1. The Party

Meet Richie Harris. At this part in the story he's starting his last year of high school and wants to make it the best he can, with no clue what that actually entails.

Why me? No, seriously - why me? I’m a nice, supportive person; I’m not some hateful curmodgeon with a lesson to learn, I’m just an unsuspecting guy who didn’t want to feel alone anymore. Why does something like this happen to me? In retrospect, it probably happens to a lot of people and no one likes to talk about it. Somehow I wouldn’t doubt that. But why you? For that matter, why us? Of all the lives the universe could have chosen to intertwine, of every lonely soul out there, why did the two of us have to be thrown together? Why did it have to feel so right? When we first met, I had no idea you would become a permanent part of my life. Not only did you do that, but you changed it, whether either of us wanted that or not. After everything that’s happened between us, I can confirm two truths of life. The first is that love is beautiful evil; love is the most painful of joys, the sweetest-feeling knife wound in your side and the most infuriating blessing you could come across. The second of thing all of this has taught me is that time should be cherished. That may seem like an obvious and cheesy message, but it’s true; we take every moment for granted until we’re sad and alone, remembering the times we wish we could go back and live through again. But we can never go back to how things were now, can we?

I want you to know more than anything that I never meant to cause you any pain, and I would never want you to be hurt the way you were. Honestly, I don’t know what I could say to make everything easier. I don’t know what to say, but I wish I did. I wish you didn’t have to feel this bad because of me, or anything else for that matter. I wish things never changed from those days, those times we can never go back to...

September

It was seven thirty by the time we arrived outside Jenny Allen’s house. I could see the line of people trailing out onto the sidewalk as I stared from the window of the passenger seat. The sun had just about finished setting while we spent a good five minutes driving up and down the block looking for parking. I realized I was probably right to assume everyone I knew from school and their mom had shown up.

“Jenny’s family is loaded!” Travis commented from the backseat as Theo and I removed our seatbelts.

“It’s crazy her parents let her project X the place whenever she asks.” Theo added.
“Yo guys,” Travis lamented as he hoisted his guitar case out of the car. “This is our last fall party.”

“It’s senior year, Trav,” I replied. “Our last everything is coming soon.”

The three of us lined up in front of Theo’s fancy sportscar and gawked at the Allens’ enormous mansion of a house. It was basically a giant white fortress complete with a tall gate and a rhinestone path to the door, leading past a luxurious granite fountain on the lawn. It easily put all three of our raggedy houses to shame, and a part of me felt like cops were going to come out of nowhere and interrogate us just for being there. Admittedly, I would’ve felt uneasy in such an environment if it weren’t for the company of my two best friends.
When I met Theo, we were both scrawny, awkward freshmen, and of course bonded immediately. Over the years, however, Theo got taller, got muscles, got dreadlocks, got a pantheon of girls who’d give up a lung for a chance at his penis, and got a place on the football team that meant stardom amongst his peers and scholarships coming in every week. Since freshmen year, I got… Well, older. And a little taller. I wouldn’t say I stopped being skinny, but my body grew to a point where it’s not immediately noticeable anymore. But hey, at least the girls at school thought I was funny. They weren’t generous with their vital organs or anything, but they thought I was funny.
Travis wasn’t as cool and popular, but he had his own set of attributes to admire: musical talent and an undying compulsion to have a good time. Though his wild and reckless behavior got us into trouble plenty times over the last three years, once you come to expect it, it’s kinda just part of his charm.

We walked past the gate and up the path, we could hear loud music blasting from the inside and indistinct voices screaming with excitement, Theo taking charge among the three of us, leading the way up the porch and ringing the bell. The melodic sounds of bells floated in from the other side.

The huge door swung open, and in its frame stood Jenny Allen, with a welcoming smile on her face and a fancy glass full of something special in her hand.

“Theo, you came!” she called with a bubbly and mildly tipsy-sounding excitement, ignoring the presence of Travis and I.

“Of course,” Theo replied smoothly. “You remember Trav and Rich, right?”

She shrugged and took another sip from the glass, opening the door all the way and standing to the side.

“Make yourself at home!” she said, seemingly disappearing back into the party around us. Theo stepped in first, Travis followed, gawking like a tourist in Time Square or something, and lastly I entered, closing the door everyone else seemed to forget about.

The whole house was dimly lit with strobes and disco lights spread about, crawling with what seemed like hundreds of teenagers and some that looked a little old to be attending a high school party. Dance music shook the walls and smells of incense and spilled alcohol hovered in nearly every corner. I glanced over to Theo, and in glimpses of flashing light I could see he looked calm, collected and completely at home here, being the social god he was. Travis’ demeanor was more alert and mischievous. The three of us met eyes for a moment. The music was too loud for any of us to hear each other, but a single group head nod communicated everything. Mission statement: split up, turn up, then meet up at the same spot in a half hour. My two comrades went off in separate directions and disappeared into the crowds of people everywhere. I looked around and sighed, realizing I probably should have figured out a destination.

Now alone in the sea of people, I busily swam to what appeared to be a cleared out living room resurrected as a dance floor. It was filled with kids from school popping and locking and whipping and nae nae-ing and whatever the heck else they do nowadays. I slid by and leaned against the wall. Anyone who knows me knows I can’t dance to save my life, being that I have the rhythm of a deaf person having a stroke. So in situations like these I usually opted to fade into the background in such a way that everyone noticed me there, but couldn’t notice right away that I wasn’t joining in the movement. Jordan Stevens, one of Theo’s football teammates, came strutting by. He was wearing his varsity jacket and had a can of beer in his hand as he energetically two-stepped.

“Aye, Richie!” he extended his free hand to the side.

“What’s good, bruh?” I responded as I slapped it. He took a heavy swig from his can and rejoined the crowd of dancing teens. See? Noticed but not noticed; mission accomplished.

Any mellow feeling of self enjoyment I’d managed to build up in the past few minutes was swiftly shattered as I glanced through the crowd and saw her: skin soft and radiant, golden hair flowing ever so gracefully, a smile like an abstract painting and eyes like an endless sky. Screw my life! I quickly jumped back and disappeared behind the corner. That blond-haired beauty was Cecilia-Jane Wellings, aka the girl I was convinced I was in love with Junior year, the reason I went into that summer vacation as the heartbroken laughingstock of Midtown High.

I realized CJ was right up there among Jenny Allen as one of the most popular girls in school and of course she’d be at a party like this. I mentally scolded myself for poor anticipation skills as I froze in place; Maybe she were like a T-Rex and wouldn’t notice me if I just stood really still. Unfortunately, seconds into my Jurassic Park-based protocol, I was pushed bumped into by some wasted guy doing a played out variation of the robot.

“Look where you’re goin’!” he called angrily. I turned away from him to keep moving and when I looked back, CJ was looking right at me. Direct eye contact. I pretended not to see her and continued rushing out of the room. Smooth, Richie.

Well, so much for hanging out at the dance floor. I made my way down the hallway, past a guy and a girl posted against the wall making out like there was no tomorrow, and arrived at the kitchen. It was the only decently lit place in the house I’d seen thus far, and from here the music wasn’t too loud to hear myself think. I looked at the big, silver fridge and the cluster of coolers on the floor surrounding it. Maybe I could go for a drink.

I leaned over and opened the fridge, scanning through it and the contents of each cooler. Beer, beer, cheap champagne, beer, some stuff I’d never heard of, more beer. Is soda just something we don’t do anymore? I shut the fridge and closed each cooler in disappointment. I guess another one of the things that separates me from all of my friends is I’m not one for being intoxicated; be it alcohol or any other substance. The idea of losing my motor skills, having my judgement impaired, then not remembering any of what happens the following day never seemed too appealing to me. I left the kitchen and continued my exploration. Passing a room full of senior guys heavily engaged in beer pong, I decided to see what was going on upstairs.

Making my way through the dark hallway, I followed the sound of melodic strumming from an acoustic guitar, along with an all too familiar voice warming up, followed by the sound of girls squealing. I walked up to the door where it was coming from, and gently cracked it open, peering in as discreetly as I could.

It appeared to be an unoccupied guest room of some kind, now full of partygoing teens, specifically a bunch of girls and one Travis. He sat on the bed, eyes closed and shirt halfway unbuttoned as he expertly played his prized guitar and sang his heart out to the audience of his adoring peers. It was a song I’m sure he’d written himself, full of “baby”s and “ooh girl”s and every excuse for him to drag out his high falsetto. Every female in the circle was thoroughly entranced, and his voice was practically drowned out by the sound of waterfalls. Our friend, the showoff.

In another minute or two, Travis finished his song and opened his eyes, doing his best sexy grin for the ladies as the collective applause came. Still in R&B singer mode, his gaze fixed on the one girl in the circle who wasn’t on the verge of fainting. She was one of the faces I didn’t know from school. She had dark black hair in a long ponytail, matchingly dark eyeshadow surrounding unimpressed green eyes under thick-framed glasses. Light freckles on her cheeks decorated her somewhat pale complexion, and the unbuttoned plaid shirt she wore over her black tank top matched her plaid, generic schoolgirl skirt.

“Aye,” he said, pointing to Ms. Glasses-And-Ponytail. “What does the prettiest girl in the room think of that song?.”

The girl raised a brow, for a second looking mildly flattered by his compliment before shrugging and straightening pushing her glasses up with her finger as she replied.

“She thinks you should focus less on looking cool and more on hitting the right key.”

The circle around him suddenly switched from cheering him on and erupted into a unified ‘ooh!’.

“Well hey,” the girl said, as if suddenly realizing the effect she just had. “You have a good voice, just work on it.”

I’ll leave him to his bruised ego. I closed the door, still confident no one had noticed me, and made my way back downstairs, this time opting to check Jenny Allen’s giant backyard.

Said backyard was a in the midst of a full on bonfire, tiki torches lined against the fence for light and a huge fire pit in the center of the action as more teens danced and trotted around. I stepped over an empty pizza box discarded on the ground and made my way into the calamity.

“Yo, Rich!” Theo’s voice boomed through the crowd. I turned to see him warming up by the fire in a lawn chair, with a pretty girl I’d never seen before sitting in his lap.

“They got marshmallows or something here?”

“No idea,” I replied. “But there’s no soda.”

The girl in Theo’s lap whispered something in his ear. I stood there awkwardly, pretending not to notice.

“Aye,” he said to me. “You seen anybody we know yet?”

“Just Jordan.”

“Ooh, there goes the second.”

He motioned behind me.

“Grant, would you just stop!” cried CJ’s voice. I winced. But wait, Grant? I turned around to see her being followed out of the house by the tall, blond haired, ill-mannered soontobe frat boy known as Grant Peters, the basketball player CJ started dating less than a week after impaling my heart with a stake. CJ was just about as angry as I’d ever seen her, but Grant persisted with a creepy, alcohol-slurred laugh.

“Jesus Christ…” I thought aloud, as Theo laughed.

“Why can’t we just have a good time?” Grant said sleazily, trailing his hand up CJ’s thigh. She swatted it down forcefully.

“There you two go again,” Theo said to me as if the ex lovers could hear. “Come on, CJ, be the bigger person. Walk away.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to back off!?!” CJ yelled.

I didn’t have all the details, but apparently she had dumped him toward the end of Summer break, on account of his getting drunk and causing scenes at parties (go figure) as well as cheating, lying, and generally being a dick. Can you guess who wouldn’t have done all that stuff to her? Not that I was bitter toward him or anything, though. It’s also equally preposterous to think I found the way he treated her to be fitting karma for leading me on last year.

“Amazing how all this time you still never changed.” CJ yelled, this time even more serious. By now the backyard’s party had pretty much paused and attention shifted to the yelling not-couple as everyone unanimously eavesdropped while acting like they weren’t.

Theo sighed. “Guess no one else is gonna say something.” he said with a shrug, patting his new friend on the butt as an indicator for her to get up. She complied without a word, and he straightened his jacket as he walked over to the fight scene unfolding before us. Grant kept laughing and pushing up on CJ until Theo slid in between them and firmly stood his ground.

“How is this your business?” Grant demanded. Theo spoke with a firm bass in his voice.

“We were chilling and you made it all of our business. Maybe you should go.”

Grant scoffed and proceeded to try and step past Theo. Theo grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back, and Grant’s expression darkened. Just then, everyone in the backyard went from socializing in separate groups to forming the quickest ‘Let’s watch a fight!’ circle you’d ever see around Theo and Grant. CJ took the opportunity to slide out and away from them.

“Go ahead,” Theo said, without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. “Do something.”

Grant looked around at everyone, then back to Theo. As if the first bit of logic had finally slipped through the cracks in his boozed-up mind, he sucked his teeth and turned around.

“Forget CJ,” he groaned. “She’s stuck up now, anyway.”

And with that he slipped back into the house. The circle of spectators gave a collective groan of disappointment at the lack of a fight before resuming the party festivities.

“Sorry to interrupt the party.” CJ said to me. I nearly jumped as I turned to see her right next to me. Ugh! I was too distracted by the non-fight to notice her sneak up on me.

“CJ,” I began, trying my best not to sound awkward, though I’m sure I failed. “Long time, no see, huh?”

She gave that same innocent-looking smile that drew me in Junior year.

“Yeah,” she replied. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, good,” I lied, struggling to avoid eye contact. “Just, you know, holding up, I guess.”

“Richie,” she said, her tone shifting to a more serious one. “Maybe we should talk.”

“We should?”

“I know we haven’t really talked about what happened last year…”

“Why would we, it’s not like I’m a living person with emotions or anything.”

“You haven’t really talked to me since. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were avoiding me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘avoiding’…”

“It’s true. You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re cutting me off? We used to be so close, now you won’t even talk to me.”

I sighed and gave up trying to run from her with my eyes. I looked up and locked eyes with her, staring head on into those beautiful blue ones that saw right through me.  

“I miss you,” she continued. “I don’t want to have to lose a friend over something dumb that’s in the past now.”

Dumb? In the past? Easy to say when you’re the one that did it, huh? Her words sounded so honest, her voice sincere, her eyes reaching out with vulnerability. No way was I falling for that crap again. I took a step back from her, unable to find the right words to say. I felt a vibration in the pocket of my jeans. Perfect timing. I pulled out my phone and read the text message I had just received.

Travis: Wher u at?

Never before had I been so thankful for a drunk text. I looked back up at CJ and motioned toward me phone.

“I gotta go find Travis.” I explained, placing the phone back in my pocket and spinning around. Before I could take a step away, I felt CJ’s gentle hand grip my arm..

“Richie…” she said, almost impatiently. I turned to face her again.

“Look, CJ,” I began before I knew what I was going to say. “I don’t think this is gonna work. Me and you being friends, I mean; You did what you did, there’s no way to just erase it, so let’s not pretend, alright? Good luck with Grant.”

I pulled my arm free and walked away before she could respond, making my way back inside of the house. That may have seemed a little harsh without full context, but when you’ve had the experience I did, when you know CJ like I do, you know it’s pointless to get caught up talking to her. She may play the sweet and friendly act, but underneath it she only speaks to mislead and manipulate. I’d let her sweet-talk me into letting myself open up once, I wasn’t about to let her in again while I was still doing damage control.

Trying guess where Travis might be, I made my way back to the dancefloor. My suspicions were confirmed as I saw him with a beer can in his hand, spazzing out to dubstep.

“Yo, Trav,” I called, shaking his arm. “What do you need from me now?”

He turned to me and smiled. “The sexy girl from your art class is here.”

“Denise?” I asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, man. You know her, I need advice.”

“No, you need to not say anything to her.”

“Why not? She’s super hot.”

“She’s also super lesbian. Try again, Trav.”

He gave a look of disappointment.

“You know,” I said as I guided him over to my spot against the wall I previously made. “Not every social interaction has to lead to sex. Why can’t y’all just go to a party and not try to bang everything that moves? Just have fun and dance, maybe?”

“What’s got you all mad?” Travis moaned as if I’d killed his buzz.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Can’t we just chill out for a while?”

“Forgwt that,” Travis said, downing another sip from his can. “We’re seniors now, Rich. This is the beginning of the end. No time to ‘chill out’ we gotta live! We gotta experience!”

The alcohol was making Theo almost poetic.

“You’ve had enough.” I said, confiscating his can.

“That’s your problem, man,” he continued, as if reaching a sudden higher understanding. “You’re always worrying about the next day. Always scared of messing up. Either that or you’re always hung up on the past. You gotta learn to live in the moment, man. Cuz if you don’t, the best parts of your life are gonna go by before you know it.”

I paused, not quite sure what to say. The drunken expression on Travis’ face and the dazed look of confusion in his eyes made it clear he probably didn’t know what he had just said either, nor would he remember it come tomorrow morning, but for some reason that didn’t make it hit me any less deep.

“Ever hear of personal space?” an angry girl’s voice boomed through the party, cutting off my train of thought and interrupting this session of ‘Motivational Speeches with Travis’. We both nosily turned to peer through the darkness and crowds to see where it was coming from, and I’d realized I heard that voice once before. I couldn’t exactly place it though, that is until we spotted her.

Across the room stood the girl with the glasses and the green eyes and the dark hair braided into a ponytail; the girl from the music room earlier, unimpressed with Travis’ song. The new girl, whose name I still didn’t know. She stood with a hardened scowl as Grant Peters all but felt up who I assumed was her friend, one of the popular girls from school. She struggled to push away Grant’s arms, his big, dumb, drunk smile unfading. Ms. Glasses-and-Ponytail vocally protested him too, but couldn’t do much against the hulking, athlete.

“Be right back.” I said to Travis, handing him back his can and patting him on the shoulder.

“What are you gonna go do?” he called, coming to his senses.

“Live in the moment.”

I walked over to the two girls and their blond-haired nuisance. I don’t know what it was that came over me, but my body had been set to motion and it wasn’t slowing down.

“Yo Grant!” I called out. Both girls’ eyes shot to me in surprise before Grant finally turned around to face me. He looked at me for a brief second, then focused his attention back to the girls. Without a second of hesitation or forethought, I felt my left hand jolt out and reach to his shoulder. As I pulled back and spun him around I felt my other hand c**k back, then rocket forward with force that seemed to come from nowhere. In a second, the dancefloor was filled with gasps and hollering as Grant Peters lay unconscious on the ground.

“Aye, Richie,” Travis cried out cheerfully. “That’s my boy.”

Before he could utter another word of enthusiasm the beer he drank resurfaced, along with everything else he ate, all over the floor where he stood. High school parties, always unpredictable.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think of the story so far. How do you like the setting (which will eventually change) and the characters? And where do you think the story's going to go from here?

Reviews

[Yurie Lee]

I think this has potential~ You did a really nice job with the fluency, it has a pretty amusing voice~

But there are things that I have to point out.

There is a sentence that goes something like "being that I have the rhythm of a deaf person having a stroke" And I didn't know what that meant. There are moments like this where I am thrown off by the wording. But then I got the jist of it. But I mean...I know what you're going for with some of this wording but it kind of sounds awkward and unnatural.

But yeah, otherwise super~!

And I like reading in a guy's perspective, it's really amusing~ :D

[Sora The Egotistical]

Well deaf people can't hear music and when you have a stroke you convulse and move spastically, so a person who can't hear music who is having crazy spasms probably doesn't have much rhythm. Then again, if you have to explain a joke it's probably not as funny as it was in your head lol more to come soon

[Davidgeo]

Me Ma says I'm the president of Batman Fantasy Camp.

An actual legit critique of this would take me at least three hours.

That's probably a really good thing. (when I finish a few more chapters I'll be more specific if can and if it warrants it... i'm pretty sure it's going to warrant it)

[Sora The Egotistical]

Awesome, I'm looking forward to your return!

[Sora The Egotistical]

Did you ever read any further?

[Cherrie]

you have talent, keep it up :)

[JayG]

In general, I’m impressed. Damn few on this site can handle first person without it sounding like a lecture. It needs tightening though, because there are a lot of POV breaks, and there are some viewpoint issues.

Some things that jumped out at me:

• Why me? No, seriously - why me? I’m a nice, supportive person;

At this point the reader has not a clue of who’s speaking, or what motivated them to speak. So they have no context. Given that, asking the reader a question without them knowing what prompted it is pretty much a guaranteed rejection.

This entire section is someone the reader knows nothing about talking about things for which they have no context. Nor have you given them reason to WANT to know it. As such it’s data to no purpose. In the words of James H. Schmitz , “Don’t inflict the reader with irrelevant background material—get on with the story.”

• That’s what happens when you switch to contact lenses to start senior year off differently, and you can’t get used to them; not only does it take forever to put them in, but at any moment during gym class’ intense basketball one could go flying out and you’re left to semi-blindly stumble to your locker at the end of the period and go for your spares.

Unless this is a critical plot point cut it, because it serves no plot, character development, or scene setting function. If it is necessary but not soon, why open with it and delay the arrival of action?

• “Sure thing,” I replied, as we exchanged dap per routine.
Aside from the fact that it’s implied, the last three words make it seem mindless ritual rather than friendship based.

• He was referring to my car, a used one I’d gotten for my seventeenth birthday. My uncle was so convinced that I’d crash my first car that he got me one where it wouldn’t matter. And per usual throughout my childhood, the results of his cheapness only affected my life; that car broke down the second day of senior year.

This is 100% unnecessary backstory info-dump. The paragraph could be replaced by: “Yeah, and my uncle’s too cheap to have it fixed.” Stopping the story for a lecture, here, kills all sense of realism.

• “Was I invited?”
This is a legitimate usage, but to avoid the feeling of characters simply lobbing dialog back and forth like a softball, you might want to place an ellipsis and a space before the text, to show that he thought it over and was almost afraid to ask. And drop the last word, it’s implied in the exchange.

• I was actually kind of excited.

First, what does “actually” add? In speech, adverbs are often what I call demonstration words, with how you say them serving to convey emotion, like, “I turned, slooowly.” But on the page they’re just words, so where they’re used as demo words drop them. Next, what does the entire sentence add that isn’t inherent to the next line? Let implication work for you.

• What I lacked in academics my Senior year I was ready to make up with a more prolific social life.

This is a lecture. Why does it matter? If he does, we notice. So why tell? Every place where the narrator explains anything, you stop entertaining because he stops acting. So always ask yourself if it’s necessary information, and necessary right there, in his view.

• The cool thing about having gym class seventh period was that I was now a senior, and got to be done classes a period earlier, meaning after the high note of physical education, I was done for the day.

Another lecture. We know he went to gym class because that’s where we meet him. And do we care that as a senior he has one less period? If it doesn’t matter to him in that moment it’s trivia from the author.

• I was walking Theo to his last class and we were having typical discussions about girls and sports and grades and whatever, and as we rounded a corner I saw her:

Why does the reader care, in the slightest, what the conversation that’s not important enough to report was about? What matters is where they are and what happened. The rest serves to slow the narrative and kill momentum.

In addition, I’m confused. The last sentence seemed to say he was done for the day but his friend wasn’t? They’re both seniors, so clarify.

• skin soft and radiant, golden hair flowing ever so gracefully, a smile like an abstract painting and eyes like an endless sky. Crap!

Since she isn’t named, the reader assumes that he’s seeing her for the first time.

Next, an abstract smile doesn’t look like a smile to admire, Have you ever SEEN abstract art? Here’s the smile you gave her:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/cf/f5/bb/cff5bbeacc25850e70226200d452d702.jpg

And though he might find her skin radiant, he cannot tell that her skin is soft (but isn’t it all, in any case) without having touched it. And since we think he’s seeing her for the first time, and don’t know their history…

But in general, you have just told the reader, “This is the girl he’s going to end up with!” It may be that he won’t, but it’s the impression the reader will have.

• I quickly jumped back and disappeared behind the corner.

Here’s where you boot me out of the story, for several reasons.

1. Can you slowly jump? No. You need to look at every adverb and trim any that aren’t necessary.
2. He didn’t disappear, he only moved back, and he has not a clue of if she saw him before he did. The fact that he doesn’t even wonder, or worry, says we’re not in his POV, the action is being explained by the narrator
3. He just became someone not worth following as a protagonist. He’s hiding from a girl? Why? You know, but your reader doesn’t. So they guess. And if they guess it’s because she dislikes him he seems an idiot. If it’s because he’s shy, he’s an idiot. If it’s because she’s angry at him, he’s an idiot. He’s a high school senior, for God’s sake. If he can’t handle a meeting with a girl he finds attractive, even if they have a history, he’s not worthy of your reader’s attention. Your reader has to in some way admire the character or they’ll stop reading.

And it doesn’t matter what he did last year because the reader knows only what he did in that moment—and will judge him based on what THEY KNOW, not on things yet to be learned.

• “Hey, Theo!” she said with a wave and a warm grin.

Sorry, but our protagonist is cowering around the corner and can’t see this. If we’re in his POV and in first person we can know nothing he doesn’t.

• I breathed a sigh of relief. Theo gave me a questioned look that made me feel even more pathetic.

Theo is around the corner. So either he comes out or Theo looks for him. And in any case, who wants to follow the life of someone pathetic?

• “What class is this you took anyway?” I asked as we neared his room.

After three weeks he doesn’t know? And, given that he knows it’s his classroom, what purpose does the last three words serve, other than to make him seem incapable of expressing himself clearly?

• Theo never sang a note in his life,

They met as freshmen and he knows that? Naaa. But forget that. It’s music appreciation, not band class. You’re treating your protagonist as a game piece and moving him around in ways you hope the reader will find interesting, in support of your plot needs, without asking him for input.

But put yourself into his persona and of course he knows what classes his friend takes. And in his viewpoint, when he sees the girl he reacts to her, and thinks about her and how he feels about her. So given that he’s our avatar we should know of those feelings and thoughts.

He, like you and I, has reasons for what he does, and bases his actions on analysis. But you provide after the fact explanations. So we don’t know why he acts till it’s explained, which is NOT his viewpoint, it’s that of the storyteller. And it matters not at all if the story teller is you or you pretending to be him at some time after the events, talking about it. In his viewpoint he’s noticing and reacting, not explaining. For him it’s “now” and he’s making constant decisions and evaluations. It’s what makes him him.

To see the effect of his viewpoint on a reader’s perception of the situation, as against someone else’s, try this article:
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/2011/09/22/the-grumpy-writing-coach-8/

In general, you need to dig deeper into the tricks of viewpoint. This article may clarify.
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php

And if it makes sense, you might want to pick up the book the article was condensed from. It’s filled with such tricks.

I’m sorry my news wasn’t better, but bear in mind that nothing I said has to do with your talent and potential. It’s all about the tricks of the trade—the learned part of the profession.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

[gentlekindness]

Good writing. Keep up with your writing. It is good for you.
Also experiment with some genres that are not your usual niche...like poetry and quotes.
Blessings,
Annie💕💃

[Meeks]

I give critique. PM me if you are offended by this, and I'll remove it.

Beginning is slow. It's a collection of no plot whatsoever and monotone thoughts by a character we don't know or care about all thrown into one big paragraph, which alone seems to scream 'eyes beware'.
Ask yourself if this is really necessary in your story.

The football captain at first seems stuck up, but later offers to drive both. And he is actually friendly to them. Change the original impression

The first scene isn't too necessary for the plot either. All that happens is that the main characters avoids CJ, which is described during the party anyway.

Your turning this into a Trueman show. Only the main character has a single fear (at least. Try adding some more goals for him), and everyone else is flat. They could as well be actors trying to make the world real for the main. Except that isn't whay you're going for, each character should be independent.

There's a bare hint at a plot. He's going to fall in love with the new girl, and then she's going to leave or dump him or something. Don't make it that predictable.

Overall, very advanced style. Keep writing, it can only get better.

[Sora The Egotistical]

Thanks a lot! All of that was really helpful and will be taken into consideration upon revision. Also I wasn't aware how predictable he and the new girl are... I mean damn, you figured it out right away. Applause. But between you and me she's not exactly going to dump him, I'm not that lazy haha what will happen is something far more unexpected and complex.

(PS I'm still working on your book the Human Theory and plan to post up a review soon, hopefully it won't take too long)