nodded stupidly, a toothy smile stuck on my face like rubber cement. He sounded all nasally with his nose plugged up. “Did you see the way that other kid went?” I asked him hurriedly.
“Er, the guy in the sweatshirt? I saw him for a second but…” he faltered, his eyes darting momentarily to the right, “…I didn’t see where he went.”
“Ah. Thanks,” I replied, feeling awkward and defeated. I sucked at my split lip and gingerly touched my elbows, surveying the damage. It was minimal. I turned back towards the store, sneakers scuffing the pavement.
“Wait…” the voice stopped me. He was still standing on the restaurant’s front stairs, staring at me over a chunk of bloody tissue. His lips parted and I listened for words, but they didn’t come. He looked immediately flustered. I didn’t know what else to do, so I stood there with this expectant look on my face. The silence stretched on, people walked by and their voices floated over to me. Still nothing.
“You should…I mean, I’d like to talk with you some more.” He said. “You know…when I’m not bleeding.” He smiled, dimples digging into the corners of his mouth. A pit opened up in my gut.
“I don’t…” I looked down at my feet, elbows stinging. What would he want to talk to me for? I was wearing sweats, a basketball jersey and my hair was a rat’s nest. I scuffed the ground with the toe of my sneaker, wondering if I should completely resist his boyish charm. I had better things to worry about. “I’ll be at the grocery store down the street for a little while.” I blurted quickly. All my words felt smushed together. I chanced another look at his face. "I'm Hunter, but the way."
“Nice to meet you, Hunter.” He nodded in obvious satisfaction. “I’m Toby. And I guess I’ll catch you later.”
I smiled dumbly. Again. As I watched him vanish into the little corner restaurant, I stared at the brick walls and hoped Wren would be sort of proud of me. I wouldn’t bring back a shoplifter, but I finally had something juicy she could sink her teeth into.
"Being afraid is sort of different than being alive," She told me, her voice low against my ear. "But if you're afraid of being alive, well, we're here to fix that."
Half Moon Bay, California was never Hunter's idea of a real home. Her Dad left the family a couple of years ago, chasing the dreams of his youth (and the tail of his youth). Her mother grows weaker by the day, drowning her sorrows in alcohol and pathetic boyfriends. However, she still holds the strength to attempt to live vicariously through her daughter. Hunter is a quiet girl, living out the remainder of her high school days on a carefully constructed path to a safe future. That's exactly how she needs everything to be: safe, secure and predictable. Because life has thrown her curve balls in the past, she resolves to be prepared for the future.
Throughout spring of her junior year, outside forces start interfering with Hunter's guarded little world. Five kids that nobody wanted help to break her shell and give her something no one else could. She just has to decide whether it's all worth the risk.
[/center]Half Moon Bay, California was never Hunter's idea of a real home. Her Dad left the family a couple of years ago, chasing the dreams of his youth (and the tail of his youth). Her mother grows weaker by the day, drowning her sorrows in alcohol and pathetic boyfriends. However, she still holds the strength to attempt to live vicariously through her daughter. Hunter is a quiet girl, living out the remainder of her high school days on a carefully constructed path to a safe future. That's exactly how she needs everything to be: safe, secure and predictable. Because life has thrown her curve balls in the past, she resolves to be prepared for the future.
Throughout spring of her junior year, outside forces start interfering with Hunter's guarded little world. Five kids that nobody wanted help to break her shell and give her something no one else could. She just has to decide whether it's all worth the risk.
One
[/font][/center]Hunter
Wren was having boy trouble. I wasn’t surprised because Wren was always having boy trouble, but this time she expected full audience participation. Dealing with guys wasn’t at all in my area of expertise, but judging by the way she let her sentences hang and shot me furtive glances while she manned the grocery store’s cash register, I was going to have to come up with something.
“He’s in this store every Sunday afternoon, almost without fail. I catch him looking at me, like, nine hundred times. Then he comes up to the counter with milk or something and doesn’t say a word. He just leaves.” Her fake nails clacked against the granite countertop and I winced, looking down at my own hands. Clasped around my lucky basketball, they looked so…rough. Girls like Wren had hands designed for such femininity as faux nails, but that kind of thing would look ridiculous on me. I bit mine.
“Maybe he just knows you’re too good for him.” I finally mumbled. She clicked her tongue against the inside of her cheek the way she always did when she was unsatisfied. Still, she plastered on her pearly phony grin and directed an elderly customer to the deli counter.
“That old geezer comes in here every week and asks me the same thing…” Wren muttered, wiping her hands absently on her uniform apron. Forest green and almost plastic looking, it would look awkward on anyone but Wren. Somehow, like everything else in her life, she just rocked it.
“Maybe he likes you.” I offered a clumsy smile.
“At least he has the guts to talk to me.”
“You’re way too hung up on this,” I snorted some unladylike laughter, “it’s just a guy.”
“You’re obviously missing the appeal of dating.” Wren slumped dramatically over the counter, exhaling heavily and burying her face in the crook of her arm. I was usually entertained by Wren’s bouts of unholy desperation – at least when it wasn’t serious. I shook my head pointedly, though I was pretty sure she wasn’t looking.
“I honestly don’t think I’m missing anything.” I informed her, balancing my lucky ball on my knees. My fingertips gripped the taut orange rubber. A flash of black caught my peripheral vision and I turned to get a look. It was a huge hoodie, much too big for the kid wearing it. I thingyed my eyebrows, watching him quietly. Wren’s all-too-audible groan called my attention and I returned my gaze to her. “Only two hours until closing,” I cajoled. Maybe it would quiet her.
“This bites.” She grumbled.
I didn’t answer. I was watching the kid. His hands were pale and a little pudgy, and he had bruised knuckles. I couldn’t exactly see his face, only the tufts of dark brown curls poking out from underneath the thick hood. I swear I saw him grab something. Silently I brushed the side of Wren’s arm with the tips of my fingers and she raised her heavy head. Eyes narrowed, she thinned her lips.
“Hey, kid - ”
Like a deer startled by a gunshot, he bolted in the next instant. He nearly fell after an ungainly stumble, but managed to jerk open the door and take off. I dropped my basketball and skirted the counter, catching the door before it closed. I shouldn’t have even bothered. What was I supposed to accomplish, tailing a grocery store shoplifter?
“Hunter!”
I ignored Wren’s confused shout. I was still in Reeboks and my basketball jersey. I could catch him. I half-hoped that he wouldn’t notice I was chasing him so I could get some ground covered, but I wasn’t so lucky. Quickly he peered over his shoulder, his sweatshirt hood sliding down the back of his head. I think he might have peed his pants if he wasn’t running so fast. Jaw clenched, I pounded down the pavement. He made a wide turn around the corner at the end of the street and I instantly pushed myself harder, afraid of losing him. I was angry that someone had the gall to steal something from right under my nose and think no one would notice. What kind of idiot did he take Wren for, anyway?
My hand slapped against a railing that fenced in the dining area at the restaurant on the corner. I gripped it tightly, pivoting myself so I could turn the corner without needing to slow down too much. I didn’t expect to collide head-on with a random pedestrian and knock the both of us onto the concrete. The last I saw of my shoplifter was the back of his head disappearing from view. I mentally cursed myself – first, for letting that jackass get away and second, for not realizing sooner that I was practically straddling a complete stranger.
“Oh, my god!” I gushed immediately, lifting myself off of scraped elbows. Three different pains knifed through me at the same time and I wasn’t sure which I should check on first. I was embarrassed enough, crashing into some guy because I wasn’t looking where I was going. “I am so… so sorry. Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t even – I’m sorry,” word vomit spilled out of my mouth. My lower lip tasted metallic. I must have cut it on his…chin…?
“I’m fine,” he replied. He sounded winded. I must have given him a scare. My eyes inspected his face. The first thing I noticed besides his…curiously handsome features was the fact that his nose had begun to sluggishly bleed. He cupped a large hand over it to keep from dripping and leaned towards me. He carefully grasped my upper arm with his free hand and helped me to my feet. I smiled at his chivalry.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I apologized again, “Just stay here for like, one minute.” I hurried up the stairs and into the restaurant, snatching up a handful of napkins from the first table I saw. I didn’t really care if anyone was watching; this was kind of an emergency. I bounded back outside and handed the balled up wad to my new peer and he chuckled softly.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” He said, pulling a part of the bundle out and pressing it to his nose. He took the rest of it and mopped up his mouth and hand. “I, uh, should go up to the bathroom…”
“Oh! Right,” I nodded stupidly, a toothy smile stuck on my face like rubber cement. He sounded all nasally with his nose plugged up. “Did you see the way that other kid went?” I asked him hurriedly.
“Er, the guy in the sweatshirt? I saw him for a second but…” he faltered, his eyes darting momentarily to the right, “…I didn’t see where he went.”
“Ah. Thanks,” I replied, feeling awkward and defeated. I sucked at my split lip and gingerly touched my elbows, surveying the damage. It was minimal. I turned back towards the store, sneakers scuffing the pavement.
“Wait…” the voice stopped me. He was still standing on the restaurant’s front stairs, staring at me over a chunk of bloody tissue. His lips parted and I listened for words, but they didn’t come. He looked immediately flustered. I didn’t know what else to do, so I stood there with this expectant look on my face. The silence stretched on, people walked by and their voices floated over to me. Still nothing.
“You should…I mean, I’d like to talk with you some more.” He said. “You know…when I’m not bleeding.” He smiled, dimples digging into the corners of his mouth. A pit opened up in my gut.
“I don’t…” I looked down at my feet, elbows stinging. What would he want to talk to me for? I was wearing sweats, a basketball jersey and my hair was a rat’s nest. I scuffed the ground with the toe of my sneaker, wondering if I should completely resist his boyish charm. I had better things to worry about. “I’ll be at the grocery store down the street for a little while.” I blurted quickly. All my words felt smushed together. I chanced another look at his face. "I'm Hunter, but the way."
“Nice to meet you, Hunter.” He nodded in obvious satisfaction. “I’m Toby. And I guess I’ll catch you later.”
I smiled dumbly. Again. As I watched him vanish into the little corner restaurant, I stared at the brick walls and hoped Wren would be sort of proud of me. I wouldn’t bring back a shoplifter, but I finally had something juicy she could sink her teeth into.
*hugs nicky for giving bored ferny something awesome to read* yay! keep writing keep writing! I wanna know what happens next