Romance / A Day Late...
“Damn, damn, damn…, I mean, darn, darn, darn,” Maggie mentally chastised herself.
Stopping the nasty words was one of her New Year’s Resolutions. And to stop
procrastinating was another, she reminded herself as she careened around the corner virtually on two wheels, nearly losing control of her Cooper Mini. Whipping into the only open space left in the parking lot, which was about two city blocks away from her Economics class. Since today was the first day of school, she figured no one would be so cruel to assign homework, or really even go over any relevant information, she ran across the asphalt without her books.
What was she thinking? Going back to school at her age, twenty-nine -- yes, the original twenty-nine. Maybe it was a pre-thirty crisis that prompted the change or maybe it was that being an Administrative Assistant at a marketing firm was as far as she would get in life without an education- although her boss, the company president, couldn’t function without her at his every beck and call. You would think she knew what she was doing.
Whatever the reason, Maggie huffed up the stairs to the third floor, took a deep, steadying breath and slung the door open. Every head turned to stare at her, including the professor, as she quietly slunk into the nearest available seat. Wishing she could disappear in a puff of smoke, Maggie couldn’t help but notice the blue eyes peeking from under- Ugh- heavily pomaded black hair and wire-rimmed glasses, which were now boring into her own. Her heart beat at a hasty speed as she could hardly tear her gaze from his.
What was wrong with her? Geek chic- no way! Not even with Bill Gates’ bank account attached.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I am passing around a seating chart. Sign your name to show where you are currently seated as this will be your assigned seat throughout the term.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. Assigned seats? Did professor oil slick think they were all twelve? Still, not wanting to sit directly in front of someone who already didn’t like her for an entire Summer, Maggie raised her hand.
Not bothering to hide his exasperation, the professor huffed, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to be a pain, Professor, uh…,” she glanced frantically about for her schedule for his name. No luck. ”...but can I move to a new seat? I can’t see the blackboard very well from here.”
“Well, Ms….” he paused for a moment for her to fill in her name, but she was way too interested in his answer and distracted by the way his glasses hid his beautiful lashes so he continued, “if you had attended the first day of class you would have known to get here early to choose another seat today, but I cannot give you preferential treatment due to your lack of attendance.”
“What? What do you mean I missed the first day? Today is the first day of school. Today the 14th,” Maggie began frantically looking through her purse for her date book.
She opened it and saw that she had in fact marked Monday the 12th as the first day of school. With her head in her hands, Maggie berated herself for her own stupidity and carelessness. If only she had checked earlier, she could have saved herself from this disastrous day.
By this time, the professor had already passed the seating chart around to the other students and had returned to his desk, directly in front of her.
“Excuse me,” he leaned towards Maggie, “Do you have a name?”
Not taking her head from her hands, she answered, “Maggie. Uh, Margaret Chapel.”
“Margaret Chapel there are required textbooks for this course, you do know that?”
She absently nodded her assent.
“Where are they, Ms. Chapel?”
Wishing a large hole would open underneath her, wondering how the day could get any worse, “I have them. They’re in my car,” hoping for a sliver of sympathy, she added, “but I’m parked about a half-mile away.”
Unstirred by her plight, “If you get going now, you’ll miss going over the homework and only some of the information I’m going over tonight. If you stay after, I’ll lend you notes to copy this evening.”
“I missed homework? You gave homework the first day of school?” she yelped
incredulously.
“Yes, Ms Chapel. This is college after all and your parents or the government are paying for your education. I intend to see they get the most for their money.”
Not bothering to respond, Maggie grabbed her keys and stormed out towards the three flights of stairs to her car. On the way, her cell phone sang a Pop song. The mutty professor would’ve had her flogged and in an iron maiden if it had rang while she was in his class. Relieved her luck was changing, Maggie looked at the number. It was her best friend secretly calling from her own desk jockey job.
“Hey, Cind.”
“Hey, Mags. What’s going on?”
“I was in Micro Economics, and, get this, I get to class late and Professor ‘I-have-an- important-degree-and-you-don’t…”
“Wait!! You’re always late, but I need details. What’s he like, and, more importantly, is he single?”
“A nerd and a jerk. And I’m not ALWAYS late. Just sometimes. He is definitely your type. Tall. Dark, wavy black hair. Needs a cut. Needs less Quaker State. Intense blue eyes. Glasses. Studious. Anal. Grumpy.”
“Ok- keep tall, keep blue eyes, lose the rest. And anal and grumpy are not ‘my type’.”
“No, but you like smart guys. Gordon is intelligent.”
“Yeah, well, I might not be his type anymore.”
“What? What are you talking about, Cind? He’s nuts about you.”
“He’s always working late. I hardly ever get to see him anymore. He travels all the time, and when he’s away, he doesn’t call.”
Searching for the right words to comfort her friend, but not finding them, “Well, he’s a busy guy. Opening your own computer repair business is not easy these days. Lots of networking and not much income. Give him a break.”
“I don’t know, Mags. I hope you’re right.”
“Of course, I am. Aren’t I always? Don’t answer that. Look, I’m back at my class. I’ll call you tonight.”
Maggie made sure the phone was completely off and tucked away as the door opened and out came the professor.
“Excuse me, Ms. Chapel. May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure. And it’s Miss,” Just because he was a jerky nerd, didn’t mean his single friends would be. Always be prepared. I’m such a girl scout, she thought, then wondered if that was only the boy scout motto. Oh, well.
“Miss Chapel, this is a condensed Summer class,” began the professor. He folded his arms awkwardly in front of him. “It is very intense and having missed the first day, you are already behind. In addition, you have been extremely disruptive to my class today. I need to know if this is going to be a continuing situation or will you be more organized in the future?”
A flush of red creep up her neck. She pulled all five feet two of her up to his six foot plus frame and barely refrained from shouting. “I am NOT disruptive nor am I disorganized. I am just having a bad day. I am fully prepared to do whatever I have to do to keep up with you.”
Surprised by her closeness, the professor involuntarily took a step back, “I’m not trying to make you mad, but you just seem more like the kind of person who should be sitting on a beach with a cocktail in hand than in my economics class during her Summer.”
Rocking back on her heels, a light of understanding shown in her eyes, “So, you think I’m just some dumb chick who doesn’t have enough brains to make it through your precious little course?”
Clearly, she hit the professor in the ego, “Miss Chapel, as you haven’t been in my presence more than fifteen minutes total, I cannot presume to know whether or not you are a ‘dumb chick’, but your actions have led the indicators to point in just that direction.”
“Assumption leads you to error, professor dear, just because you feel the need to slick back your hair doesn’t make you Elvis. And just because you’re a professor doesn’t make you smarter than me, just officially educated. Obviously, you are not doing so well in the female department, because no self-respecting woman would let her man go out the door
wearing that, that…what are you wearing? Is that a leisure suit? You are aware they have been out of style for thirty years? You definitely need some education in that department, and I need some assistance in school,”
Another more mischievous light dawned behind her dark eyes. “So, I propose a wager. I will pass your class, fair and square, with no less than an eighty-five average. If I lose, I will give you a make-over and help you land a lady- or at least make you better bait.”
The professor’s eyes grew wide with shock. He began to stammer, but Maggie cut him off at the pass, “And if I win…”
She paused for dramatic effect, “If I win, you will be my own personal tutor- free of charge- through the rest of my business classes until I graduate. What do you think?”
The professor’s mouth was hanging open, giving her the opportunity to check out his
beautiful teeth. Not bad. Not bad, at all. Just like buying a horse. She nearly giggled.
“Well? Have we got a deal?”
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• “Damn, damn, damn…, I mean, darn, darn, darn,” Maggie mentally chastised herself.
This is without context, so the line is wasted. We don’t know why she’s upset, or why she’s not allowed to say “damn.” And then you tell us what she just did, after the reader “hears” her do that. You’re in the position of telling the reader what they already know, always a bad idea.
And: no comma after an ellipsis.
• Stopping the nasty words was one of her New Year’s Resolutions
Who’s telling me this? You’re not in the story and she’s not thinking this. The fact that you’re there with her, in spite of not being a character, removes all realism. Do you have an explainer sitting next to you and talking to n invisible audience? No? Then Maggie can’t have one either—unless she recognizes and talks to that explainer.
The problem is that there are techniques for giving the reader the information you’re trying to impart, and making that information come from the character. Unfortunately, they don’t teach them in school. For that you need to do independent study.
• And to stop procrastinating was another, she reminded herself as she careened around the corner virtually on two wheels, nearly losing control of her Cooper Mini.
One sentence, one thought. In this we have her driving, we learn she’s speeding for some unknown reason, but that she isn’t a very good driver. We learn that she often procrastinates, but not about what. But what’s the subject of the sentence, and how does I relate to what she’s doing? I have not a clue, because this doesn’t come from her, it comes from you, and you’ve yet to tell me why she’s in the car.
Think about it. Maggie is going somewhere in a hurry. But instead of introducing the reader to what’s happening, whose skin they’re wearing, and where they are, you begin with information about what she decided on the last new year—an unknown distance away in time.
The real problem you’re facing is that you’re trying to make use of what you learned about writing in school, and sadly, those techniques are designed to write book reports, not books, because they’re non-fiction techniques. Fiction writers use an emotion, not fact-based method, that involves getting so deep in the character’s head that they can tell the reader about nothing the character isn’t sensing, thinking about or doing.
That way the reader knows what the character knows, at the time they notice it, and BEFORE then decide what to do next. That allows the reader to come up with their own advice for the character, and gives the feeling of uncertainty that allows the reader to connect, emotionally with the character.
So how do you learn those techniques? A good place to start is with Dwight Swain’s Techniques of the Selling Writer. It’s available on Amazon, and I’ve heard they stock it in B. Dalton bookstores.
Hope this helps.
Jay
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Wow, I really have enjoyed this story so far. The main character is beyond cute, and you do a nice job at showing who she is just in this short bit you have posted so far. The dialogue is good, and the story seems to be headed in an interesting direction. I look forawrd to reading more of this story. Have you written more already, or are you still working on it? Either way, good job, and keep writing :)
Um well considering I’m in college right now this portrayal does not describe it at all. Im sure there are professors that get anal, but not the first two class periods. And most of them don’t even bat an eye when someone walks in 5, 10, hell even 30 minutes late. Also no way a professor would talk to someone like that {I mean I suppose it’s possible but highly unlikely}, and definately no way they would let a student talk to them. Also considering the fact that you said the character was 29, her actions and her speech makes her sound as if she’s only maybe in her early twenties if even that.
This is a feel good story. One you should read on a day when someone has pissed you off and you really regret not telling them off. The girl in the story is very likeable and relatable and you managed to keep my attention the entire time very cute. I find this story very amusing and i think you most definitly meet your goals
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