Late Night Writes

So I’m knee-deep in revisions and plotsting out NaNoWriMo. I stayed up way too late last night revising and only got about four hours of sleep, which means I was super-punchy somewhere around 2:00 p.m. and it took several ounces of caffeinated beverage to fuel my drive from Manhattan, KS to Kansas City, MO.

By Aek1982 CC image via Wikimedia Commons

I’m on a short break from my first #WriteClub and realized I didn’t post today. So since the work I’m revising is in terrible shape right now, I decided to share some of the new stuff I’m drafting.

Tonya follows me into AP English, taking her usual front-row seat. I head for the back, to the desk across from Josh. It’s where I first saw him two weeks ago him on a quiet Monday morning, my head still pounding from a rowdy Saturday night. He was hunched over, head resting on his hand, elbow propped up on the desk, hair blocking his face, obviously out of place.

The room buzzed with speculating whispers. In a school where practically everyone’s known each other since birth, new people are rare as dodo birds and they certainly don’t show up a month into Senior Year. They only way it could be more awkward was if Mrs. Potts made him introduce himself. Which she did first thing.

He got up, cleared his throat. My eyes traveled upward, noticing khakis creased razor-sharp and his broad shoulders, guessing his height at six one or two.

Then he said, ‘I’m Josh Klein,’ and I swear this happened: his voice shot through my body. I felt red-hot from the top of my head and out my toes. I had one thought: I wanted him bad. Like-I’ve-never-wanted-anything bad.

I didn’t hear words. Instead, I fixated on the mouth forming them and the tanned forearm muscles, exposed by his rolled-up sleeves, that flexed as he nervously twirled a pen. I ignored that stupid little voice in the back of my brain saying we don’t do crushes.

When he sat down, shaking his head like tough crowd, I said the first thing that popped into my head.

‘What kind of asshole parents make their kid transfer Senior year?’

He blinked like who is this girl?  Then said, ‘The kind whose son gets kicked out of boarding school.’

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