First a HUGE THANKS to everyone who left comments on my first post. (
You can read the first post here if you haven't yet.)
I'm a little bit behind in my word count, but I'm quickly catching up. With a lot of my stories I end up getting stuck which is why I'm never able to finish them. With Grace, she is such a quirky character, I keep thinking of new ways she can completely embaress herself and really not care.
Remember, if you're doing NaNoWriMo or even just writing a story now - join in for Writers Wednesday. I'd love to see your snid bits!
(I couldn't decide on what to post so I went with two again. The first one is a little lengthy, but I wanted to introduce Grace's fake boyfriend. And the second one is where the ball gets rolling on all the craziness Grace is about to have in her life.)
Snid Bit One
Did I have something on my face? Why isn’t he talking anymore? I bet he wants his money. I should give him what I have, but it’s the only cash I have until tomorrow. Plus I’m starving to death and there is nothing to eat in my apartment besides leftover Mexican food from a week or possibly even two weeks ago. I could go to Vicki’s to get something to munch on, but she’s on one of those crazy diets again. I don’t really care for grapefruit or hot sauce mixed with water. That girl will do anything to shed a couple pounds. Not me. I just wear my gut sucker.
“Are you hungry?” I ask him.
“What?” he asks. Is he deaf or am I just talking too fast?
“Hungry? Ya know like your stomach is rumbling, and you want to stick something in your mouth to make it stop?” The blank stare is still on his face. Maybe I’m talking too fast for him. “I’m just going to shoot it to you straight here. All I have is thirty bucks, and I’d give it to you, but I am starving. I’m also going to need some bus fare to get home. So, if you don’t care, I’ll take you out to breakfast.”
“It’s almost one o’clock.”
“Get out. Are you serious?” I grab his wrist and look down at his watch. It has a black leather band with some comic book face in the center. What a dweeb. “All right, so are you down for some lunch then?”
“You’re not going to give me the fifty bucks?” he asks.
“I will. Just not all of it…right now.” His eyes narrow at me. I’ve definitely pissed him off. I hope he isn’t a psycho killer. That would really just top of my day if I got chopped to bits in this alley way. “I’m not one to lie–”
“But you said fifty bucks when you yanked me off the street.”
“Okay, first,” I say, throwing my hand on my hip, “there was no yanking involved. Secondly, you didn’t have to say yes to any of this. I had no clue I was this broke, all right? But if you want to take the last of my money then here.” I shove my wadded up bills towards him. “
Take it!” He doesn’t say anything, only stares at me with his mouth hanging open. I take this as my golden opportunity to talk more. “Or we can go grab some grub then I’ll get your number and tomorrow you’ll get the rest of the money. Sound like a deal?”
Before he can give me his answer, Madonna starts singing.
Like a virgin, touched for the very first time. Like a virgin….
Taking one step back, he flips open his phone and starts talking to Derk again. I do feel like a major jerk face for stiffing him on the fifty bucks. In all honesty, I’m a very generous person. Just ask Stephen. I paid all the bills for seven months while he laid on the couch and watched TV. Granted he did fall off a building, but it wasn’t like he was eighty feet in the air or anything. The doctor said he would be fine after a couple months of physical therapy. But Stephen milked that crap for all it was worth.
“She wants me to get something to eat with her,” my fake boyfriend says in a low voice. Anyone else wouldn’t have heard him. Lucky for me I have super sonic hearing abilities I inherited from my mother. “I’m not telling her that!” I’m beyond curious now of what Derk wants him to say to me. I bet it’s something dirty. “Where? I’ll call you back.” He flips his phone back again and looks at me. “Sorry. He’s–”
“Are you sure you’re not gay?” I ask.
“I’m pretty sure,” he says with a small but yet adorable laugh.
On cue, Madonna starts belting out from his phone again. My fake boyfriend doesn’t get the chance to greet Derk because I've taken matters into my own hands. Grabbing his phone, I hit the talk button. I’m not usually this bold. Okay, I am, but I don’t even know this guy’s name yet. For some reason I feel the need to hang out with him just a little while longer. I think it’s because of his eyes or maybe his laugh.
“Yo, Derk!” I say as if we're best friends.
“Whaddup-whaddup!” he says in a loud squeaky voice that makes me giggle. I bet he’s built like a football player.
“So, listen, me and your heterosexual life mate are going to get something to eat. You game?”
“You’re serious? That wuss agreed to go out to lunch with you?” I glance over at my fake boyfriend and grin.
“He hasn’t exactly agreed to it yet, but I think with some persuasion–”
“Tell him if he doesn’t go, I’ll tell you about the ring tone!” Derk yells with so much enthusiasm I have to rip the phone away from my ear. My fake boyfriend launches toward me to get the phone out of my hand. This bet has to be good. Being the pest I am, I hold the phone over my head and start backing away. It’s not like he can’t grab it considering he’s about eight inches taller than me.
“Excuse me,” I say, pushing my hand against his chest. “I’m talking to my friend Derk here.” This is my weak attempt at flirting. I even flash him a tiny smile then get back on the phone. “I dunno. I think he likes that ring tone a little too much to go with me.”
“Fine!” my fake boyfriend yells, throwing his hands up in the air. “Let’s go to lunch!”
“HELL YEAH!” Derk screams on the other end, and I quickly jerk the phone away from my ear. I’m pretty sure my ear drum's going to bust if I continue to talk to him. I don’t know how my fake boyfriend can handle this all the time.
I give him back the phone and lean against the building to try and block the wind. My toes have to have frost bite on them. If I had been thinking at all last night I would have worn panty hose with this outfit. That is if I even own a pair. Any other time I try to wear them I get a nail caught while putting them on. Or I’ll grab the wrong shade so my legs are all nice and tanned while the rest of my body looks like one of those albino kids from Village of the Damned.
“You ready?” I ask when he hangs up the phone. Nodding his head, he stuffs his hands into his pockets as we start walking down the sidewalk. He tells me to choose the place we’re going to eat at. After all as he reminds me, I am paying. I know there's a small café just around the corner with horrible coffee, but it’s close and I’m too cold to care.
“Aren’t you freezing?” he asks me. I teeter totter the idea of asking him what his first clue was, but I decide to keep my smart mouth shut this time. “Do you want my jacket?”
I nod my head and take the tan coat feeling the warmth wrapping around me. “I’m Grace by the way,” I say, reaching my hand out to shake. His palm is warm and not scratchy feeling like most guys. He has a pretty nice grip too. Not pansy at all.
“Dean,” he replies. Ethan-Dean. Hhmm. I like the sound of that.
Snid Bit Two
There’s really no sense in trying to ignore a phone call from my mother. If I don’t pick up after the millionth time, she’ll just jump in her car and drive all the way to my apartment to make sure I wasn't murdered in my sleep.
Throwing the covers off my head, I stretch out my arms towards my nightstand, smack my hand around, knocking something that is more in likely not important off, and finally grab my phone.
“Someone better be dead,” I grumble.
“You’re in a movie?” my mother asks, skipping any sort of lecture or even a good morning.
I throw the covers off my head and sit up. “What time is it?”
“It’s six-thirty,” she replies.
“
In the morning?” I choke, ripping off my eye mask.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a movie?” she demands. I rub my eyes and let out a loud groan. If she’s going to ramble on about complete nonsense, I wish she’d pick a decent hour. I wasn’t even aware six in the morning still existed. Haven’t people ever heard of sleeping in once in a while? It does the body good.
“Ask about the boyfriend!” I hear someone shout. “I’ll run a background check on him when I get to the station.”
“What is Donnie talking about?” I ask, knowing if had to be my uncle since he’s the only cop that would be at my parents’ house this early in the morning.
“You’re not running a background check on him,” my mother tells him. “Now eat your breakfast until I can find out about this movie and new boyfriend of hers.” Movie? Boyfriend? Oh crap. The covers go flying off my body and I jump to my feet. I smack my free hand to my forehead and start to pace on my bed.
“Gracie,” my mother says, “I’m putting you on speakerphone. Your father just got back from his jog, and he’s going to want to hear all about this.” There’s a slight commotion and I hear a few buttons being pushed.
If there was ever a very good reason to shank Stephen, this is definitely one of them. Who else could have told them about my pretend movie and boyfriend? He must have ran home to his mama when I seen him. He knows our mothers still talk. But why did he even care to tell her?
I have exactly three seconds to come up with some believable reason of why I never mentioned this movie that apparently my fat mouthed ex-husband didn’t have a problem talking about. I hope my mother doesn’t give me the speech again about how Stephen is like the son she never had. If he were still in the family, this phone call at the butt crack of down wouldn’t even be an issue.
He always made sure to call them on their birthdays.
He always made sure we showed up to every family function even when I accidentally on purpose didn’t write it down on the calendar.
“Skip the movie and ask her about the boyfriend!” Donnie yells. “Is he a playboy like that other punk?”
“Ask her if he’s Catholic!” another voice yells.
I stop for a second realizing the voice belongs to my other uncle, Johnny. While I shouldn’t be surprised he's at my parents’ house for breakfast – a crazy morning ritual these people have that I’ve never participated in – I’m in shock he’s speaking towards me. He’s only said ten sentences to me since I got a divorce.
It wasn't I left Stephen is why he hasn't talked to me. He wasn't really head over heels about him in the first place. He was more dissaopinted in the fact that I in a round about way sort of left our family church when I decided to get divorced. And he just so happens to be the priest there.
“Will you boys be quiet for two seconds?” my mother hisses.
“Sorry ma,” I hear them both say in unison then crack up.
While my mother shushes them again, I realize I have to just tell her the truth. And I’m about to do that. I’m about to tell her it was a desperate moment in my life where I didn’t want to feel like a complete loser when Stephen was parading his new fiancée in my face, but her next two sentences change all my rational thinking.
“I cannot believe my daughter is going to be in a movie! Do you know how proud I am of you?” she gushes.
Proud? My mother use to tell me she was proud of me for just about everything I did. When I made the biggest mistake of my life in Vegas a.k.a Stephen - that word hasn't came out of her mouth. Sure after a few months of our marriage she loved Stephen and all, but it was like something had been taken out of our relationship. Hearing her say she's proud of me makes me feel like I've just won the lottery. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it slip away again. So I do something I know I will more in likely forever regret until the day I die.
I lie to my mother.
♥amber
