One More Week

Part One of a Story Called “Adolescent Feelings”

Last week, I published an article about a brainstorming exercise to help writers generate story ideas. Part of the content included information about developing a story plan. My ideas from the article have been executed in this short story.

The premise for part 1: It was May 2010 at Northwood Middle School in Smithson, Colorado. Two weeks before graduation, four best friends faced a big decision: Whether to go to the eighth-grade dance. Dean really liked Ava, and he wanted to ask her to the dance. But he was afraid her rejection would ruin their friendship. Would his friend, Vince, convince him to take a chance? Read Part 1 of “Adolescent Feelings” to find out.

“Great job today, guys! Remember, next Saturday is the eighth-grade dance! So find your dates, buy your tickets, and bring your best moves! Oh, and I’ll be chaperoning.”

Groans and laughs echoed throughout the classroom. Chaperones were lame, but Mr. Vinday was the funniest teacher at Northwood Junior High. Yet, Dean couldn’t cheer about it. Instead, he started sweating as he thought about asking one of his best friends (and crush) to dance with him.

And there she was. The blonde highlights in Ava’s hair glowed in the sunlight blazing through the window. Dean was always mesmerized by her glistening blue eyes. He came up with every excuse to look at them without making his feelings for her obvious.

“Hey, Ava,” he said as she started to walk past his desk. “Are you…doing anything fun this weekend?”

Ask her to the dance before someone else does, Dean thought.

“Hey, Dean. If Cindy and I decide to go to the dance, we might buy dresses tomorrow. But I’m not even sure if we’re going yet. We might just watch movies at my house.”

“Oh. Well, you should go to the dance. It’s the last one before graduation.”

There was an awkward pause as Ava nervously twirled a strand of her beautiful hair. “Maybe. Are you going to the dance?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to see. Vince and I might play soccer and video games at his house.”

Another awkward pause. Dean’s best friend, Vince, peered around the corner near the open door, motioning for Dean to hurry up.

“Sorry, Ava. I have to go. Vince is waiting for me.”