So, this is from my first complete draft of Phase (back in 2009). It has Sophie walking into the school on her first day of her senior year. I liked it, her thoughts as she got ready for the day and it gives you a lot of her personality, but it took too long to get into the meat of the story. Here, she has a friend named Nicole (changed later to Mary-Ann) because well, there was Nick Birch (don’t want too many similar names, it gets confusing). Connie and Nicole/Mary-Ann used to play bigger roles as well in the original. But the reason this saddened me to take out was simply because Sophie has one of her talkative moments in here and it cracked me up.
I locked my car and shut the door, looking up at the big brick building. My high school.
I slung my backpack on one shoulder and smoothed down my new shirt. Mom had picked it out, saying the blue would bring out my eyes. I was just glad it didn’t make me look fat. I didn’t need the extra help.
First day of senior year.
Mom and Dad had both left the house before me. Dad was a lawyer and Mom a teacher. Which meant I made my own breakfast. Both of them had said something like ‘Good luck. Wow, can’t believe it’s your senior year’ and so on and so forth. Like I needed reminding that after this year, it was all unknown.
But I had this year. This last year to make memorable.
I walked along the sidewalk that ran through the middle of the parking lot of Gregory High School.
I turned towards the voice and smiled as Connie came up to me.
“Hey, how was your summer?” she asked, running a hand along her hair.
“You got your hair cut,” I said, noticing how nice the layers framed her face. My boring brown hair went past my shoulders and usually curled whether I wanted it to or not.
“I did. Grown-up look now that we’re seniors. How was your summer? Mine was lame. I worked all summer at the diner on Main. It was hell, except one of the waiters was in from college. His name was Tristan…”
I grinned and listened as we walked into the school. I’d been going here since ninth grade, when I’d transferred from the junior high. My family moved to this little town in southeast Tennessee in the middle of my seventh grade year. I liked the South and I liked living near the Smoky Mountains. I met Connie when I started at the county high school. Connie talked a lot, like me and most of the time was pretty nice.
She paused in her monologue about Tristan the sexy college guy.
“My summer was actually really—“ I started.
“There’s Nicole!” she squealed and hurried over to the strawberry blonde. Nicole smiled and hugged her, looking past her and waved to me. I walked over to the two of them. Nicole gave me a hug.
“Hey Sophie, how was your summer?”
“Really good. We went to—“
“I have to tell you about the hot college guy who worked at the diner.” Connie interrupted excitedly.
“Tristan?” Nicole filled in. She must have been in town this summer too. “He was so hot.” They started towards the cafeteria where our schedules for the year would be, along with other pertinent information like locker numbers and which lunch we had.
I followed in their wake. “We went to South America actually. Joined a nudist colony. Danced on the beach in Brazil, naked as the day we were born. I met a man named Roberto. He’s my baby’s daddy.”
Neither Connie nor Nicole heard me.
I grinned at the people I passed, saying hello to a few. I knew quite a few names despite the fact our school was almost 2000 in number. A county school with not a lot of money, but I’d refused to go to the private girls school in Chattanooga, an hour away.
School with no boys? Sounded worse that just plain old high school.
“Come on, Sophie,” Nicole called back to me and I hurried to catch up. “So, your summer was good?”
I stifled a chuckle. “Yeah. I’m glad to be back though.” It was a sad truth, but I loved school. Even homework. I loved learning. I wasn’t a genius by any means. English was about the only subject I was really good at. But I got decent grades and read a lot.
Okay, so I was a nerd.
© ecnewman, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.