Posts tagged criticism welcome
Posts tagged criticism welcome
***I wrote this for class and I can’t tell if I even like this to revise it and really work on it. I wrote this in 15 minutes so I’m sure there are plenty of errors and mistakes and it just sucks, but is the idea even worth exploring?
You want to come out and scream at that girl sitting by the window to shut up. She’s twirling her hand on her finger again. Just like every other day. Every. Damn. Day. Here comes James. Perfect James with the wavy blonde hair gelled so stiff that a hurricane wouldn’t move a hair. You watch him sit down in his chair and put his things under the desk. He too is watching everyone. Everyone except you. He doesn’t even know you exist.
“Hey, James.” The voice cuts through the air and pierces my body like a knife. It’s Stacy. Beautiful and talented Stacy. She is sitting down next to perfect James and I can almost hear the angels begin to sing. You clear your throat and I feel myself doing it too. Not yet. “Have a good weekend?”
“Eh,” James replies. He is fiddling with his blue notebook. The one with all the writing all over it. You want to move to read the words. I can feel the urge down to my toes. Just move. One step. One step. “How was yours?” Eye contact. The room goes silent as you watch them continue to walk. There’s only a slight buzzing in your ears letting you know that he’s not talking to you.
“Hey, Briana.” Joseph plops down next to me, dumping his crap all over our table. “Sorry,” he mumbles and he attempts to organize his things. “You get all your homework done?” I nod. “Lucky, I’m so fucking behind.”
“Way to go,” I whisper. The instructor comes in late and tells the class to pull out a sheet of paper for a quiz. The class moans in unison, including you. You watch James rip a sheet of paper out of his notebook perfectly. He hands it to Stacy and rips out another one.
The professor asks a question and I answer quickly while you sit there, pondering about James. What kind of gel does he use? Isn’t Stacy seeing someone? Slut. Does James like her? Why won’t he look over here? Is my hair a mess? Next question. I tuck my hair behind my ears as I continue to write like a madman. How old is he? Why won’t he look over here? “Pass them forward when you’re done.” I scribble my name in the corner before passing the paper to Joseph. You cough loudly and look around the room, making eye contact with a few people. James doesn’t look over. I laugh. “How’d you all do? Was it that hard?”
You stare intently at James, trying to burn a hole through his skull. Still, he does not look over. Stacy whispers in his ear and he chuckles. BITCH. “It was the usual,” I answer.
“Can you elaborate Briana?” Professor Nit-Wit asks.
“Sure. Uh… It wasn’t that hard since I read, but there was a lot that I couldn’t remember. Like the part about the duck? I can’t remember what he was wearing. But then again, it was just a duck.” The class offers a few laughs. James smiles, but doesn’t laugh. You smile. You fidget in your seat, trying to pose without making it obvious you’re posing. You toss your black hair over your shoulder and sigh.
“What is wrong with you, Bri?” Joseph asks.
“What d’you mean?”
“You can’t sit still for five minutes. Damn.” Joseph puts his attention back on the professor who is now writing notes on the blackboard. Your eyes narrow at the back of his head, but you quickly erase the emotion and glance over at James who is staring at us. He smirks and nods a ‘hey.’ You begin to melt and I smile back. He looks down at his notebook and begins writing down the notes on the board. I pull out of my own notebook and begin writing while you think of a million reasons as to why he was looking over. He looked at me. He looked at me. He looked. At me. He looked at ME.
Us. He looked at us. I watch as you take notes on the paper and scribble his name in the corner of the sheet inside of a heart. A few smaller hearts go around it. You nudge Joe and he looks over at it, rolls his eyes, and writes on his own paper ‘Good luck with that.’ You reach over and scribble it out on his paper and draw a smiley face next to it. He chuckles and goes back to taking notes. I scream at you to focus on the notes, but you just write James over and over in different fonts that I didn’t know I knew how to write, and I know, as do you, that I will be getting a D on the next exam while you get an A in calligraphy.