OK, I thought I'd try something different for tonight's creative endeavor. Once again I am dabbling in the world of fiction, only this time I'm sharing a half-baked idea.
My hope is that you all will provide me with the next part of this story, to be continued later in the week. (Perhaps this "class participation" effort will make up for the fact that I haven't been able to make the blog rounds much this week. Sorry.)
If you want to play, please leave a comment letting me know what you think happens next. I will choose one or more comments to serve as the components for the next part of the story. Your responses can be serious or humorous, but let's keep it R-rated or tamer, please. ;-)
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Molly slid under the bleachers, threw her bookbag on the ground, and kneeled among the tall grass. She glanced anxiously at her watch -- 12:38.
"Caren's always late," she fretted to herself. "I hope I'm not late to American Lit class again, or Mrs. Johnson will be really pissed."
While she waited, she observed the surrounding area from her secluded vantage point. It looked quite different in the daylight than it had the previous Friday night, when she and Johnny snuck away from watching the football game for a brief necking session under those same bleachers.
Yeah, it had been hot and heavy for about 3 minutes, until Molly got nervous that they might be discovered by mean old Mr. Fredericksen, who patrolled the bleachers with a flashlight every few minutes. Although Johnny protested, she was able to convince him to go back out and finish watching the game. Unfortunately, he sulked for the rest of the evening, and barely pecked her on the cheek when he dropped her off at home.
Molly had thought it was smart to play hard to get. Caren just said she was a prude. And although Molly hated to admit that Caren might be right, Johnny hadn't called her again.
Molly sighed deeply and glanced at her watch again. 12:41 now. She had about 15 minutes, tops, before she'd have to run off to class, and still no sign of Caren.
Suddenly, Molly heard a rustle in the grass behind her. She whipped around, expecting to see one of the gym teachers, but came face-to-face with the ripped knees of Caren's jeans. Caren stood above her in a menacing pose.
"Scared ya, huh?" Caren laughed as she plopped down in the grass next to Molly. Rummaging through her backpack, Caren pulled out a package of cigarettes and a lighter. She offered the pack to Molly, who shook her head. Shrugging, Caren lit one for herself and exhaled heavily.
"God, Josh is such a prick," Caren said between drags. "I'm totally over him. I told him there's no way I'm going to the movies with him this weekend. He can take that slutty sophomore for all I care. What's her name, Julie? Jenna? You know, the one with the--"
"Caren," Molly interrupted urgently, "I know you wanted to meet me here at 12:30, and it's almost a quarter of, and I need to get to class by 1:00. We have a test later in the week, and Mrs. Johnson gets angry if I'm more than five minutes late anyway...." Molly knew she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop talking. Caren had that effect on her.
"Oh yeah, right." Caren replied nonchalantly. "What I wanted to meet you about. Look, I need a favor from you. It's really important."
Molly glanced warily at Caren. "A favor? From me?"
Caren sighed. "Yes, a favor. I need you to..."
What's the favor that Caren needs from Molly?
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