Another Story I'm Writing

Hey. I've been working on a realistic fiction story about a girl named Leila. I hope you'll all like it, if anyone is even still reading and hasn't just quit on me or whatever. Here's some of what I have so far.

Sometimes life's all right. It's not too nice out and not too cloudy, and at school the teachers and kids aren't mean or friendly, just sort of there, like the tiling on the floor. Sometimes it's a struggle to push my feet up the stairs to the second floor where my classrooms are, and kids giggle at me and teachers are boring or mean. Other times, the entire day is spread out in front of me, whole and perfect like a drop of water or a page just begging to be written on.

It's those days I like best, of course; when the sun is golden and the world looks like a brand-new 64-box of markers, the colors are so varied and bright. Those days, everyone in the halls looks at me and smiles, and i just can't help smiling back. Chris, Matt, Rachel, Alex, Meredith, they all grin and their eyes seem to say, "There goes Leila the cool, Leila the popular, Leila the pretty, Leila everybody-wants-to-be-her-friend, that Leila," and I feel like a little sun, a warm dot, is glowing inside me.

One day at lunch recess, Phoebe came up to me, smiling her funny little lopsided smile, the one where you can't tell if she really is happy or not.

"Hi," she said.

I couldn't say anything. Phoebe doesn't talk to me! She never has, so why was she doing it now?

Phoebe stood there and looked at me. I looked into those soft brown eyes of hers, and they seemed so shy and kind that I was finally able to say, "Hi," real soft.

"Um, I wondered if you...um...wanted to... comeplaydoubledutchwithHarperandme?" she said. The last words came in a rush, tumbling like an anxious waterfall. She sounded so flustered that I wondered sadly whether it was a bet - if I was such a reject the popular girls had begun to dare each other to talk to me.

Phoebe was waiting, itching, I could see, for my answer. My throat tried to squeak "No," my cheeks tried to burn, and my eyes tried to turn toward my shoes, but I stopped them all. I was tired of being shy. I did want to play double dutch with Phoebe and Harper. So I swallowed, gave her a small smile, and nodded.

So there you go. If you like it, leave a comment. If not, tough beans for me. I'll try to post more soon, really I will.