A writing piece inspired by touch and different points of view.
Charles is such a bore, I thought staring at him from across the table. God, how can he just sit there and completely ignore the rest of the world? He was so far apart from the rest of the world, completely immersed in what we were supposed to be studying. I hated bio, the science of life. Please, I could learn more about life by watching other people instead of reading about it in a stupid textbook.
But I really had no choice. I turned my focus back to the dull text lined pages and saw my on-again, off-again friend walking towards us. Kellie Iver was the queen bee at school. She was smart in her own ways I guess, like girl smart, book smart or common sense smart not so much. I still found her useful and amusing.
“Kellie! What are you doing here?”
“Clancy, you know Charles is helping me with algebra, don’t be silly.” She raised a petite hand to her mouth to cover a fake laugh; I did a mental eye roll. It may have been a literal eye roll.
“Oh right, how could I have forgotten,” and gave myself a non-mental head slap, “Sometimes Char is just so entertaining I lose all track of time.” Hopefully, neither of them would catch the sarcasm. I have to catch myself before I fake barf when she lays a tiny hand on his shoulder; he hates being touched. God, the girl has no clue, so stupid, but so amusing.
You are a boring person, completely absorbed in studying. But you have to be. You are here to study, not make friends or hang out. Your parents sent you here on their last savings, their last pennies were given to you for a better life, and you cannot and will not let them down. The cold library has become your home; the wooden table your sanctuary, and the plastic chairs have become your bed more than once. And now you are stuck doing a lab report with an outgoing, spastic, random, eccentric, senseless girl named Clancy.
But secretly you admire her. You like listening to her voice. You like the small stories she tells even if they have no point. They give you something else to think about. You even like that she calls you Char, no one else is allowed to. She sits across the table from you, her warm brown eyes staring at you, her short brown hair cut to frame her face. She has an interest in you, but you ignore it.
Your own blue eyes drop to the biology textbook, you have to ace the lab report or your grade will drop. Just as you start reading again you hear Clancy speak, her voice almost taunting, but yet joyful and relaxed. Turning you see who she was talking to, another girl, Kellie. You don’t want to be near Kellie.
Her platinum blond hair and fake tan she disgusts you, but the extra credit you get for tutoring her looks good on your transcript. You stiffen as she puts a hand on your shoulder; you hate her touch, soft and delicate, wimpy and passive.
THIRD PERSON EXTERNAL
The two of them were sitting across the wooden table from each other. Both are studying for something, perhaps a lab report, an essay or exam. The young man, Charles, looks uncomfortable, like he wants to take his eyes away from studying, but can’t and forces himself to continue reading.
The young woman, Clancy, on the other hand, is staring at Charles. She is wondering what is going on in his mind; she wants to know what he is thinking. The girl speaks, her voice laughing and amused.
Another girl enters the scene, a complete opposite from Clancy. Her platinum blond hair is long, cut past her shoulders and styled in an impressive coil of ringlets and curls. Her make-up is thick giving her that Barbie doll appearance and her clothes are as equally as tight fitting as those made for the dolls. She struts over, reaching the table she laughs, a fake and phony laugh and lays a hand on Charles’ shoulder, he visibly stiffens and tries to cover a look of disgust.
THIRD PERSON LIMITED
Kellie strutted towards the small table. She had been searching for Charles all over but had only recently remembered that he practically lived in the library. What a nerd. She stopped that thought, then continued, but a hot nerd. Charles was very attractive. Toned and muscled he had the face that looked like it had been carved by birds, or angels, or whatever the saying was. Kellie fluffed her hair before reaching the table and gave a fake smile towards Clancy’sdirection. The girl had such a horrible name, Clancy, what was she raised on a farm? Probably.
Clancy spoke first, nice as always, “Kellie! What are you doing here?”
The blond responded with a high pitched, but elegant voice, “Clancy, you know Charles is helping me with algebra, don’t be silly.”
Kellie laughed and covered her rosebud mouth with a slim hand. She smiled again as Clancy responded, and she didn’t miss the sarcasm, Clancy was well-known for that. Setting a hand on Charles’ broad shoulders she could feel him stiffen beneath her touch but left her hand there. He would learn soon enough what her touch felt like and in more places than just his shoulder.