March 4, 2011

371 for tonight. I managed to create an addition to my scene before she knocks the stool out from under him, just to help the reader to see how much she dislikes him. I also wanted to show him as being a little bit creepy. Although that didn't quite come across that way. I'm sure I will add more about him later, either that or rewrite this section all together.

But here is a portion of what I wrote:

In the cafeteria during lunch, Dale glided up beside me and put his good arm around my waist. His injured arm sported a sling. “Still don’t know who it is, right?”

I pulled away, shifted my backpack so it blocked any more advances. “Nope, and I don’t really care.”

“Sure you do.” He picked up a tray and began putting food on it.

Handing the cashier my voucher, I ignored his comment. “Thank you,” I said after she stamped it. Diana waved me over to her table. I turned my back on the creep and joined her.

“Hey, Diana, who are you going to winter formal with?” Dale slid in next to her, opposite me. His tray bumped mine and tipped my milk over into my plate. Great, mushy mashed potatoes. Just what I wanted for lunch. I glared him and removed my lunch and myself to another table. I heard him say to her as I left, “I should just quit.” What I didn’t hear was Diana’s reply. Sometimes I really missed my easy friendship with James and Claudia. At least I didn’t have to play games—I could say what I wanted to say, no pretending, no backstabbing. That was before—I screwed my face into a grimace—Romeleo, Na’Omiri, netherbeasts and Terabound.

Across the room I saw Mr. Smith, the math teacher sitting with a group of freshmen. Dale was headed toward them on his way to the garbage can. Get even. Get him to stop pestering me. Get him in trouble. These thoughts echoed in my head. This time, in control of my abilities, I jerked my head, and Dale’s half eaten food flew out of his good hand and landed in Mr. Smith’s lap. The shocked teacher jumped up and shook clumps of beans from his trousers.

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to.” Dale scrambled to the floor retrieving his mess.

“It’s all right.” I heard Mr. Smith say. “Must be hard to carry that with only one good arm.”

I bit the tip of my tongue to keep from swearing.

Betsy