You write yours so well, and it flows so fluently, just like lines in a film or a real-life conversation. Seriously, I'm impressed.
Aww, thanks, Emma. That means a lot.
And since I've been under the weather, I've had quite a bit of extra time on my hands. So I went ahead and wrote Chapter 3.
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“Hey, kiddo, how’s that arm?”
Sunny looked up from her laptop to see Alan, home from work, at the door of her room with a cup of hot chocolate and a sympathetic smile on his face.
“Okay, I guess,” she said, looking at the temporary cast on her right forearm. “At least it’s not my left hand. I can still draw and write. But it’s hard, typing with one hand.”
“I can type your essay for you, if you don’t think you can manage,” he offered, setting the mug on her wooden desk. “You just dictate, and I’ll type.”
“No, thanks, Alan,” Sunny declined. “I think I can manage. I only have another paragraph to go after this one.”
“You’re sure?” Alan asked, raising his eyebrows in concern.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
She would have let Alan type her essay for her, if he had been anyone else. Alan was the type of person who liked to paraphrase—if there was something that he thought should be slightly different, he would correct it. And Sunny did not want to hand in someone else’s work with her name on it. She was known for having a very guilty conscience, so if she ever did something that she felt to be wrong, she could go for days without sleep.
“Okay, then, I’ll leave you to it,” Alan said, starting to go into the hallway. As he reached the door, he turned and walked back over to her. “I’m so glad you’re alright. When Violet called, I imagined the worst, but, fortunately, you aren’t as badly off as I had thought.”
Sunny nodded. “The doctor kept telling me how lucky I was. But I still am not excited to wear this cast for six weeks.”
He gave her a sympathetic squeeze of the shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll heal nicely, as long as you’re careful.”
“Thanks, Alan,” she said. “Hey, do you know when Beatrice is coming back from practice?”
Alan referred to his watch and said, “Probably soon. Maybe 10 minutes at the most.”
“Cool.” Sunny turned her attention back to her essay as Alan exited her bedroom.
Sure enough, about 10 minutes later, Sunny heard the front door close loudly as Beatrice returned home for the day. Beatrice, Sunny’s adopted sister, had recently joined the basketball team at her new school, which had started a week earlier than Sunny’s. On days during which the team practiced, the parent of one of her teammates drove her home.
Sunny ignored the voices of Alan and her sisters that came from downstairs and focused on finishing her essay.
Just a few more sentences and I can rest, she thought.
As she finished typing the last sentence and began to proofread her paper, Beatrice appeared at her door.
“Hey, Sun,” Beatrice chirped to her older sister, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hi,” Sunny replied, not looking up from her computer.
Beatrice suddenly gasped, noticing the sling on Sunny’s arm.
“Holy crap! What happened to your arm?”
“Some drunk driver crashed into Violet’s car on the way home from school,” Sunny answered, closing her laptop. “Apparently, I fractured my radius in two places and severely sprained my ulna.”
“Jeez.” Beatrice ran her hand through her brown curls.
“I know. It’s a pain.”
“Sucks. So guess what happened today?” Beatrice said excitedly.
“Can you tell me later? I’m almost done editing this essay.”
“Fine. But you have to promise to listen.”
Sunny rolled her eyes. “I promise, Bea.”
“’Kay. Time to shower,” Beatrice said, and walked across the hall to her bedroom.
As usual, Klaus and Autumn came over for dinner. Klaus, Sunny’s only brother, worked downtown for a national historical research center. When Alan and Violet decided to move to Boston, Klaus and his girlfriend, Autumn moved as well. Luckily, Klaus’ company had a location in Boston, so he did not need to quit his job.
Since he worked downtown, Klaus was able to pick up ethnic foods from the various restaurants there. He always brought food for his sisters and Alan as well as for himself and Autumn, although on some nights Sunny would pull out a recipe from her old cooking phase and whip something up.
On this particular night, he brought Chinese food.
At the dinner table, while crunching away at her wontons, Sunny was asked, like most are on their first day of school, how her day went.
“Um, it was alright, besides my arm and all.”
Should I tell them about Jake? she wondered.
What they don’t know won’t hurt them, answered the voice inside her head.
“For how long did they say you’ll be in a cast?” inquired Autumn.
“Six to eight weeks, but I’m hoping for six. I have to go back to the hospital on Wednesday to get the real cast on.”
“That’s not fun. I broke my arm when I was twelve, about Beatrice’s age.”
“Turning thirteen in March,” Beatrice added quickly.
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry,” Autumn said.
“No, no, it’s my fault for interrupting. Go on.”
“Well, I was pretty angry because I broke the arm I write with, and I remember trying to get my younger brother to write my stories down for me. The only problem was that he was eight years old, and he couldn’t spell very well.”
Everyone laughed appreciatively.
Autumn was a writer, who, at 25, had already published two novels, of which she was very proud. She and Klaus had met in college four years ago, and had immediately grown very fond of each other. They both shared a passion for knowledge and understood the power of words.
Sunny smiled while listening to Autumn’s story, glad that the focus of the conversation had shifted. She remained quiet for the rest of the meal.
Sunny heard a soft tap at her door while she was sitting in bed, reading.
“It’s me,” Beatrice whispered.
“Come in,” Sunny replied.
Slowly the doorknob turned and Beatrice appeared in her short, pink nightgown. Although she enjoyed sports immensely, Beatrice liked to dress very femininely. Her wardrobe mainly consisted of little floral dresses and many ruffles.
“You promised we would talk,” Beatrice said, taking a seat at the foot of Sunny’s bed.
“Oh, yes,” Sunny said, gently resting her book on her bedside table. “Okay, so, what is it?”
“Today in Algebra, something amazing happened.” Beatrice enjoyed suspense and dramatic pauses. She liked when people begged her to continue.
For this reason, in addition to being on sports teams and in advanced math courses, she enjoyed being in school plays.
“What was so amazing?” Sunny asked.
“So this guy, Kaden, who is really really cute, asked me to go out with him!”
Wow, her third boyfriend. I haven’t even had one. Out loud, she replied, “Great!”
“I know, right? We’re going to the movies on Friday, if Violet lets me.”
“That’s really cool, Bea, but I’m really tired and my arm hurts. I should get to bed,” Sunny said, rubbing her eyes with her left hand.
“Oh, okay. ‘Night, Sun.” Beatrice tiptoed back to her room.
Sunny sighed. Beatrice was only twelve, and she seemed to get by in life so easily.
Why am I always so unlucky? she asked the world, wincing at the pain in her arm.
Across the city, in a small bedroom in a large house, a boy with an Avenged Sevenfold shirt was wondering the same thing.