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cmk418Here is the second of my completed Bingo challenges for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words community.
These are mostly domestic moments for my 2015 (and 2016) NaNo project “On the Dotted Line” which is about a senior in high school lucky enough to have sex on his 18th birthday with his junior in high school girlfriend (who is 16) and the unfortunate consequences that follow. The story itself is written in first person, but some of the work here is in third person, so apologies for the vertigo.
Word count in parentheses after the prompt.
“I WANT MORE” (100)
Heather moved forward, pressing her lips against mine.
“Don’t you want me?” Heather asked.
What kind of question was that? I wanted her so much, but I couldn’t take more of this pattern she had of revving me up and then putting on the brakes.
“Today’s your birthday,” she said, fingers tracing the inside of my thigh. “I want to give you something you’ll remember for a long time.”
I seemed to forget how to breathe. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?
“Come upstairs with me, Billy. I’m ready now. I want more.”
Happy birthday to me.
BETRAYAL (100)
“Miss Chase has submitted her deposition.”
“And?”
“I recommend that William plead guilty and throw himself on the mercy of the court.”
The words hung in the air for a moment and then all hell broke loose.
“Slut!”
“Mom!”
“Billy, I told you those West Crenshaw girls were not to be trusted.”
“Mom, please. I would like to know what she said.”
As the public defender read through Heather’s testimony, I started to feel ill. She didn’t lie. Not exactly, but she didn’t tell the full truth either. I guess there were some things more important to her than me.
WARM BED/COLD DAY + BLANKET HOG (200)
“I want to stay home today,” said Simone. “Just lay here in bed and burrow under the covers with you. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”
“That sounds sensational,” Billy replied. “Why go out into the cold morning if you don’t have to?”
He thought about prison, how it was always cold. The thin throw and the sheet were barely enough to keep someone warm. He loved the comforter on Simone’s bed. He’d gone to the store with her to pick it up and he marveled at the variety of everything in the linen section. Nothing in faded grey or industrial white. But a bevy of colors and fabrics and textures. Some were soft, some were a little bit scratchy. He loved the feel of all of it.
Simone accused him of being a blanket hog, and he supposed he was. He couldn’t help it. There was a certain security that came to him when he lay under the blankets. He just wanted to roll up in them and surround himself in their warmth and protection.
He wrapped Simone in his arms. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend any day than under the covers with her.
READING HER DIARY (100)
This could possibly be the best thing or the worst thing that ever happened to us, the diary read.
Billy shifted uncomfortably. What secret did Simone have to keep from him? He looked down at the book again. Simone’s handwriting slanted across the page.
I don’t know if I should even tell Billy. I could handle this without him ever knowing. Or I could just leave. He doesn’t need to be saddled with this sort of thing.
Billy sighed and read on.
She won’t have a normal life.
She?
Simone was pregnant. He ran into the bathroom and threw up.
AMNESIA/HEALTH CRISIS (300)
“She’s running a fever,” said Simone.
“What do we do?” I asked. Somehow I felt like this was my fault. Maybe if we hadn’t gone on that walk the other day when it was drizzling out. But I had the umbrella over her stroller the whole time. I got a little wet- I didn’t mind- but, other than the first minute when I had to wrestle with the diaper bag to find the umbrella, she stayed dry. Could they take her away from me from doing something so stupid?
Maxine started to cry and I picked her up and started to bounce from one foot to the other. It usually calmed her down, but she was so restless. And her little body felt like a furnace.
“Call the pediatrician,” I said.
Simone shot me a look, then seemed to realize that I was a heartbeat away from a full-scale panic. She dialed the number and put the pediatrician on speakerphone. The doctor spoke to us in the manner of someone who had dealt with many first time parents. She gave instructions and then told us to bring Maxine in if the fever didn’t break.
I continued to rock Maxine in my arms, then softly started to sing the one song I knew by heart, “Oh when the Blues go marching in. Oh when the Blues go marching in. How I want to be in that number. When the Blues go marching in.” I sang to her until my voice felt hoarse. She rested her tiny head against my chest and closed her eyes. I sat down on the sofa and Simone sat next to me. She twined her fingers with mine as we both sat vigil.
“She’s gonna be all right,” Simone whispered.
“She’s our kid. Of course, she will.”
PHOBIA (100)
“Daddy, what are you ‘fraid of?”
“Lots of things. The dark. Drowning. Thunder.”
“What about monsters?”
“What about them?”
“Are you scared of monsters?”
“I think it depends on the monster. I think some monsters might be afraid of me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, pumpkin. If any monster tried to scare you or your mama, they’d better start running ‘cause I’d,” he curled his hands into a ball and squeezed, “grab them by the throat and squeeze really tightly so they would know not to mess with my girls.”
“And they’d never come bother us again.”
“Nope. Because they’d be scared to.”
SPA TREATMENT (100)
When Simone came home, Billy was sitting on the floor, painting Maxine’s fingernails. Maxine proclaimed, “Daddy and me are having a spa day.”
“Great.”
“Do you think Mommy would like her nails painted?” Billy asked.
Simone nodded.
“Maxine, you pick out a color.”
“Hold on just a minute,” Simone said. “When your mommy used to go to the…”
“Spa.”
“…spa, they would always let her pick out her own nail polish.”
“Which one would you pick?”
Simone pointed to a nail polish that was a color called Ravishing Red. “That one.”
“That’s the one I would’ve picked,” Maxine said proudly.
MAKING UP (100)
“Go ‘way!” Maxine shouted.
I decided to let her cool down. I walked into the kitchen where Simone was doing a crossword puzzle. She didn’t look up as she said, “If you can’t handle this at four, how are you going to handle it at fourteen?”
I sighed and then walked back down the hall to Maxine’s room. I didn’t bother to knock, just stood outside the door and asked, “Would you like to get ice cream?”
“Chocolate chip?”
“If you want.”
The door opened and Maxine stepped out. I hoped the same tactics would work when she was fourteen.
1_million_words community.These are mostly domestic moments for my 2015 (and 2016) NaNo project “On the Dotted Line” which is about a senior in high school lucky enough to have sex on his 18th birthday with his junior in high school girlfriend (who is 16) and the unfortunate consequences that follow. The story itself is written in first person, but some of the work here is in third person, so apologies for the vertigo.
Word count in parentheses after the prompt.
“I WANT MORE” (100)
Heather moved forward, pressing her lips against mine.
“Don’t you want me?” Heather asked.
What kind of question was that? I wanted her so much, but I couldn’t take more of this pattern she had of revving me up and then putting on the brakes.
“Today’s your birthday,” she said, fingers tracing the inside of my thigh. “I want to give you something you’ll remember for a long time.”
I seemed to forget how to breathe. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?
“Come upstairs with me, Billy. I’m ready now. I want more.”
Happy birthday to me.
BETRAYAL (100)
“Miss Chase has submitted her deposition.”
“And?”
“I recommend that William plead guilty and throw himself on the mercy of the court.”
The words hung in the air for a moment and then all hell broke loose.
“Slut!”
“Mom!”
“Billy, I told you those West Crenshaw girls were not to be trusted.”
“Mom, please. I would like to know what she said.”
As the public defender read through Heather’s testimony, I started to feel ill. She didn’t lie. Not exactly, but she didn’t tell the full truth either. I guess there were some things more important to her than me.
WARM BED/COLD DAY + BLANKET HOG (200)
“I want to stay home today,” said Simone. “Just lay here in bed and burrow under the covers with you. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”
“That sounds sensational,” Billy replied. “Why go out into the cold morning if you don’t have to?”
He thought about prison, how it was always cold. The thin throw and the sheet were barely enough to keep someone warm. He loved the comforter on Simone’s bed. He’d gone to the store with her to pick it up and he marveled at the variety of everything in the linen section. Nothing in faded grey or industrial white. But a bevy of colors and fabrics and textures. Some were soft, some were a little bit scratchy. He loved the feel of all of it.
Simone accused him of being a blanket hog, and he supposed he was. He couldn’t help it. There was a certain security that came to him when he lay under the blankets. He just wanted to roll up in them and surround himself in their warmth and protection.
He wrapped Simone in his arms. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend any day than under the covers with her.
READING HER DIARY (100)
This could possibly be the best thing or the worst thing that ever happened to us, the diary read.
Billy shifted uncomfortably. What secret did Simone have to keep from him? He looked down at the book again. Simone’s handwriting slanted across the page.
I don’t know if I should even tell Billy. I could handle this without him ever knowing. Or I could just leave. He doesn’t need to be saddled with this sort of thing.
Billy sighed and read on.
She won’t have a normal life.
She?
Simone was pregnant. He ran into the bathroom and threw up.
AMNESIA/HEALTH CRISIS (300)
“She’s running a fever,” said Simone.
“What do we do?” I asked. Somehow I felt like this was my fault. Maybe if we hadn’t gone on that walk the other day when it was drizzling out. But I had the umbrella over her stroller the whole time. I got a little wet- I didn’t mind- but, other than the first minute when I had to wrestle with the diaper bag to find the umbrella, she stayed dry. Could they take her away from me from doing something so stupid?
Maxine started to cry and I picked her up and started to bounce from one foot to the other. It usually calmed her down, but she was so restless. And her little body felt like a furnace.
“Call the pediatrician,” I said.
Simone shot me a look, then seemed to realize that I was a heartbeat away from a full-scale panic. She dialed the number and put the pediatrician on speakerphone. The doctor spoke to us in the manner of someone who had dealt with many first time parents. She gave instructions and then told us to bring Maxine in if the fever didn’t break.
I continued to rock Maxine in my arms, then softly started to sing the one song I knew by heart, “Oh when the Blues go marching in. Oh when the Blues go marching in. How I want to be in that number. When the Blues go marching in.” I sang to her until my voice felt hoarse. She rested her tiny head against my chest and closed her eyes. I sat down on the sofa and Simone sat next to me. She twined her fingers with mine as we both sat vigil.
“She’s gonna be all right,” Simone whispered.
“She’s our kid. Of course, she will.”
PHOBIA (100)
“Daddy, what are you ‘fraid of?”
“Lots of things. The dark. Drowning. Thunder.”
“What about monsters?”
“What about them?”
“Are you scared of monsters?”
“I think it depends on the monster. I think some monsters might be afraid of me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, pumpkin. If any monster tried to scare you or your mama, they’d better start running ‘cause I’d,” he curled his hands into a ball and squeezed, “grab them by the throat and squeeze really tightly so they would know not to mess with my girls.”
“And they’d never come bother us again.”
“Nope. Because they’d be scared to.”
SPA TREATMENT (100)
When Simone came home, Billy was sitting on the floor, painting Maxine’s fingernails. Maxine proclaimed, “Daddy and me are having a spa day.”
“Great.”
“Do you think Mommy would like her nails painted?” Billy asked.
Simone nodded.
“Maxine, you pick out a color.”
“Hold on just a minute,” Simone said. “When your mommy used to go to the…”
“Spa.”
“…spa, they would always let her pick out her own nail polish.”
“Which one would you pick?”
Simone pointed to a nail polish that was a color called Ravishing Red. “That one.”
“That’s the one I would’ve picked,” Maxine said proudly.
MAKING UP (100)
“Go ‘way!” Maxine shouted.
I decided to let her cool down. I walked into the kitchen where Simone was doing a crossword puzzle. She didn’t look up as she said, “If you can’t handle this at four, how are you going to handle it at fourteen?”
I sighed and then walked back down the hall to Maxine’s room. I didn’t bother to knock, just stood outside the door and asked, “Would you like to get ice cream?”
“Chocolate chip?”
“If you want.”
The door opened and Maxine stepped out. I hoped the same tactics would work when she was fourteen.
