Hidden between rocks and sunshine, whatever!


"Something between the rocks glinted in the morning sunshine."

For real, this is how the year is gonna start? This is stupid. Who cares about rocks and sunshine?

Candace rolls her eyes and stuffs the photocopied poem into a folder. She looks around the room for a distraction. She hates English and poetry sucks even more.

She says damn, under her breath when she spots a new face. He is fine. Instinctively, she reaches for her lip gloss and makes a mental note to make sure she's wearing a hot pushup bra tomorrow.

At lunch I tell her the boy's name is Rob. He's in my American History class.

“Who name's their child Rob?”

“For real, Candace? What difference does it make what his name is? He's fine.”

She doesn't argue. He skin is creamy and he has hazel eyes. She can't figure why she thinks the white boy (her words not mine) is cute. Candace likes black boys but whatever. Besides, she says she can tell he's mixed. His mother is probably white.

 Mr. Hicks is cuter.

“Candace, are you listening to me?”

Of course I'm not listening. Shavi is talking about her hot Geometry teacher. The girl is wacked like that. First of all, she actually likes math and every year since sixth grade she has a crush on some stupid teacher.

“Girl, yeah.”

We're sitting at our usual spot in the lunchroom when Rob walks in. He's kind of lanky, but his shoulders are broad and he has big feet. Candance smiles. She believes what they say about boys with big feet.

“Shavi, look.”

Shavi is so freakin' obvious. Geek turns her entire head in the direction of Rob, watching him drop his backpack on the chair at a table across the lunchroom.

“Can you be anymore obvious, Shavi?!”

“What?”

“Forget it. Let's get in line.”

“We already have our food.”

“Dummy, get up.”

We fall in line. We're a few kids behind Rob. Candance wants to check out the goodie up close and personal.

“Tomorrow, come by early. I want you to flat iron my hair.”

“Really, Candace? We just started school and you're already stalking your new boy.”

“Are you gonna come by?”

“Yeah.”

I hope Rob's not like Shavi. I don't wanna pretend I like poetry and shit.


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Comments

  1. laffin because you DO love poetry and shit. Ah, but these are characters. They do what they want!

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  2. Gurl, just stepped inside that dangerous zone called my daughter's head. lol

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  3. This feels like an overheard conversation- great job!

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  4. ha. how can you not like poetry? smiles
    always trying to be something else to appeal you know...
    that seems the essence of HS

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  5. I love this LaTonya! Awesome dialogue between the two girls, and the inner dialogue is fantastic. I was a little lost at the first switch, but once I figured it out, I really enjoyed the rhythm of their back and forth.

    And hey, welcome to the Speakeasy! Thanks for linking up!

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  6. Welcome to the speakeasy LaTonya! Clever use of the sentence prompt and bravo on the teenage dialog. Hope to see more of you in our little gin joint!

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    1. PS We promote the speakeasy posts on twitter so sign on up if you want us to copy you on the tweets!

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  7. I love the voice here, the diction is "teen" and I agree with a previous commenter that itvis like an overheard conversation; a neat way to have it be. The last sentence made me giggle; as a former high school teacher, I can really hear a child saying that.

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    1. Hi Opinion, I work with teens for a few years and I have one. I did my best. Glad to hear I got the voice right. My kidlet always calls me old and I worried most about the vocabulary. If you read the comments you know I LOVE poetry.

      Thank you all for reading and commenting. Worked day job and part-time gig yesterday so I couldn't respond until now.

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  8. LOVE this. the dialogue between the two, the internal dialogue, the voice--everything.

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  9. Very creative use of the first line (and dialogue, too!) Glad to meet up with you on both sides of things here at yeah write!

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  10. Like the ease of dialogue in this! Very natural.

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