This is me posting a piece of something in order for some constructive criticism to help me complete it soon, since I'm feeling stuck, and I need a different pair of eyes.
That's literally all I want - something other than "this is good" or "this is bad" because IDK. I'm being a picky/demanding writer today. I even put some helpful questions at the end for you...
Ride [pg; 1500 words]
"Hey, Teach!"
Jen was crossing the street from the bank where she worked over to the café when she heard the familiar deep voice. The nickname was one she hated, but she knew who was calling her and when she looked up ahead, she saw Evan Jones sitting on his motorcycle on the other end of the crosswalk. The bike was parked facing the street, idling as Evan leaned on the handlebars.
She loved the line of his body and the way he stretched out on the bike. He was a bear of a man, six foot two inches tall and sturdily built with tattoos covering both arms. Today he wore blue jeans tucked into his biker boots and a black t-shirt that fit snug over his chest.
"You know, Evan," Jen said upon approaching him, "I've told you a hundred times that I'm not a teacher. I don't know why you insist on calling me that." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Because it was warm today, she'd opted for a skirt instead of her usual khakis, and she felt a bit exposed.
Evan seemed to notice that, too, his eyes traveling the length of her body. He seemed to like what he saw, judging by the grin on his face when his blue eyes met hers. He ran a hand over his close-shaved brown hair. "So what's my Goody Two-Shoes up to today?" he asked her, tilting his head questioningly.
She didn't like particularly that nickname, either, but she knew that it was his way of teasing her. He was a tattooed, bad-boy biker, and she was a sweet and innocent good girl– at least in his mind. If he knew what was going on inside her head every time she saw him on that bike, he might realize that she wasn't the good girl he thought her to be.
"I'm just going to grab lunch at the café," she told him. She wanted to invite him to join her, but she was too nervous to do that. What if he said no? The thought of being rejected by him was too much.
With the bike still parked, Evan revved the engine a couple times. "What's the matter, sweetie? Don't you want me to take you for a ride?" The grin he flashed at her suggested that there might have been an alternate interpretation he was going for.
Flustered, she found that she couldn't speak. Did he know how badly she wanted to say yes and climb on the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him before they drove off into the sunset?
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said in that gravelly voice. He kicked the bike into gear and, winking at her, said, "Well, I bet a good little girl like you couldn't handle it anyway." Then he pulled out into traffic and roared off down the street.
Jen watched him go, feeling a sense of regret at the missed opportunity. Why couldn't she just have said something and gone with him? She wanted to show him that she was more than just a good little girl. She wanted Evan to see who she really was, and she knew she'd need more courage next time.
*
It was almost a week later before she saw Evan again. The weather was rainy for a couple days, and then she spent the weekend at home, cleaning and doing household chores that she couldn't put off. But Tuesday turned out to be another sunny day and during the work day, Jen found herself anticipating seeing Evan driving around town on his motorcycle.
She couldn't stop herself from constantly glancing out the window, even going so far as to wander over to the front door and peek out across the street, but she didn't see Evan all morning. Just before noon, business started picking up and she didn't have a lot of time to look out for him; in fact, it had almost completely slipped her mind.
When business finally slowed down, Rather than eating at the café for lunch, Jen had planned to sit out front of the bank on the bench and enjoy the sun with the lunch she'd packed for herself.
The main road in front of the bank was usually fairly slow this time of day, and with the nice weather, there were more people walking around – joggers, people walking their dogs, pushing strollers and just enjoying what the day had to offer. She was surprised at how many people weren't at work.
She had finished her sandwich and was eating one of her chocolate chip cookies when she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine coming up the street. Her heart stopped when she recognized Evan, even with his helmet pulled over his head; she would know that body and that bike anywhere. For a moment, she thought he was going to drive right on by, but then he pulled his bike into the little path to the left of the benches and parked it.
Evan climbed off the bike, removing his helmet and hanging it over the handlebars. For a moment, she was struck by the way he looked, tall and strong and powerful, even dressed as casually as he was today – black jeans this time, and a gray t-shirt.
Jen's heartbeat sped up as she realized that he was walking toward her. She did a quick check of her clothes, hoping she looked all right and trying to act casual as she did so.
"Hey, it's Little Miss Librarian!" he called out as he approached. "What's going on with my fair lady today?" Rather than sit down on the bench, he stood in front of it, putting one leg up and leaning on his leg to look down at her. "Ooh, cookies!" He was smiling again, and she wondered if he ever got upset about anything; he seemed to wear the cheeky grin like it was an accessory.
"Would you like one?" she asked, holding out the little plastic baggie for him. She decided not to correct him on the 'librarian' remark, since she knew that he was aware she didn't work in a library. It was just another way of him commenting on how innocent he thought she was.
"Did you bake these yourself?" he asked, helping himself to one. He winked. "I bet you look so cute in your kitchen with your cute little apron, baking cookies."
She rolled her eyes. "I can't bake to save my life," she told him. "My brother made these for me." Her brother was quite talented in the kitchen – a skill he'd picked up from their mother. Jen was utterly hopeless when it came to that sort of thing, though.
The look that Evan gave her was hard to interpret, and she wondered if perhaps he would liked her better if she did know how to bake. But that wasn't the kind of girl she was.
"You know, contrary to what you might think, I'm not this Stepford housewife. I hate cleaning, I can't cook anything more complicated than pasta, and I am not a sweet innocent motherly type," she pointed out. "You should hear the names I call my dog when he wakes me up in the middle of the night."
Evan raised his eyebrows. "You have a dog? Funny, I would've seen you as a cat lady."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, though!" she said, feeling her heart beat faster again, though this was less out of attraction and more with the slight thrill that she got from speaking her mind. "You already have this preconceived notion of who I am based on what you know about me, but the truth is that you really don't know me that much at all." But I want you to know me, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud, already feeling like she'd said too much.
He took his foot off the bench and stood up straight, for a minute acting like he didn't know what to do. He hooked his fingers into the belt loop of his pants as he looked at her. "I was just teasing," he said. "You haven't given me a chance to get to know you."
She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She didn't want to get angry with him because she wasn't angry. "I just wish you would call me my name and stop acting like I'm as pure as the driven snow just because I'm not –" and here she didn't know what to say. "I have to get back to work now."
Confrontation was not her strong suit, and she hadn't wanted to turn this into some kind of angry argument. She stood up from the bench and brushed off her pants before she picked up the remains of her lunch, prepared to head back inside.
"Hey," he said in a low voice, "Jen."
*
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Obviously this isn't finished, and I am still not 100% sure where it's going, but I know there's basically no actual plot.
-- What is "missing" i.e.: what is something that you're hoping to learn or that you feel should be in here but isn't?
-- Any bits that need further explanation or don't make sense?
-- Does it flow?
That's literally all I want - something other than "this is good" or "this is bad" because IDK. I'm being a picky/demanding writer today. I even put some helpful questions at the end for you...
Ride [pg; 1500 words]
"Hey, Teach!"
Jen was crossing the street from the bank where she worked over to the café when she heard the familiar deep voice. The nickname was one she hated, but she knew who was calling her and when she looked up ahead, she saw Evan Jones sitting on his motorcycle on the other end of the crosswalk. The bike was parked facing the street, idling as Evan leaned on the handlebars.
She loved the line of his body and the way he stretched out on the bike. He was a bear of a man, six foot two inches tall and sturdily built with tattoos covering both arms. Today he wore blue jeans tucked into his biker boots and a black t-shirt that fit snug over his chest.
"You know, Evan," Jen said upon approaching him, "I've told you a hundred times that I'm not a teacher. I don't know why you insist on calling me that." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Because it was warm today, she'd opted for a skirt instead of her usual khakis, and she felt a bit exposed.
Evan seemed to notice that, too, his eyes traveling the length of her body. He seemed to like what he saw, judging by the grin on his face when his blue eyes met hers. He ran a hand over his close-shaved brown hair. "So what's my Goody Two-Shoes up to today?" he asked her, tilting his head questioningly.
She didn't like particularly that nickname, either, but she knew that it was his way of teasing her. He was a tattooed, bad-boy biker, and she was a sweet and innocent good girl– at least in his mind. If he knew what was going on inside her head every time she saw him on that bike, he might realize that she wasn't the good girl he thought her to be.
"I'm just going to grab lunch at the café," she told him. She wanted to invite him to join her, but she was too nervous to do that. What if he said no? The thought of being rejected by him was too much.
With the bike still parked, Evan revved the engine a couple times. "What's the matter, sweetie? Don't you want me to take you for a ride?" The grin he flashed at her suggested that there might have been an alternate interpretation he was going for.
Flustered, she found that she couldn't speak. Did he know how badly she wanted to say yes and climb on the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him before they drove off into the sunset?
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said in that gravelly voice. He kicked the bike into gear and, winking at her, said, "Well, I bet a good little girl like you couldn't handle it anyway." Then he pulled out into traffic and roared off down the street.
Jen watched him go, feeling a sense of regret at the missed opportunity. Why couldn't she just have said something and gone with him? She wanted to show him that she was more than just a good little girl. She wanted Evan to see who she really was, and she knew she'd need more courage next time.
It was almost a week later before she saw Evan again. The weather was rainy for a couple days, and then she spent the weekend at home, cleaning and doing household chores that she couldn't put off. But Tuesday turned out to be another sunny day and during the work day, Jen found herself anticipating seeing Evan driving around town on his motorcycle.
She couldn't stop herself from constantly glancing out the window, even going so far as to wander over to the front door and peek out across the street, but she didn't see Evan all morning. Just before noon, business started picking up and she didn't have a lot of time to look out for him; in fact, it had almost completely slipped her mind.
When business finally slowed down, Rather than eating at the café for lunch, Jen had planned to sit out front of the bank on the bench and enjoy the sun with the lunch she'd packed for herself.
The main road in front of the bank was usually fairly slow this time of day, and with the nice weather, there were more people walking around – joggers, people walking their dogs, pushing strollers and just enjoying what the day had to offer. She was surprised at how many people weren't at work.
She had finished her sandwich and was eating one of her chocolate chip cookies when she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine coming up the street. Her heart stopped when she recognized Evan, even with his helmet pulled over his head; she would know that body and that bike anywhere. For a moment, she thought he was going to drive right on by, but then he pulled his bike into the little path to the left of the benches and parked it.
Evan climbed off the bike, removing his helmet and hanging it over the handlebars. For a moment, she was struck by the way he looked, tall and strong and powerful, even dressed as casually as he was today – black jeans this time, and a gray t-shirt.
Jen's heartbeat sped up as she realized that he was walking toward her. She did a quick check of her clothes, hoping she looked all right and trying to act casual as she did so.
"Hey, it's Little Miss Librarian!" he called out as he approached. "What's going on with my fair lady today?" Rather than sit down on the bench, he stood in front of it, putting one leg up and leaning on his leg to look down at her. "Ooh, cookies!" He was smiling again, and she wondered if he ever got upset about anything; he seemed to wear the cheeky grin like it was an accessory.
"Would you like one?" she asked, holding out the little plastic baggie for him. She decided not to correct him on the 'librarian' remark, since she knew that he was aware she didn't work in a library. It was just another way of him commenting on how innocent he thought she was.
"Did you bake these yourself?" he asked, helping himself to one. He winked. "I bet you look so cute in your kitchen with your cute little apron, baking cookies."
She rolled her eyes. "I can't bake to save my life," she told him. "My brother made these for me." Her brother was quite talented in the kitchen – a skill he'd picked up from their mother. Jen was utterly hopeless when it came to that sort of thing, though.
The look that Evan gave her was hard to interpret, and she wondered if perhaps he would liked her better if she did know how to bake. But that wasn't the kind of girl she was.
"You know, contrary to what you might think, I'm not this Stepford housewife. I hate cleaning, I can't cook anything more complicated than pasta, and I am not a sweet innocent motherly type," she pointed out. "You should hear the names I call my dog when he wakes me up in the middle of the night."
Evan raised his eyebrows. "You have a dog? Funny, I would've seen you as a cat lady."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, though!" she said, feeling her heart beat faster again, though this was less out of attraction and more with the slight thrill that she got from speaking her mind. "You already have this preconceived notion of who I am based on what you know about me, but the truth is that you really don't know me that much at all." But I want you to know me, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud, already feeling like she'd said too much.
He took his foot off the bench and stood up straight, for a minute acting like he didn't know what to do. He hooked his fingers into the belt loop of his pants as he looked at her. "I was just teasing," he said. "You haven't given me a chance to get to know you."
She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She didn't want to get angry with him because she wasn't angry. "I just wish you would call me my name and stop acting like I'm as pure as the driven snow just because I'm not –" and here she didn't know what to say. "I have to get back to work now."
Confrontation was not her strong suit, and she hadn't wanted to turn this into some kind of angry argument. She stood up from the bench and brushed off her pants before she picked up the remains of her lunch, prepared to head back inside.
"Hey," he said in a low voice, "Jen."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Obviously this isn't finished, and I am still not 100% sure where it's going, but I know there's basically no actual plot.
-- What is "missing" i.e.: what is something that you're hoping to learn or that you feel should be in here but isn't?
-- Any bits that need further explanation or don't make sense?
-- Does it flow?
6 comments | Leave a comment