Thursday, May 7, 2015

"Windows" - Short Story

 Windows
            Derek was absolutely sure he was in love with Amanda.  She had lived next door to him since they were seven years old and they had gone to school together ever since.  He even remembered that she moved into their cul-de-sac neighborhood in Sacramento, California on an unusually rainy Tuesday afternoon.
            Derek remembered that he had just gotten off the school bus where it always dropped him off at the end of the block when he spotted the three moving trucks and an off-white Volvo station wagon parked in the house adjacent to his.  As he walked down the sidewalk towards his house with the other three boys who lived on his block, Derek watched a brunette girl with a Lakers jersey sink a free throw in a basketball hoop at the end of the driveway.
“Whoa,” the boys all said in unison.
She had turned around, her long, wavy, chestnut locks damp from the rain.  Her light blue eyes were a stark contrast, but fit well with her pale skin.  She gave them all a slight wave, then ran to retrieve the ball. 
A tall, slender man emerged from the front door, “Amanda!” He called, “get in here right now!”
Amanda’s petite legs bounded up the front door steps and into the house.

“Your hair’s funny,” Amanda said as she played with his tousled, blonde locks.  She had a small cut on her cheek.
“Why’s that?” Derek asked her, looking up from his comic book that he had cleverly hidden behind their Math textbook.
“It’s so long. You look like a girl.” Amanda stuck her tongue out and giggled.
“Yeah, well, why do you wear that Lakers jersey all the time? You look like a guy,” Derek shot her a glare.  Even as a kid, he felt like he wanted to spend every moment with her and he was also afraid of her.
Amanda frowned and grabbed the reading glasses from Derek’s nose, revealing his chocolate brown eyes.  They grew wide with anger as he struggled miserably to retrieve his glasses. 
“Give them back!”
“You have to get them from me if you want them,” Amanda teased, reaching her hand high up in the air so that the glasses were out of his reach.  She was slightly taller than him, especially when she was on her tippy-toes.
“Amanda! Derek! Sit down, you’re being disruptive,” Ms. Ravin shouted from the front of the class. “And Amanda, please give Derek back his glasses.”
“Let’s play HORSE after school.  If you win, you get to take something from me.  And if I win, I get take something from you.” Amanda handed him back his glasses and sat down.
“Fine, as long as it’s not my glasses.”

            “And… that’s E.  You lose!” Amanda shouted.  She laughed wildly and ran around Derek in circles, dribbling the ball.
            “Fine, you win fair and square,” Derek adjusted the glasses on his nose as if to say, “I need these.” Amanda stopped running and walked in front of him, balancing the ball in her palm.
            “I want your most favorite comic book,” she said, her eyes twinkling with enchantment.  Derek liked the way she looked when she was excited.
            “Can it be my second most favorite?” Derek hated to think he’d have to part ways with Detective Comics #27, which was the original comic book that introduced Batman as a superhero in 1939.  His dad had given it to him when he was five and his dad had given it to him when he was five.  Now, he couldn’t keep up the family tradition.  And his dad was somewhere overseas in the military.  Derek could only imagine how disappointed he’d be if he gave it away.
            “No, I won fair and square and I want your most favorite comic book,” Amanda said, stomping her foot.
            He wanted to tell her that he couldn’t part ways with it because it was the only thing that he had right now that connected him to his dad and it was his most prized possession.  But she had won fair and square.  He knew if it were any other girl, he wouldn’t give it up.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Come to my room.”
Between the stacks of Pokémon cards and a small comic book collection lay Derek’s most favorite comic book: Detective Comics #27.  It had its own prominent space on his desk that was used for everything except doing homework. 
“Here it is,” Derek said, grabbing it and holding it up for Amanda to see.
“Detective Comics #27?” She took the comic book from him and began to flip through the pages.
“Yeah, DC comics for short.  This is the first issue Batman was ever in. It’s really old,” Derek said.  “Take good care of it.”
For the next two weeks, Amanda had worn a Batman shirt to school everyday.

When they were both thirteen, they began to drift apart.  She drifted from him and he let it happen.  They still smiled at each other and said “hi” in passing when they would see each other on the bus to and from school, but nothing more.  
Now at seventeen, Amanda had established her group of girlfriends, Casey and Ally, and Derek had his two best friends: Cole and Sander, who shared his enthusiasm for comic books and Xbox games.  They were great, but they weren’t Amanda.
They liked to remind him almost daily that she was now “way out of his league.”
On a regular sunny Sacramento Monday, Derek idled by his locker and listened in while Code and Sander argued over the new Call of Duty game.
“The graphics are insane but the gameplay is nothing compared to Modern Warfare 3,” Cole said.
“Bullshit, man,” Sander said, shaking his head. “Advanced Warfare’s gameplay is a thousand times better than MW3.”
Derek placed a Chemistry textbook into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.  He was well adjusted to these types of arguments; sometimes he weighed his opinion in, but today he wasn’t feeling up to debating.
“Did you guys study for the Chem test?”
Cole and Sadler both turned towards Derek, “Yeah, did you?” 
Derek closed his locker and the three of them walked down the hall towards their Chem class. “Yeah, but Mr. Wilde is pretty harsh.  I got a B on the last test even though I studied for hours.”
“Don’t sweat it, dude.  At least we’re more prepared than Colin and his crew.”
Colin and his crew was the term that most of the student body used to describe varsity football captain and quarterback, Colin Schwartz, and his two best friends, Jack and Mike, not coincidentally also on the football team as a running back and lineman, respectively.  Colin hosted parties weekly in his mansion when his dad was away on business trips; his mom had died when he was little, but Derek didn’t know all the details.
Derek nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting towards Amanda at her locker with Colin by her side.  He had one arm around her shoulder and the other against the closed locker adjacent to Amanda’s.  Amanda had been with Colin for almost a year now, Derek discerned.  He had no idea why she subjected herself to such a cliché type of guy when Amanda had been anything but a cliché.

That night, Derek’s mother called from the kitchen, “Honey, I’m just going out to the grocery store.  Do you need anything?” He knew that if she shouted an answer back, she wouldn’t hear him and it would be a long back and forth until he actually went downstairs and answered her question when he was in the same room as her.  So, he headed down to the kitchen and looked into the fridge before answering.
“Can’t go wrong with waffles.”
His mother laughed and said she’d be back in an hour or less.  She walked out to her car and he went back up to his room, collapsing on his bed and eagerly returning to the latest volume of his favorite comic book Batman and Robin.  He soaked up everything this issue was offering him before he heard a tap at his window.  He placed the comic book upside down (he wouldn’t dare crinkle the pages by dog-earing the corners), and turned around. 
Amanda Wilson sat at his windowsill clad in a long-sleeved Batman t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of Chuck Taylors. “You gonna let me in?” She called, her laugh ringing pleasantly in his ears.
Derek opened his window and lifted the screen so Amanda could crawl in.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” This was the most he had said to her in four years.
“You’ve changed a lot,” Amanda said, ignoring his question as she gazed around the room covered with various cartoon characters and his ever-expanding comic book collection.  His Pokémon cards were tucked in a Pokémon binder in his bookcase, surrounded by dozens of science fiction and fantasy novels. 
“Really?” Derek asked, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.
“All of my observations are sarcasm-based.” Amanda wandered into Derek’s closet and snatched a gray beanie from one of the shelves.  She placed it over her head and pulled it down so it covered the tips of her ears.
“Hey, you can’t just come in through my window and steal my hats,” Derek said, his shoulders slumping as he spoke.  He didn’t want to scare her away, but he also didn’t want to challenge whatever it was that she was up to.
“I need your help,” she said, turning around and flashing her piercing blue eyes at him.  They were twinkling with the same type of enchantment he remembered her having as a kid.
“You’re going to have to elaborate,” Derek said. “Nice shirt by the way.”
“I had to get a new one when I outgrew the one I got after you gave me the comic book,” Amanda said with a smile. She bit her lip and clapped her hands together. “I need to borrow some money.”
“What?” Derek had been hoping for something a little more personal, something that only he could help her with. “Can’t you borrow money from Casey or Ally?” He paused, then mumbled, “or Colin.”
“NO!” she spat, taking a book that was lying on Derek’s top shelf and throwing it with force across the room. It hit the wall with a loud thud! and fell to the ground, a black mark visible on the wall in its wake. 
“Amanda!” Derek rushed over to the book and rubbed the sleeve of his gray t-shirt furiously against the wall. “What gives? My mom is gonna flip when she sees this.” Derek entertained the thought that Amanda might be on drugs.  She was too well spoken to be drunk.  Maybe she was just crazy.
“Yeah, yeah.  I’ll help you repaint it later,” she dismissed him. “I need your help and your money because Casey and Ally are ‘too busy’ with homework to help me tonight and don’t want to go out because it’s a ‘school night’ and they might ‘get in trouble.’”
Derek was amused at the way she put air quotes over certain phrases.  He smiled, “But I’m a nerd, and two of those things fall under my criteria as well.” He was curious to hear what Amanda thought of him after all these years, what she’d noticed about the type of person he had become.  The last thing he wanted to do was get out of helping her.
“Oh, please. You get straight As and I know you probably finished all your homework for the week,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes.  She then grasped his hand and locked eyes with him. “It’s you, Derek,” She said, dramatically, as if pretending to have found her long lost love, “I need you.”
Derek couldn’t help but laugh.  So that’s what she thought of him.  Well, he had to admit, she wasn’t too far off.  He swung their arms back and forth, “Okay, Amanda.  I’m in.  But can you please explain what it is that we’re doing exactly?”
Amanda released his hand and Derek immediately missed the warmth.  She gave him a fist bump, “Hell yeah!” She cried.  The she started pacing the room, appearing deep in thought.  “First, you need to change into something much more camouflage-y.  Then, we need to drive to Albertson’s and buy two-dozen eggs.”
“Drive? You mean like in my mom’s car?” Derek frowned.  Surely Amanda knew he didn’t have his own car to drive.
“No, silly.  We’re gonna take mine,” Amanda said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Okay, so do you have like black pants and a black shirt?”
“Yeah, I do, but— ”
“Great, change and meet me in my driveway in ten minutes.  Don’t forget to bring money for the eggs!” Amanda said as she slipped through the window and jumped onto the roof.  Derek heard her feet hit in the ground.  This was definitely the weirdest thing he had ever done, but he wasn’t going to let Amanda slip away from him again.

“Is this suitable?” Derek was wearing a plain black t-shirt with black corduroys and one of Cole’s old pairs of black Vans skateboard shoes that he had grown tired of when he’d given up his skateboarding hobby.  He had left a note in the kitchen for his mom, saying that he was sleeping over at Cole’s tonight and “not to call because they were hard at work on a chemistry project.”  He knew she would trust him.
“Perfect,” Amanda said, turning the key in the ignition of her Jeep. When she turned the headlights on, Derek noticed she was wearing black face paint.
“You’re really into this.”
“Hell yeah I am.  Do you know what we’re going to do tonight, Derek?”
“No, I was actually hoping you’d tell me,” he said, buckling his seatbelt as she began to drive.
“We’re going to make history,” she said, glancing over at him with the biggest grin he’d seen on her.  He swore that his matched hers for different reasons.  He had never felt closer to her in that moment.

“Albertson’s looks sorta sketchy at night.”
“Everything is different at night, especially people.” Amanda was a stride ahead of Derek as she walked through the front doors of the Albertson’s grocery store.
Derek had no idea what Amanda meant by that.  From what he’d come to understand, people were either real or fake and it had nothing to do with the time of day; it had everything to do with their level of closeness to you. 
“Cage-free, extra-large, egg whites, or brown eggs? So many options to choose from…” Derek said, scanning the multitude of eggs in front of him.
“Just pick the cheapest dozen you can get, cause we need two of them,” Amanda said.  Derek glanced away from her and settled on two-dozen eggs for three dollars and twelve cents each, tucking them under his arm.
“All good to go,” Derek said, and Amanda looked up at him with a smile.  “Are you ever gonna tell me what these are for?”
“Great, step two is almost complete.  Patience is a virtue, my friend.”

“This place looks familiar,” Derek commented, looking up at the grandiose mansion with dozens of lights surrounding the long driveway and the front door.  There were more windows than he could care to count.
They had parked across the street from the mansion.  Amanda had wedged her Jeep between a mini-van and a Toyota Corolla, making a comment about how it would look “less suspicious” that way. 
“That’s because you’ve partied here before,” Amanda said.  She opened the car door and knelt down on the pavement, using her phone screen as a flashlight.  Derek followed suit, assuming they had to be “in camouflage” now.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve been here before,” Derek said as he crawled next to Amanda. “I don’t really party.”  He recalled what she had said before: “All my observations are sarcasm-based.” Judging from her lack of response, he assumed she was waiting for him to remember that. 
A few seconds later, Amanda chimed in, “The best way to get in is climbing up the tree in the back and then through the second story window.  You have the eggs, right?”
“Yeah… I have them right here, but wait, we’re breaking in?”
“No, we’re not breaking anything, so we’re not ‘breaking in.’ We’re just paying someone a visit…”
The more Amanda spoke, the more she sounded like a deranged serial killer to Derek.  He swallowed a lump in his throat and realized the bag of eggs was moving back and forth because his hands were shaking.
“Amanda, whose house is this? Are we going to egg this person’s house or something? Isn’t that a little childish?” Derek had so many questions and he was growing frustrated with Amanda’s lack of answers.
She ignored him again and took off in a sprint through the long driveway.  Derek thought about dropping the bag of eggs and making a run for it; he cursed his inability to drive.  That way, he wouldn’t be identified as her accomplice to whatever crazy scheme she was about to commit.
He couldn’t leave her behind.  So, he ran after her.  All those track & field practices were paying off for him.  He caught up to Amanda in a matter of seconds and followed her as they wove through the large lawn.  When they reached the back of the house, they stopped by a swing set drenched in cobwebs and leaves.  Amanda decided this would be a good place to whisper.
“Okay, you see that window right there?” She pointed to a second story window almost directly above where they were standing. “We’re going to climb that tree right there,” she said, pointing now to the tree that stood to the left of the swing set with dozens of thick branches popping out of it. “And then we’re gonna walk quietly on the roof and slide in through the window. Easy peazy.”
“In what world is that easy peazy? What are you, a monkey?” Derek shook his head in disbelief.
“Precisely,” she said, snatching the bag of eggs from Derek’s hand. “I’ll take these so you can stop whining.”
“Can you please tell me who lives here?”
Amanda laughed, then swiftly turned, running at full speed towards the tree. She had tucked the bag of eggs on her shoulder and somehow managed to jump onto the tree, gripping it with dexterity as she shimmied up its stem.  Derek stared at her, slack-jawed, and wondered how the hell he was going to do this. She looked like freakin’ Catwoman.
Amanda crawled on her knees along a thick branch that stretched towards the house.  She would have to make a significant leap to reach the roof, which she prepared herself for by placing the bag of eggs between her teeth and balancing on her feet.  She steadied herself, then in one swift motion, jumped onto the roof.  She landed with her hands outstretched, probably to support herself, and was surprisingly relatively quiet.
“Come on!” Amanda called out, ushering him forward with her hands.
Derek gulped, the tree looming in front of him like a giant rock climbing wall without any nubs to hold onto.  He could feel his heart racing and his hands trembling; he had no idea how he was going to be able to grip onto this tree let alone climb it.  He hesitated, then broke into a sprint.  He thrust his arms outward and wrapped them around the tree as he jumped off the ground.  The impact of the bark against his t-shirt felt like dozens of little needles piercing through the skin in his hands and chest.
Once Derek got over the initial shock, he glided his hands and knees up the tree stem, holding on for dear life.  He looked up to Amanda for reassurance, but she was already busying herself getting the window open, the bag of eggs resting at her feet.  He looked back up at the tree that seemed to have grown longer and he took a deep breath, pushing off with his feet and reaching his hands further up the bark.  He managed to move his body inch by inch until he reached the branch.  It was an awkward transition to get on his knees, but he felt more relaxed and stable as he crawled along the branch.
“Window’s open, hurry,” Amanda said, ducking her head under the window frame and squeezing her body through the tiny space. 
Derek rose to his feet, wobbling slightly and momentarily contemplating if he would die if he fell from a height this steep.  He looked down and immediately regretted his decision.  Why the hell was he climbing a tree in the middle of the night in some random person’s backyard?
When he looked back over the window, Amanda was already inside.  The last thing he wanted to do was be caught outside alone, so he leapt onto the roof, his right foot scraping the edge and he gripped onto the shingles for dear life.  His landing was considerably louder than Amanda.  She poked her head out the window.
“I don’t think they heard you in China.  Now come on, before they wake up!” Her head disappeared back inside, and Derek, quietly as he could, slid his body in through the open window. 
“Leave it open or closed?” he asked.
“Just leave it,” Amanda answered.  He could barely make her out in the little light from outside.  She was knelt on the ground, both cartons of eggs open on top of a football shaped rug. 
Derek glanced around the room.  A large bed was directly in front of him.  To the left was a nightstand with a large TV sitting on top of it, and to the right of the nightstand was a closet.  It looked to Derek like a standard bedroom, but he still hadn’t connected the dots as to whose bedroom it was.  He stared at the bed, his vision adjusting to the darkness, and he could finally make out two figures spooning one another.  One was definitely a girl, and the other a boy.  A blanket covered both of them and from what Derek could make out, it was the only thing covering their nakedness.
“That’s Colin and a girl who isn’t me,” Amanda whispered in his ear.  Derek hadn’t realized she’d moved so close to him.  She placed an egg in the palm of his hand.  “I’ll throw the first one, and then we’ll just pelt them all at him.”
“I’m so confused,” Derek said, both to Amanda and himself. “If you know he’s cheating on you, why are you with him?”
“I just found out,” she said nonchalantly, picking up as many eggs as she could hold without dropping them.  “On my count… 3…2…1!”
Without hesitation, Amanda launched two eggs at the couple.  The first hit Colin in the head and a resounding, “OW!” was his response.  The second hit him somewhere on the torso, and by now, he was sitting up straight.
“ATTACK!” Amanda screamed, and Derek threw the only egg he had in his hand, reaching eagerly down to the cartons for more.
“What the fuck is going on?” Colin shouted, fumbling for the light switch on his nightstand.  Egg after egg hit him, yolk spilling over onto the sheets.  The girl he was with shrieked as she rolled out of the bed and onto the floor, pulling the blanket with her.  This left Colin exposed as he stood up, his hand finding the light switch.
“Surprise, fucker,” Amanda wiggled her eyebrows at Colin, who thrust his hands in front of his exposed penis.  Then, she pelted him with the rest of the eggs in the first carton.  Derek joined in, throwing six eggs one after one at him, before stopping when he caught sight of the girl he was with.
“Um, Amanda,” he tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the girl hugging the blanket tight around her body.
“Casey, are you fucking kidding me?” Amanda had saved just one egg in the second carton, and she picked it up, tossing it up and down.
“Amanda, I’m so sorry.  I—I thought—”
“Fuck you.” Amanda threw the egg straight at her face, and Casey screamed as she turned away from it.  The yolk splattered all over Casey’s golden hair and Derek stifled a laugh.
“You’re fucking dead, Amanda.  I’m gonna ruin you tomorrow,” Colin spat, his finger pointed at Amanda, while his other hand remained over his penis. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
Amanda shook her head, laughing loudly.  She motioned towards the window and Derek crawled through it. “Do your worst.” She pulled out her iPhone and snapped several pics of the scene, flipped them both off, then slipped back through the window.
Derek was already on the ground when Amanda appeared outside.  Amanda made it down even faster than he did, and they both ran in strides towards her Jeep.  Amanda was giggling the whole way, stopping once she got to the car to catch her breath; she was doubled over in a laughing fit.
“That was fucking awesome,” she said finally, taking deep breaths. “And I have the photographic evidence to prove it.” She whipped out her iPhone and scrolled through the pictures.  Derek burst out laughing; the situation was even funnier now that he knew it would be forever documented.
“You gotta send me those,” he said as they both climbed into the car.
Amanda turned the ignition and drove off.  A comfortable silence filled the car.  Derek felt euphoric, like he had just experienced something so unfathomable in the best possible way.  He wondered if Amanda cared about Colin’s threat, if she was concerned.  He wondered just how Colin could “ruin” her.  He wondered if she had something to be ashamed of.  Some part of him continued to hope that she would tell him what it was if she did.
“Where are we going?” he finally asked as they began to drive down an unfamiliar road. 
“You’ll see.”
Derek looked at the time: it was already 2 AM.  He had to be awake for school in four hours but he wasn’t even close to being tired.  In that moment, he had never felt more alive.

“This is my favorite place to just be,” Amanda said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she looked across the shimmering pond.  Derek knew where they were: McKinley Park; he’d been here a handful of times with his mom taking advantage of the public tennis courts, but they’d never spent time by the pond, and they’d never been here after dark.  It was closed off at night, but Amanda knew a section of the fence that was always kept open. Now that they had done one illegal activity already, Derek was surprisingly calm about breaking into a park after dark. 
They were seated on a bench tucked away from public view in a grassy area, a beautiful cherry blossom tree to their right, providing a pleasant smell when combined with the pond water.
“So you come here a lot?” What a stupid question, Derek thought.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve been coming here since I was little, actually.  When I first moved into the neighborhood.”
“Really? How come you never mentioned this place before?”
“I’ve never told anyone, actually.  You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
Derek’s heart thrummed.  He wondered why him? Why now?
“I actually found this place the first time I ran away,” Amanda continued, staring blankly ahead.  Derek noticed her lack of eye contact.
“Ran away?”
“Yeah, I ran away from my dad the first time he ever hit me.” Amanda folded her arms across her lap, toying with her hands.
Derek bit his lip, turning his head so he was looking into Amanda’s blue eyes.  She seemed sullen all of a sudden and the mood was a stark contrast to what it had been thirty minutes ago at Colin’s mansion.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea,” Derek said.
“It’s okay,” she answered quickly. “My mom’s death has been hard on him and he’s always blamed me for it.”
“What? Why would he blame you for it?”
“She died giving birth to me.” 
Derek blinked a few times, letting this new information sink in.  He had no idea that her dad was abusive, let alone that her mother had died giving birth to her.  He just knew that she had died sometime before they’d moved into the neighborhood.
“He always said I looked just like her.  It probably just drove him crazy.”
“Does he still hurt you?”
Amanda nodded, raising the right sleeve of her Batman shirt to reveal a bruise about the size of her iPhone.  Derek wanted to reach for her hand, to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react.
“Your dad always seemed like a pretty good guy, to be honest.  I feel stupid for not realizing what he was really like.”  He thought for a moment, realizing that perhaps he’d projected what he wanted in a father onto her dad without ever really getting to know him beyond superficial basketball games in the driveway.
Amanda laughed, shaking her head and finally turning towards Derek.  She looked at him earnestly, “Every human being is a contradiction.  Some just hide it better than others.”
“Do you really believe that?”  Maybe Amanda was a contradiction to everything that Derek had ever assumed that she was.
“Of course I do.”
“Okay, then tell me, why of all people did you date Colin Schwartz? That guy has got to be the biggest cliché.  There’s no way he’s a contradiction.”
“He’s going to Harvard in the fall.  He got accepted early decision.”
Derek leaned forward and laughed, but Amanda didn’t join in.  He stopped laughing and cleared his throat.  “You’re serious?”
“He’s actually really smart.  He just pretends to be a dumb jock to ‘fit in’ with the rest of the football team.” She smirked at Derek’s surprised reaction.  Obviously, she had told this story before and had received a similar reaction.
“Well I’ll be dammed.”
“Yeah, he was a pretty decent guy… until now that is.”
“Seriously, what is he going to do to you tomorrow?”
Amanda rolled her eyes, “Whatever he does, I’ll live through it.  High school really isn’t that big of a deal.”
Derek nodded, surprised at how serene she seemed all of a sudden. “So you’re not mad that your boyfriend cheated on your with one of your best friends?”
“Casey was never that much of my friend anyway.  Neither is Ally.  They’re just sort of there.  When I started dating Colin, they just gravitated towards me and they stuck.”
“So why didn’t you just tell them ‘hey, I don’t actually want to spend any time with you?’”
“They were tolerable,” she said, shrugging.
Derek couldn’t understand this.  Why would anyone want to spend time with people they didn’t connect with? Pretend to be friends with people? It made no sense to him.  She could’ve just been his friend all this time…
“So what about you? What are your college plans?”
“You seriously want to talk about college plans at 3 in the morning?” Amanda shook her head. “Fine then.  Let’s take a walk around the pond.”
Derek walked by her side, his hands in his pockets.  “Waiting to hear back from colleges is super nerve-wracking.  I just figured it’d be nice to talk about it to relieve some of the stress.”
“Yeah, well, I’m hoping to get into UCLA to study psychology.  But UCLA is hard to get into and I’m not the perfect student.”  Amanda was looking at her feet as she walked. “I don’t like that my future is in the hands of people that I’ll probably never meet.  I don’t want to fail because other people have terrible taste.”
Derek smiled.  This he could understand.  “You’re smart, Amanda.  You seem to know a lot about people, well, apart from the fact that Casey was sleeping with your boyfriend.”
 “Actually,” Amanda countered, “I knew he was sleeping with somebody besides me because he was always making up excuses for why he couldn’t come over or why I couldn’t come over, bullshit excuses.  Then he would show up at my house smelling like Chanel perfume and that was the last straw.”
“Does it suck knowing it was Casey and not some other random girl from school?”
“Honestly, no.  Just gives me a reason to finally cut her loose.” Amanda kicked a pebble by her feet and continued walking.
“So, why UCLA?”
“It’s far away from here, but not out of the state.  It’s got a great Psych program and anything’s possible in LA, right?”
 “Certainly is.” He paused. “You know, when my dad left for the military when I was a kid, I knew I never wanted to be too far away from my mom.  I couldn’t bear to see her cry the way she did when my dad would leave for years at a time, so I kind of made a pact with myself to stay near her as long as I possibly could.”
Amanda’s eyes met his and she offered a smile, “That’s really sweet.”
“I don’t know where I’d be without her, honestly.”
They had circled the pond twice now, and as Amanda checked her iPhone, Derek’s eyes caught sight of the time: 4 am.  In two hours, he’d be awake and getting ready for school.  Exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm him.
“We should head back,” Derek said.  Amanda glanced up at him, quirking an eyebrow and shrugging.
“Fine by me.” She stuffed her phone back in her jeans pocket and the two headed towards her Jeep.

Amanda pulled into their cul-de-sac, turning her headlights off several houses before reaching hers and Derek’s.  She drove at a snail’s pace, trying to make as little noise as possible.  Finally, she came to a stop in her driveway and Derek fumbled for the door handle.
“Wait,” Amanda said, causing Derek to turn away from the door and towards her. After the night they had spent together, Amanda seemed much more like a stranger to him than the person he had thought she was after all these years. It scared him. A lot had changed since they were kids. 
The certainty of his feelings toward her had faded into obscurity.  He realized now that they were different people who led completely different lives.  Amanda wasn’t someone he could relate to or wanted to hang out with.  All these years he thought she was his dream girl, but now he understood that they were completely incompatible.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Amanda continued. “You know, I chose you for a reason.”
“Chose me?”
“Yeah, I chose you to help me out tonight.  I knew that you were the only person in my life who would agree to such a crazy scheme without knowing too much of the details.”
Derek wondered if she showed up at his window now after knowing all that he learned about her, would he do it all again?
“You owe me 7 bucks.”
Amanda chuckled and leaned in to embrace Derek.  He stiffly wrapped his arms around her, the first real contact that they’d had in years.  It was completely unfamiliar.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, letting go of him. 
Derek reached for the door of the Jeep and opened it.  He turned and gave Amanda one last look before heading towards his house.

The overbearing sound of his buzzer woke Derek up after about an hour of sleep.  He groaned and reached for the snooze button, anger seeping through him as he realized he couldn’t reach it and would have to get up to turn it off.  With a stretch of his arms and an extensive yawn, he pulled the covers off of his body and stood up.  He pressed the ‘off’ button on his alarm when something caught his eye.  A rolled up comic book wrapped neatly in a black bow lay in the middle of the floor.
It was just close enough to his window to have been tossed through it.  Derek picked it up and removed the bow, unrolling it in the process.  It was the original Detective Comics #27, the very same one he had given to Amanda when he was seven.  He realized that this was her way of wrapping things up with him.  It was a mutual understanding that they were both going on with their lives, without each other.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

"Mirrors" Writing Exercise

Prompt:
1. Mirrors
Does one of your characters have an obsession with their appearance? Is she the type that habitually glances at every reflective surface in order to catch a glimpse of herself? Does this behavior have a negative effect? This week, write a story in which this character can no longer examine her appearance. Perhaps she goes on a camping trip, or decides to take down all the mirrors in her house. Think about how this change in circumstance can impact the character’s mood, confidence, and outlook on life.
--
Mom had always told me not to play with fireworks. But like any teenager, I ignored her warning. When the first one hit my eyes, I was instantly blinded; color and scenery were replaced with infinite blackness, an inescapable darkness. I wanted to open my eyes (oh, the irony...) to see Jared's face, his warm smile and his hazel eyes that bore deep resemblance to his compassionate mother who single-handedly raised him when his father died a week after his birth. 
I can't remember what I used to look like. I imagine myself with tangled raven hair and pink streaks, but the image is no longer clear in my mind. Jared tells me the pink is still there, albeit faded by the sun's rays. I rely on him to describe my body and face to me. He lives with me now and takes care of me, something a twenty-year old boy should never have to do for his younger-by-one-year girlfriend, but I believe his good intentions came from his mother and her values.
I used to look at myself in the mirror forty or more times a day, depending on whether or not I was going to an event or party that called for formal attire. I put my makeup on slowly and meticulously, spending thirty minutes or more to make sure my foundation was symmetrical and that no spot was left uncovered. I straightened my hair with a flat iron every morning before school and doused it with hair products that claimed to tame frizzy hair and make it sleek. They did the job, most of the time anyway. Black eyeliner and blue eyeshadow were my weaknesses; I used them to compliment my indigo eyes.
I guess you could say I was somewhat of a perfectionist. I needed to look good everyday for myself and for anyone who I just might bump into; hey, it landed me Jared, and for that I am incredibly thankful.
Being blind has been, pun intended, an eye-opening experience. Things that mattered so much to me then are trivial now; I can't compare myself to other people anymore and envy their looks. I can no longer assure myself that I look better than the girls in my class.  I am forced to stay forever in this eternal darkness where everything looks exactly the same.
I wouldn't say that I'm depressed because I have four other perfectly good senses to rely on. But, I do feel helpless, needing to be taken care of at a time in my life when I am supposed to feel invincible. I have a full-time college aid relaying information to me and taking class notes for me. I miss the little things - seeing the sun, rain and snow, making eye contact with everyone close to me and even strangers, the way that people looked when they were excited and happy. But most of all, I miss watching Jared embrace me or the way his lips would hover over mine just before we kissed. My reflection was so far removed from my memory, but the people in my life would likely be there forever.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Response to "The Lady with the Dog" by Anton Chekov

I absolutely loved this story and I think that Chekov's use of language is so brilliant.  He does a lot of telling in this story but he gives the reader just the right amount of information and it doesn't feel like it's overkill.  He is able to sum up Dmtri's emotions in just a few words.  One of the lines that I particularly loved was Dmtri's reaction just after Anna tells him how she feels about herself and her husband. "Gurov felt bored already, listening to her. He was irritated by the naïve tone, by this remorse, so unexpected and inopportune; but for the tears in her eyes, he might have thought she was jesting or playing a part." The description is beautiful, and these kind of lines make me want to not only continue reading the story, but to read that same line over and over again so the beauty of the words really sink in.

Though the character arc of the story was somewhat predictable: womanizing man falls in love with a girl, gets over his womanizing ways, and realizes how horribly he treated women in the past, I did not expect them to actually end up together.  I was glad, however, that Dmtri's character didn't change too radically; at the end, he still feels disconcerted by the way that he has fallen in love and has not completely given into the prospect of being in love.  He is happy though that he has ended up with Anna despite the fact that they have had to runaway together, whereas Anna is more reluctant about their decision to run away.  This contrast in their beliefs about the choice they made is very believable.

Towards the end of the story, one of the lines that stood out to me was: "He had two lives: one, open, seen and known by all who cared to know, full of relative truth and of relative falsehood, exactly like the lives of his friends and acquaintances; and another life running its course in secret." I think that most people can relate to this concept of the open self and closed self, and it is especially true for people like Dmtri who want to portray a different type of person to the world than the truly are on the inside.  Again, the way that Chekov describes this concept of the open and closed self is done with beautiful, clear diction.  I hope to find ways to incorporate some of Chekov's great vocabulary and his genius way of sentence structure in my own writing.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Reflecting Upon Kenan Trebincevic's Reading - April 6th, 2015

Tonight, I went to see Kenan Trebincevic speak about his new memoir, "The Bosnian List," in Chapman's Henley Reading Room.  I didn't know much about the book or anything about Trebincevic's life, so it was interesting to hear him speak about his story. The reading began with an introduction by Tom Zoellner, who happens to be my Creative Nonfiction professor this semester. He gave a brief synopsis of Trebincevic's life, and then Trebincevic took the stand to speak about his life and why he chose to write this memoir.

Trebencevic was born in and lived in Bosnia in the 1990s. When he was 12, his Karate coach (he was very into Martial Arts), showed up at his door with an AK-47 gun and told him and his family that they had one hour to leave the country or they would be killed. So, he and his family immigrated to Westport, CT, speaking no English and with only $300.  Trebencevic befriended a student in his class at school who showed him the ropes of the American education and he joined the school soccer team; he said that his classmates suspected he was so fast because he "was running from bullets in Bosnia." He became close with his soccer coach, the first coach he had befriended since his Karate coach.

Now, Trebencevic works in Queens, NY as a physical therapist. One of his patients, an English teacher, told Trebencevic that she has her students write three pages about the most humiliating event that has happened in their lives as a writing exercise. Trebencevic was intrigued by this, and he wrote the three pages, which eventually turned into a New York Magazine article, and later became fleshed out into this memoir (his patient helped him write it!)  After the New York Magazine article was published, he wrote a list of 12 people that he wanted to confront, and he eventually looked into several of these people's lives.  He learned that his Karate coach took captives to a concentration camp nearby, but he was too young (12 years old) to have been a part of a concentration camp. He also passed away.

Trebencevic said, "In my memoir, I hold a lot of grudges - but I have a right to." He repeatedly talked about how angry he was and how much anger was in the pages he wrote; he even seemed angry when he spoke.  Though, he did admit that he didn't feel like a hero and thought that "no would care about my story" when he published it. He knew that there were people who had gone through worse situations than he had.  However, both his mom and his brother told him how proud they were for writing their family's story, and he dedicated his memoir to his mother.  She had always encouraged him to read.

It was very interesting to learn about Trebencevic's life and his memoir sounds very compelling. I wished he had read an excerpt from it, maybe just even the first chapter, so I could get a sense for his writing style.  Since I've been learning how to write creative nonfiction this semester, I'm interested in exploring the genre more.  Maybe in the near future, I will read his book.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Response to "Passion" by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala

The first thing I immediately noticed about this story is the large amount of telling that Jhabvala does.  I was never unclear what was happening or what a character was feeling, because there were always these lines of "telling" - for example, on page 3, "She stopped herself, for she realized she was saying he was not the sort of person one met." Honestly, I thought the story had a bit too much telling; I understand the notion that the author wants to have the reader know exactly what's happening, but this line in particular stuck out to me (as did several others) as unnecessary. It was clear from the exchange between Betsy and Manny, particularly Betsy's dialogue, why she stopped herself from continuing on with what she was saying.

While there were some instances of the story that bothered me with too much telling, some of it was justified and needed.  I liked the balance between action sequences or dialogue sequences with the telling of how Betsy felt after Manny got drunk that night in particular.  Immediately following their dialogue, there is a whole paragraph about how she felt towards herself for letting Manny get drunk; this paragraph was needed because otherwise, it wouldn't have been clear to me that she blamed herself for Manny getting drunk.  Personally, the majority of the time, when a person gets drunk, I don't blame myself for their actions - so this said a lot about Betsy's character.

Though, from pages 5-8, I was getting really tired of the amount of telling that was going on. I felt like I was reading a summary of a movie on IMDB; no action, no dialogue, just too much telling. I really struggled to get through these pages and to get to the end of the story. If this had been something that I was reading for pleasure rather than for a class assignment, I would have put it down.  I'm glad that I know my taste preferences when it comes to reading though, and that this story further provided me with the knowledge that I prefer action and dialogue in a story, otherwise, I'm just bored with too much summary.  Thankfully, the story picked up again towards the end with the strong dialogue between Manny, Har Gopal, Betsy, and Christine; to me, this was the most interesting part of the story because I finally got to see where all of the telling lines built up, ultimately in order to change the relationships between them.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Response to "The Man Who Invented The Calendar" by B.J. Novak

This story was hilarious and extremely creative.  I love when writers can kind of gawk at these societal constructs that we have in place and turn them into well-told stories.  Personally, I would probably never think to write about how a man would go about inventing the calendar (pretty sure I don't even know who invented the calendar...).  But the concept of time has always been of particular interest to me, so I really enjoy how Novak played with it in this story.

I was laughing out loud by the time I got to the end of the piece, where our narrator claimed there were going to be several more months after December.  I also loved that our narrator explained the origin of several holidays such as Valentine's Day and April Fool's day and that they were based on events that were happening to him on those particular days--so for Valentine's Day, he was on a date with a woman and she appeared to be the one to create the meaning behind that particular day, and on April Fool's Day, everyone around him was cracking jokes and pranking each other.  I also love that the narrator was thinking about creating the clock in addition to the calendar; this is another example of Novak playing with the concept of time.

I've read a few stories that are written in this type of format - starting with a date, followed by a series of chronological events, like diary entries.  I think these kind of stories are either a hit or miss with readers, and I happen to really enjoy them.  Again, they play with the concept of time in a sense that you always know how much time or how little time has passed based on what day the events took place, and I think it makes for a unique type of storytelling that is actually easier to follow. Often times when I read stories, I'm not sure how much time has passed or what season it's taking place in, and this unsureness can be removed when using this technique.

Overall, I found the story enjoyable. I do have a couple of questions: what is the narrator referring to when he explains that Jane is sacrificed to the Sun God? And what is the deal with the poisonous berries?

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Dialogue Prompt: "Let Her In" using characters from "Samantha"

Let Her In

“Sam, you have to tell her.”
“No, no, I really don’t.”
“This has gone on long enough and I can’t take it anymore.”
I don’t know what your problem is.  I have a job, I clean up after myself, and I stay out of your way.”
“You’ve been living in my apartment for six months!”
“Yeah… so?”
“So… you haven’t given me a single cent! And Mom has no idea you’re in New York.”
“Whatever, Thomas.  I’m your sister.  I didn’t think I needed to give you anything or that you’d care whether or not Mom knew I was here.”
“I mean, sure, in the beginning… When I thought you were only going to be staying with me for a month, two tops…”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Okay, forget about the money for a second.  You need to tell Mom the truth!”
“No.”
“Sam, she’s our mom.  She’s not going to say ‘I told you so.’ She’s going to be thrilled that you’re home and that we’ve reconnected.”
“No, she’s going to say ‘I told you you’d fail as an actress in LA and come crawling back.’  Then she’ll go into some rant about how dad should have never paid for all my acting classes, blah blah blah…”
“You gotta give her more credit than that.”
“Coming from the child she always favored.”
“You’re so full of it, Sam.  Just give her a chance.”
“How do I even begin to tell her?”
“You could say something like ‘Hey, mom. Just wanted to let you know I’ve been living at Thomas’s for the past six months. LA just wasn’t for me, but you’ll be happy to know I’ve gotten a job for myself and am getting back on my feet.  Would you like to have dinner with both of us this week?’”
“I could probably get through two words of that.”
“So write it down first.”
“Alright, fine. But can you give me like, ten minutes to get my shit together?”
“Ok, just promise me you’ll call her.”
“Thomas, I’m not ten years old.  I’m gonna call her, Jesus Christ.”
“I didn’t say you were, though you do act like it sometimes…”
“Thomas!”
“Here, use my phone.  Her number’s programmed in.”
“Come back and bother me in ten minutes.”
*
“Sorry, I stepped out to get a sandwich.  Did you call her?”

            “Yes.”
            “And?”
            “We talked for like twenty minutes.  It was alright.”
            “See? I told you.  All that drama for nothing.”
            “She wants to come over for dinner tonight.”
            “Did you tell her that’s fine with me?”
             “Yeah... I assumed it was.  She said she’s coming over in an hour.”
            “Fine by me.  Perfect excuse to break out the Pinot Grigio.”
            “Well, I guess I’d better change into something decent.”
            “While you’re at it, how about we talk about a monthly rent?”

            “Oh, fuck off, Thomas.”