Fiction Is Fun. More so than I thought possible.

So we're doing short stories in writing through lit.  I've been wanting to post one up here, but I've been to nervous.  My first one will be back from Mrs. Van Dis soon, with her lovely critiques, and I will post that one up ASAP.  This is just a little something I've started, and has a nice little end place.  DO take note that THIS STORY IS NOT FINISHED.  (I was going to put a picture but it's taking too long and it's late and maybe I will put one when it's not time for me to study for AP Euro.)

Enjoy!

"Stupid fucking broken elevator.  Like they couldn't afford to fix it.  It's the upper east side for Christ's sake…" Bianca muttered to herself as she hiked up ten flights of stairs in her Jimmy Choo's, up to her mother's flat.

            "Dear heart!  Welcome, Mommy's so glad to see you!"  Margaret nearly yelled as she hugged her daughter.

            "Mom, I'm eighteen now, remember?  You don't have to talk to me like I'm five."  Bianca replied, icily receiving the hug.

            "Oh, God, you're right.  I'm sorry.  I'll be better." Her mother gushed as she pulled away leaving one hand on Bianca's shoulder.  Bianca noticed that the other hand was gripping tightly on a Cosmopolitan.

            "Wowee, mom.  Cosmos?  Well, it's five o'clock somewhere, right?" She said, as she took off her coat.

            "Darling, you know the rules.  Post noon is appropriate for drinking.  And I know it's past noon, now.  Besides, Mimosas and Bloody Mary's are pre-noon drinks.  Those two only though!"  Margaret retorted a little too loudly.

            "Well, how about I get you something to sip on?  What would you like, honey?"

            "Get me a Cuba Libre, and we'll be free of my criticism." Bianca mused.

            "Coming right up.  Sy!"

            Bianca's heart stopped.  She had completely forgotten about her mother's newest boyfriend.    Margaret's slurred yells could be heard from the kitchen as Sy entered the room.

"A Cuba Libre para ti, chicana." He coyly smiled.  Bianca's face was swept with a big goofy grin and reddened cheeks.  She loved the way he spoke, every word filled with perfected confidence, never trailing into arrogance.

            "How's life after graduation?  Do you know what you want to do yet?"

            "She hasn't got a fucking clue what she wants to do with her life, Darling."  Margaret declared, teetering back in, standing between them, her back to Bianca.

            “But she does know that she wants to dick around for a year to figure it out.  And with MY money for her rent!"  Margaret explained all of this with hand quotes, letting the thick, cruel phrases drop out of her mouth.  Bianca's eye met Sy's.  He mouthed 'I'm sorry'.  Margaret wrapped herself around Sy, biting his ear and growling "seductively".  In the trashed sort of way that tells everyone else what a sad person you are. With her blood near boiling point, Bianca forced her mouth to stay shut as she fought the urge to start a catfight.

            "Hon, we've had a big day, you seem tired.  Do you want to go take a nap?  Don't forget the company ball tonight." Sy cooed, pulling her off him.

            "Oh God," she rolled her eyes, "That thing.  Well, a nap does sound nice right now…" Margaret continued to mutter to herself as she stumbled into her bedroom.  There was a long pause.  Had Bianca not been so angry at her mother, she would have been paying attention to how Sy had olive undertones in his skin, and that his eyes were dark green, and played off of his rich brown hair.  Instead, she gulped down, and felt the rum and lime juice warm her stomach.

            "Sorry about her.  The week's been really big so she's been…. uh, really letting loose today." Sy quietly said, scratching his head and walking towards Bianca.

            "I mean, I lived with her for nearly eighteen years.  The only partying she does is the hard kind.  I'm used to it." She coldly replied, staring into her near empty drink.

            "Well, what are you thinking about doing in the future?"

"I mean, when I was living with Margaret, we always had a chef, but whenever I stayed with Dad, he'd always cook.  I always helped out, but I never learned anything.  I've been looking at cooking schools, but I don't want to go in without any experience, so I'm looking at some informal cooking classes, just to get a feel for it."  Bianca looked up, seeing Sy staring and grinning.

            "Bianca, did Margaret never tell you that I'm a chef?  I can give you lessons if you want." And with a single flash of those million dollar teeth, Bianca’s head was reeling into the realm of possibility.  Her and Sy.  Alone.  All six feet and four inches of the Amazon God.  Her insecurities made her doubt her ability to attract him, but her raw determinate desire made her decide that seducing him was a must.  “What better way to his pants than through his stomach?” She thought to herself.  She stared straight into the forest green eyes of his.

            “I think that’s a great idea.  When can we get started?"