Fans of our own work discussion

This is the section where we write a story as a group. The first person writes a little, then the next, then the next, and so on...Like this:

First: I love chocolate! I've had such an addiction since I was a little girl.
Second: This has cost me a lot in life. Like one, my eating habits.

Okay? I'll start.

I so do not like the look of him. What did I do to deserve this? He's so mean! Why can't he go away?

He's been there since the first day of kindergarden. I've hated him since the first day of kindergarden too.

He stole my toy! He took it, right from my hand! I told the teacher, but what did she say, "awe, how cute! Making friends already?" Since then I haven't really like me teachers. I'm in 9th grade now, and guess what? I don't like but one of my teachers.

He's there. I am looking at him, despising him. Why couldn't he just leave or something?

He keeps looking over and smiling at me. His evil, stupid, ugly, disrepectful -- Crap! I've ripped my paper! And here comes the teacher! So much for lucky rabbit foot!

Mr. Dowlinson. Ahh...so much I could say about him. But I'll make it short. Stuffy, rude, arrogant, fat...and he's my evil lit. teacher. If only I could get a good teacher for lit.

"Mrs. Lingal what do you have there?"

I looked at my wripped paper:

I walked along the road. My pulse beat in my heart raced in my chest. I screamed as I turned the corner. Him, again. I can't stand being him!

I had been venting about my problems with Alex. The evil, rude, mean...I wasn't actually planning to show anyone.

"Ah, a note is it? Shall we read it to the class?"

I quickly read over what I wrote again. Deciding it is innocent enough to an outsider, I glance at Mr. Dowlinson and say, "Sure. I was thinking of using it to start a story."

By now I'm lying through my teeth. "I've been working on it for a while, but the beginning sucked, so I was fixing it." Thinking about my story and what I have just written, I realize that maybe it would make a better beginning than what I have. It looks like my lie might become a truth.g

"Well then, if it's for you story, then why don't you read it to the class yourself?"

I gulp. Maybe this isn't working out so well. I am absolutly terrified of presenting anything at all to a group of people any size. I know that my teacher is serious though, so I take a deep breath and start to say the first word.

"If I ever see his face again..." I felt my throat dry up and nervous sweat start to trickle down my neck.

Okay I know this sounds lame, but I fainted. Yes, I did. He looked right at me, and I fainted. I swear he's going to get it.

Mr. Dowlinson didn't have to wait long for me to come back into reality. I don't pass out for very long. They told me I was out for about two minutes. He offered to get me to the nurse. Lucky me.

I tried to insist that I could get there by myself, by Mr. Dowlinson wouldn't let me. He thought I might faint again. So I was forced to be escorted to the nurse by him, Alex Thatcher.

It wasn't that bad though, until I stumbled on somebody's book that had been left smack dab in the middle of the hallway. He grabbed my elbow to support me, and he wouldn't let go because he thought that I had stumbled beacause of my recent fainting episode.

I tried to pull my elbow away from him, but he held on tight. Then I did something stupid: I glared at him. He saw the venom in my eyes clearly, and looked shocked. "Geez," he said, "Sorry. Are you mad at me or something?"

Clearly I was, but he didn't need to know that.

"Umm...no, sorry. Just annoyed that you won't let me do things on my own."

He gave me a funny look, but said no more on the subject.

It was then that I considered him. Had he changed at all? Was I so obsessed by how he had been in my earlier years that I was blind to him now? As soon as these thoughts flashed through my mind, I shrugged it away. Alex was Alex. And I hated him.

Still looking at me strangely, he led me to the nurser's office. I couldn't help noticing that he wasn't actually as ugly as I thought from up close, but I shrugged it away. He opened the door for me, and I glared at him before storming in.

I saw a quick flash of his face before the door slammed shut. Hurt, confusion...Am I really that bad as to never forgive him? Why can't I let go? I was just that one time...But once is enough. He did it, there's no going back.

"What's wrong?" The nurse flashed her best fake smile at me. I didn't say anything.

Stepping inside, still looking a bit hurt, Alex decided that he needed to take control. "Lianna fainted in English class today," he informed.

The nurse widened her eyes. "Oh, dear!" She gasped, and I sighed. Could we get past all the dramatics, please?

"It's no big deal," I muttered. "I'm fine. Can I just go back to class now?"

"Oh, but of course not!" The nurse tisked. "You must go home, if you fainted!"

I was about to protest when suddenly the idea appealed to me. I would love to go home and miss the rest of school. Especially since I wouldn't have to be around him.

"Yes- please let me go home," I pretended to speak weakly, my voice faint. I made an act of sinking to the chair and breathing heavily. It was pretty cheesy in my opinion, but the nurser, of course, fell for it.

"Hold in there, honey, while I call your parents," she buttered me up.

"Call my dad's house," I told her. "My mom is out of town."

The nurse nodded and picked up the phone. I shot a glance at Alex. He was frowning and looking at me suspiciously. Was he not fooled by my act?

Whatever. Maybe he's just smarter than I gave him credit for.

I sighed and thought about how everything with Alex had happened.

He was, as I had already been thinking about today, mean to me from the start. He was always taking my stuff and teasing me, all through elementary school. As we got older though, it wasn't so bad. He got a little bit less obnoxious every year. By the end of 7th grade, I was almost ready to forgive him. He had been leaving me alone all year.

Throughout the summer, I saw him a decent amount; our town is very small and there aren't many places to hang out. After a while he began to occasionally talk to me even. By the end of the summer, I was head over heals for him. That was probably the biggest mistake of my life.

Oh my gawd, he actually asked me to the prom. What am I going to do?!? I can't go with him. That would just be wrong. I can't let him know that my heart flutters every time he looks at me. He might get the wrong idea. What am I going to do?

I never thought there was anything to do. And now, i had always thought he'd forgotten all about it. Apparently not.

My friends have all tried to convince me that he's liked me for half of forever. I refused to believe it, refused to forget what he did to me.

They tell me that it was kindergarten, and i should forget all about it. Like that's so easy to do with a memory like mine. I can't forget a thing, even if i tried.

And besides, kindergarten is where you get all your first impressions from, and then again in middle school where you meet poeple you've never seen before in your life. i remember it well, Alex made absolutely sure i was miserable at the beginning, but started to lay off a bit after my friends had a stern talking to him.

They say a boy teases you when he likes you. To me, that makes no sense. If they tease you and act like they hate you, then you will distance yourself from them, and when they finally ask you out, you say no. When they ask why, your answer is simply, "Because you were mean to me,"

That's my see on it, anyway, and if you think about it, it kind of makes sense. My friends agree that they never learn.

I wondered if Alex will ever learn, but shoved the thought away. Of course he will never learn. He's stupid, and I hate him.

"Lianna?"

The voice broke into my reverie, and I snapped back to the present. Alex was standing over me, looking concerned again. I realized I must have completely blanked out.

"Oh...hi...I'm going home now," I squeaked out breathlessly.

I got up out of the chair I was sitting in, and turned to the door. "Thanks," I said over my shoulder to the nurse. Not really sure why I said that.

Once I was out in the hallway, I could still feel Alex following me nervously. I whirled around to face him. "Do you want something?"

"Uh... no," he answered quickly. But I could tell he was lying.

Boys. Why can't they just say when something is bothering them?

"Just shoot," I groaned. Alex could see my annoyance, and maybe that's why he listened to me.

"Well..I was wondering...that is, I want to ask..." He took a deep breath, as if composing himself. "Do you think you could..."

"Damn it, Alex, just spit it out!" I grumbled, exasperated.

A flush suffused Alex's face; a red tinge creeping up out of the collar of that hideous shirt he was wearing. He stammered and stuttered and finally said, "um, uh, uh, willyougotothepromwithme." Yes, just like that, no spacing, no breath, all one word.

I just stood there and stared at him. He turned to walk away.

"Hey, wait..." I blurted.

He turned around again. "Uh... uh... Sorry. I shouldn't have... I mean, I didn't mean to..."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Alex. It's okay." (Actually, I wasn't really sure if it was okay, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings... yet.) "Look. I'll think about it, okay?"

Alex looked like he wanted to protest, but then he just nodded. "Sure. Thanks." And then he was gone.

I left the school grounds and started walking home, my mind buzzing. What was I supposed to say to him? I would rather die than go to the prom with him. But how could I say no without hurting his feelings? Wait a second. Why did I even care if I hurt his feelings? He'd hurt mine so many times before.

I was suddenly angry. I can't believe he had the nerve, after what he did to me. And in the same context as the first time he asked me to a dance!

It was two years ago. At the time, I was insanely jealous of any girl that he ever flirted with, or even talked to for that matter. He was following me toward the exit of the school form the office where I had been sick, and he said it the exact same way, all in a rush of words. His question completely made up for how my body felt at the time, and I said yes.

At the dance, we, well, danced. But then during a brake from dancing when we had wandered outside, he kissed me.

After that, we were an item. It went on for a little over a year. But then I caught him cheating. I, devistated, broke up with him. A week after that, I found out that he never even liked me, and the whole thing was a ploy between him and his friends to make me look stupid. Nearly the whole time we were dating, he was going out with some girl or another behind my back.

And right then, as I went over these painful memories in my mind, I knew the answer. I would never go to another dance with him as long as I lived. He would do the same thing. I didn't care if I hurt his feelings. Why should that matter? No. The answer to his question was NO.

As I felt my anger start to bubble up, I realized I had reached my house. I took the key from under the doormat, and unlocking the door, I slammed it behind me and stormed into the house.

"Lianna? Is that you?" I heard my mom call from the kitchen.

"No, it's not," I said sarcastically.

I hurried up to my room, to avoid more confrontation with my mother. She has the weirdest sense of humor, I'll tell you. She even calls herself crazy. I admire her honesty.

Anyway, when i got upstairs, i slammed the door shut to my room and froze. My little sister, who's two and a half, she never lets people forget the half, was sitting at the foot of my bed with scissors in her hands, cutting up my favorite shirt.

"AAAARGH!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!!"

I stomped across the room and snatched the scissors from Amy's hand, and in one motion threw them behind me where they thudded into the wall beside the door, embedding themselves nearly to the hilt with the savageness of their flight.

I stared at the scissors in shock. By this time my sister fled from the room, and i was left with nothing but a torn up piece of fabric at my feet.

I stared at the scissors some more. Was i really that mad? I could always go to Kohl's or something and get a new one, or go to Grandma's house and ask her to fix it.

I realized that i was still furious at Alex, and was taking it out on my little sister. The guilt was catching up with me.

And then i heard a furious "LIANNA MARIE!!!"

Oh-oh. Mom made her entrance with her hands on her hips, a furious expression on her face that matched her voice.

"What is it, mom?" I sighed.

"What did you do to Amy? And why are the scissors broken?"

"Mom," I rolled my eyes, "I didn't do anything to Amy. I came into my room to find her cutting up my favorite shirt, so I threw the scissors out of her hands."

Mom pursued her lips. "You're buying the new scissors." She didn't say anything about the loss of my favorite shirt, which I found totally unfair. She always favored Amy.

"Oh and by the way, honey, the nurse called to tell me that you fainted in English class today, and that's why you're home early. So you should go lie down and take it easy."

I groaned. "M-om, I'm fine!"

Mom gave me a stern look. "That was an order. Go lie down, or you're grounded." Then she left the room, an arm held protectively over Amy's shoulder.

I told you my mom's crazy. I can't believe that she always finds faults with my truths, but has no problem with Amy's lies.

But now at least i had time to think...

I knew what I had to do. I didn't care how much I hurt him. I actually felt like I wanted to hurt him all the more. I sat down at my desk and picked up the phone, dialing the number that my mind had unfortunately memorized.

"Hello? Who is it?"

"Hello, Alex," I said in the snobbiest voice I could muster. "I just want to say that I would never go to a dance with you. That's all. The answer's NO." Then I hung up.

I chuckled to myself. The only regret I had was not seeing his face as I said that. I'm sure it would have been priceless.

A few seconds alone with my thoughts passed. Then the phone rang. I grabbed it before anyone else in the house could, and instant reflex. I immediately regretted not even waiting for the caller ID to appear.

"Lianna?"

It was him.

"What do you want?" I snapped, forgetting my cool, snobby act before. I instantly regretted this, and tried to make my voice fake again. "I mean, why are you calling me now?"

"Listen...I...I wanted to apologize for asking you to the dance."

What? The nerve of him! "I don't accept apologies," I tried to sound cocky, but my voice cracked.

so many thoughts flew through my mind at that moment. Which time was he apologizing for? why was he apologizing now? and was i going too hard on him? and why did i care?

or words nothing like that, but which mean the same thing

"Oh...nevermind then," Alex replied, tearing me away from my thoughts, and this time he was the one to hang up.

I had to think fast. i really wanted to know why he was calling me back.

i sighed, because i knew i would regret this later. "Why are you so persistent, Alex?" I tried to get in before he hung up.

he stopped, caught off guard. "What do you mean?" he gasped. I thought he'd hung up already.

i really didn't want to explain this, but felt that i had to. Here goes, i thought. I knew i would regret saying that.

"Look..." I began, then I stopped. "You know what? I can't do this right now." And then I hung up the phone. On him. I'm going to regret that tomorrow, when I have to face him.

It's bad enough that I hung up on him the first time. But twice? Man, I don't want to go to school tomorrow.

i buried my face in my hands, and went back up to my room, scene of the violent scissors incident, how long ago? it's hard to believe that it was a few minutes ago...

I sighed and picked up the mutilated shirt. I held it up in front of me.

Looking at it again made me realize that it wasn't that bad. It was still in one piece, filled with a bunch of holes. Suddenly getting an idea, I slipped on the shirt over the white tank top I was wearing, and looked at myself in the mirror.

It actually looked good. I decided I could even wear it the next day, and then when when I talked to Alex...

I stopped there. What was I thinking?

I decided to stop thinking. I shouldn't be thinking. But the thoughts just came on their own.

Why was I trying to impress Alex? Why did I care? I should be trying to think of more ways to hurt him. But I couldn't bring myself to that. I wasn't a monster.

But i was holding a grudge. I realized that was unhealthy, but i couldn't help it; what he did is unforgiveable! so why does he keep trying to get me to forgive him? Did he change? Is that even possible? No, I decided, it was Alex. But was i ready to forgive him? i had to ponder that for a while. I just couldn't decide.

Too bad the world hates me. If it didn't I wouldn't be in this pickle. He and I would be best friends. If it wasn't for that day...

(Hey guys. I was wondering. Do you want me to, like Veronica did in Writing Passionates, put this story on my profile for others to view who aren't in the group?)

yes!!!! that would be amazing!!!