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I'm currently writing
I'm currently writing a story, and I would like to post it here. Unfortunately, on the first thread I made about it, someone impersonated me and told the Admins to delete it. So I'm going to repost everything.
I'm too salty to rewrite the whole original introduction, but I would like to point out that many of the main characters in this are LGBTQ+. If that was the reason whoever the impersonater was told the Admins under my name to take it down, then I cannot say how awful that is.
Please don't do it again. To me or to anyone. It feels super, super, super bad. It feels like you're being taken advantage of. Like you're not being regarded as a person.
If you don't like this story, don't read it. That doesn't mean you should steal someone's identity and demand for someone else's hard work be deleted.
Thanks. Here's part one again.
-----
It was one of those things that he never expected to change.
Suddenly it did, and it felt so right that he didn’t question it. And it changed again and again, but he scarcely noticed that everything was different because he was all caught up in the swirl and excitement and joy of living.
Then one day, he was hanging upside down from a branch on that big tree in the backyard that Liza joked would never stop growing and one day swallow up the house and all of Los Angeles. He was holding his phone (tightly, lest he drop it) and laughing as he typed out a text to Jack and Adri and Theo, when he realized that, indeed, he and his life had become very, very, different since the day three years ago that cute, red-haired, freckle-faced boy had come up behind him after Math and asked if he could draw him.
“You want to know if you can… what?” Alex blinked, bewildered, at his questioner.
“Draw you. Oh, sorry—” The boy said sheepishly. “That was weird, wasn’t it? I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you’re really interesting.”
Alex was at a loss for words, which he thought with a kind of amused awe. Alex Quinn, he had been told and acknowledged himself, was very difficult to shut up.
“No! No! Ugh, human interaction is hard, gosh, I’m sorry— Can we start over?” Flustered, the boy ran a hand through his long auburn curls, the other pulling nervously at the edge of his too-large “Black Lives Matter” t-shirt.
Alex grinned. “Sure. I’m Alex Quinn. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Jack.”
They shook hands. Jack’s palms were soft, and even they were covered in freckles, like someone had dumped cinnamon sugar on him.
Alex gathered his binders and notebooks, carefully stacking them in size order. It was a habit, he supposed, but he wasn’t sure where it had come from— Only that it made him uneasy to have it any other way. It was just one of those things.
“So, why did you want to draw me?”
Jack’s hands started fidgeting, fingers tapping his sides in some sort of rhythm. “I’m an artist, I guess, and I’m best at drawing people, and you seem like… I don’t know.” He paused. “You’re really alive, you know.”
Alex paused at his locker, dumping his supplies in it and kicking the blue metal door shut. After considering a moment, he replied, “I’ve been told it’s really hard to get me to stop talking and moving. Or doing anything I want to be doing, really.”
Jack opened his mouth, seemingly struggling with deciding whether or not to elaborate on that, for a moment before closing his mouth and saying, “That’s kind of what I mean.”
Alex could tell that it wasn’t all that Jack had to say, but he left it be.
They walked in silence for a bit, and Jack glanced over at Alex, trying to commit his appearance to memory, all of his expressive hazel eyes and baggy blue sweatshirt and scuffed up converse and easy posture, the way his mouth upturned slightly as if preparing to say something, and that when he did you’d gosh darn better listen.
“Are you new here?” Jack said finally.
“Yeah,” Alex said as they neared the dark oak double doors that led to the dining hall. “This is my first year at this place. I moved during the summer.”
“From where?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Alex replied, a little too quickly.
Jack also took note of the way Alex bit his lip and ducked his head so his dark brown hair fell into his eyes when he said this, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Catch you later, okay? I have work to do.”
“Okay.” Jack said, and Alex had turned and walked away, hurrying out of the cafe and towards the direction of the library.
Lunch was quiet. Jack sat at a corner table by himself, just like usual, and took out his sketchbook to draw, just like usual. He would sketch people, just glance around and pick the first person his eyes fell on, but this time he drew Alex.
In the first attempt, he penciled out the boy’s profile, trying to capture the peaceable line of his jaw and the way his hair hung down the side of his face, tucked behind his ears. He stopped to analyze it. It wasn’t a bad drawing, but it wasn’t... Alex.
Half an hour and four abandoned doodles of Alex later, he slammed his book shut in a fit of rare frustration. There was something about the guy that he couldn’t quite ensnare, something deep and quiet and real and ragingly beautiful.
Jack was determined to find it.
Keep writing, Abi! We're excited to see the rest. To the impersonator, we do not tolerate that type of behavior. ~Admin
submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 22, 2016 - 12:21 pm)
(December 22, 2016 - 12:21 pm)
Thanks for sticking with me through my insconsistant posting... Y'all are awesome <3 T
--
“Can you explain this bit to me, again?” Adri asked Jack and Alex, frowning at her schedule. It was the five-minute space between sixth and seventh period, and the trio was standing by Jack’s locker as he fiddled with the knob, trying in vain to get it to open.
“Seventh is always electives,” Jack said. “In the beginning of each semester everyone fills out this online form thing for what classes you want. There are, like, a bazillion different ones.”
Alex added, “You’re even allowed to form your own if you get permission from a teacher to use their room and fill out a bunch paperwork and stuff. Budgets, equipment use, supervision policy. All that jazz.”
“Something tells me you’re considering it,” Jack quirked an eyebrow at Alex, who simply shrugged.
“Nah, I just like knowing how stuff works.”
“But I didn’t take a survey,” Adrianne said.
Jack’s locker finally swung open. “Aha!” He began rummaging through it. “My guess is they just placed you in random ones to start off with. You can probably change them later, but just go to the one on your schedule for now.”
Alex leaned over Adri’s shoulder to peer at the paper she was holding. “See, today you’re in Sculpture & Modeling. North Studio. That’s in the upper building, second floor.”
“What do you have?” Adrianne asked hopefully.
Jack tumbled out from his locker, clutching his sketchbook and a rectangular tin box with a blue square of paper taped on the lid that read: Jack’s art stuff. Do not touch! (This means you, Moriah!)
“Art Culture,” Jack said. “Right now we’re doing watercolors, which I’m not so good at.” He made a face. “Can’t wait until the sketching unit.”
Alex pumped his fist. “Debate club!”
Jack shoulder-bumped him. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Aw, you know me,” Alex smiled, and Jack ruffled his hair.
To be honest, Adri hadn’t believed Jack when he told her that the two had only been friends for less than a week. They fit together right, had a kind of easy chemistry— both seemed more relaxed when they were together, small grins and one-armed hugs and sideways teasing.
“I’ve gotta blast, though, Peterson’ll have my head if I wander in late one more time,” Jack said. “... And I have two minutes to get across campus. Wish me luck!”
Alex laughed and turned to Adri. “I need to get going too. Think you can find the classroom okay?”
“J’irai bien,” Adrianne insisted.
“Coolio,” Alex shot her a thumbs up and started on his way.
(January 5, 2017 - 10:00 pm)
Oooh! I love it! As soon as I saw you posted I came STRAIGHT over here to read it. It's amazing!
(January 5, 2017 - 10:14 pm)
Yay, Abi! Yay, story! Yay, Alex and Jack and Adri! Yay, getthisthreadtothetop!
(January 8, 2017 - 7:54 am)
I've only just started reading your story (I don't get that much screen time at once, so I tend to focus on RPs and Kyngdom) but I love it! The story is so cute, and I feel like I'm really connecting with the characters. You have few spelling errors, great descriptions, and just an amazing way of creating the story. I think maybe you should get this published. It might be a bit hard getting people to publish it, but it would definitely sell. I would buy it :)
(January 8, 2017 - 2:34 pm)
(January 8, 2017 - 1:25 pm)
Adri mentally recited Alex’s directions from earlier— North Studio, Upper Building, second floor. She knew where the upper building was, the big blue one that was mostly reserved for high schoolers. Start there.
Running across campus, she reached the structure fairly quickly, darting up the stairs that wound around its outside, daring to shoot a glance at her watch.
One minute. Shoot.
This edifice was… harder… than the middle school building, straighter lines and dark grey carpeting. The school in itself certainly wasn’t an imposing environment, but here Adri found herself straightening her back and slowing her pace to a brisk walk.
She knew immediately when she had found the correct room, mostly because of the large bulletin board right to it, with colorful 3D letters attached to it, spelling out, “Welcome to Studio North!” A large, hot-pink arrow was stuck on the door, right under the knob, and in it, someone had written in a lilting, round, scrawl: “What are you waiting for? Go on in!”
The characters looked handmade, all different shades, patterns, and fonts. The ‘W’ was cursive, large and swoopy, the ‘s’ curveless and giving off a futuristic sort of feel, and upon close inspection the ‘o’ in North was rather lopsided. Adri liked them. Among the darker, serious tones of the rest of the hallway, Studio North emanated warmth and welcome.
Adri pushed open the door.
Inside, students sat around black, paint-splattered square tables, talking and tossing around quips. A young man with ruffled black hair, square tortoiseshell glasses, and a paint brush between his teeth sat on a stool in the front of the room, shuffling through a stack of papers. He wore an apron, which was also covered in paint. Its original color was scarcely recognizable.
Nobody paid much attention when Adrianne entered. A few people glanced up, offered polite smiles, then went back to their conversations.
Adri stood by the doorway a moment to get her bearings.
“Hey!” Someone yelled. “Frenchy!”
Turning towards the voice (great, “Frenchy?”), she saw it was Theo, the girl she had run into on the way to the office earlier, who was waving and patting the chair next to her. “Come sit!”
Adrianne made her way over— with slight difficulty, why were the tables placed in such inconvenient positions? — and, cautiously, sat. The seat was black plastic, a little wobbly-legged, and, like almost everything else in Studio North, splashed with paint.
“So, Frenchy,” Theo began.
“My name is Adrianne,” Adri said sharply.
“Frenchy. What brings you to this lovely class-above-all-classes?”
“They assigned me to random electives. I’ll probably change most of them later.”
“Ah. Well, this one’s fun.”
“Mm.”
There was a stiff silence.
The man at the front suddenly hit the whiteboard with a resounding thunk. The chatter faded to silence as he stood up and removed the paintbrush from his mouth.
“Hey, guys!”
“That’s Mr Bennet, but he lets his students call him by his first name. Cameron,” Theo muttered into Adri’s ear. “He’s cool. Pretty chill. Makes a lot of art puns.”
(January 8, 2017 - 2:52 pm)
(January 13, 2017 - 1:58 pm)
@Embers in the Ashes: I really appreciate it! It'd be a dream come true to get published, but first I have to actually write the story. Heh.
----
“As you may know, this is a day of beginnings!” Cameron said with a flourish of his paintbrush. “We are starting new projects, all of which will be featured in the school wide art show in January.”
He paused, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace slightly in the small rectangle of floor framed by the back wall, his desk, and the student tables.
“The theme of the show is nature, which we are required to incorporate. Paintings, sketches, and similar would be better suited to Art Culture, as this is a modeling class.”
A red-headed seventh grader called out, “No, really!”
“Otherwise there are very few constraints. You may work on your own, with a partner or a group, but you must get your concept approved by me before beginning. Also, you may not use the bandsaw without supervision.”
This last statement was accompanied by a pointed glance at Theo, who grinned and shot Cameron a thumbs up. “You can trust me, man!”
“Thank you, and get to work!”
“So,” Jack said at lunch the next day as he, Alex, and Adri were walking across campus to the library. “Halloween is in about two weeks, and—”
“Seventeen days, to be exact,” Adri cut in, grinning at Jack’s resigned eyeroll.
“Do you celebrate it in France?” He asked.
She shrugged. “It is not an official holiday. Some people do, some don’t. I did not so very much, but we have La Toussaint of the first of November, where we honor the dead. The basic idea is… sort of similar, but we visit family and bring flowers to cemeteries instead of getting sweets from strangers.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “That last bit sounded a little critical there. I’ll have you know Halloween in America is awesome.”
“That depends on perspective,” Alex said drily.
“What?” Jack said, clapping a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “Do you mean to say that you don’t like Halloween?”
“It’s not that I don't like it,” Alex amended with practiced nonchalance. “I’ve just never found it that great or memorable. Besides, candy is gross.”
“We are ending this friendship,” Jack said, shaking his head. Alex looked a little upset and confused for a moment before the taller boy laughed, a sound of loud, unabashed merriment, and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a sideways hug. “I’m kidding, Alex, kidding!”
“I knew that,” Alex said a little too quickly, trying not to sound embarrassed. Jack didn’t seem to notice, but Adri did, and she smirked slightly at him.
They lapsed into talking about other things, trivial things— Books and favorite colors and ugh, why did Ms DeLeon give so much homework?
(January 14, 2017 - 2:01 pm)
This is awesome, Abi! Keep it up!!
(January 21, 2017 - 7:04 pm)
I'm always so excited to read a new installment of your story! Keep writing!
(January 14, 2017 - 9:05 pm)
Don't die!!!!
(January 23, 2017 - 4:24 pm)
This is amazing! Please keep writing this because I am excited to see what happens next!
(January 26, 2017 - 11:32 am)
Alex ran into someone.
This probably wouldn’t have been consequential (it happened more than he’d care to admit), and he had just opened his mouth to deliver a practiced, polite apology, except for the fact that Jack’s eyes widened and he spoke before Alex could.
“Oh.”
The victim of Alex’s carelessness— A boy, their age, or maybe a bit younger, with dark hair and steely, confident, black eyes— stepped back, blinked twice, then repeated the sentiment. “Oh!”
There was a strangled silence in which Alex and Adri exchanged looks of matching confusion. Adri mouthed, What’s going on? and Alex half-shrugged back: I don’t have any more idea than you do.
Jack’s eyes dropped down to his shoes.
“So… “ Adri said, hesitantly drawing out the long ‘o’ sound. “What’s all… this?”
The boy grinned a little too widely for it to seem sincere and held out a hand. “My name is Benson.”
“Adrienne de Croix.”
Adri didn’t shake his hand and Benson kept it up for a few seconds after it became pretty apparent that she wasn’t going to. Alex stifled a snort and nudged Jack with his shoulder, and he glanced at him for a moment. He didn’t quite smile, but his eyes twitched up at the corners in the suppressed-amused way Alex had come to recognize before Jack looked away again.
Benson turned to Jack. “I’m back!” He said a little awkwardly.
At this point Alex’s friend finally raised his gaze and stuck his hands in his pockets, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “Joy,” Jack deadpanned sarcastically and Benson cringed.
“I deserve that.”
There was another pregnant pause, and Alex felt almost like laughing even though nothing was funny.
Suddenly Adri threw her hands up in the air and screamed, “MON DIEU!” so loudly that Alex almost fell over and Benson stumbled backward in surprise. Several passerby gave them weird looks.
“Vous êtes tous fous!” Adri grumbled, grabbing Alex and Jack by the elbows and storming off, dragging them behind her, muttering condescendingly in French.
A very startled Benson was left standing in the middle of the hallway.
“What was all that?” Jack said once she released them in front of the cafeteria doors.
“That’s what I should be asking you!” Adri huffed, flipping her blonde braids.
“Adri has a point,” Alex cut in. “I’m freaking confuzzled.”
“You know that really isn’t a word,” Jack said.
“How dare you—”
Adri cut them off with an exasperated groan, facepalming and leaning back onto the wall. “Jack, explain.”
Jack sighed, shoulders slumping over. His soulful green eyes gazed forlornly up at them through the few flyaway curls that had escaped from his haphazard ponytail and now hung around his face like a halo. He looked like a sad puppy, Alex thought.
“Look, it’s not even a big deal. Ben was my friend in elementary school. We’re… not friends anymore. He went off on this crazy foreign-exchange trip to Europe in sixth grade and
now he’s back.” He tried for a nonchalant shrug but instead ended up sort of collapsing in on himself, still not looking Alex or Adri in the eye.Alex patted his friend on the back. “Thanks for telling us,” he said awkwardly. “I… get what you’re saying. Friendships— don’t— I’m sorry—” The words weren’t coming out right, and it was a little frustrating. He knew exactly what he felt like saying to Jack, but somehow couldn’t form coherent sentences, everything all jumbled up in his brain. The clumsy phrases that fell from his mouth were decidedly poor substitutes.
Jack smiled tiredly at him. “It isn’t important.” He reached out and grabbed Alex’s hand, squeezing it once in a gesture of reassurance, and maybe it was just Alex who suddenly became hyper-aware of everything, Jack’s hands and his freckles and the warm, sweet, pressing of their palms. He found himself strangely disappointed when Jack let go.
(January 28, 2017 - 2:05 pm)
(January 29, 2017 - 12:54 pm)
(January 29, 2017 - 5:16 pm)