I know they say when you introduce a character, show don't tell. I've always had a problem with that. This is the first time the antagonist is introduced - did I do it right? (My character is sitting in the gym, waiting for school to start)
Ryan was seventeen, a senior. Captain of the football and basketball teams, class president, golden boy. Everyone loved him. If they only new the real Ryan. Through the throng of students, I looked for him. Whenever he was out of sight, I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something bad was about to happen.
I found him, finally, on the other side of the gym. He was leaning back, relaxed in his Abercrombie and Fitch polo and artfully tattered jeans, surrounded by his friends. They were all watching him attentively as he told a story, always narrating with his hands. Probably explaining away the fresh bruise on his jaw, courtesy of the chief. Ryan told stories better than anyone Iรยขรขโยฌรขโยขd ever heard. He used delicate words to weave a bit of truth into any lie he told. Yes, he spilled orange juice this morning. What he doesnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt tell them is that the chief punched him for being loud. Instead, he says that he slipped on the juice and hit the table on the way down. A bit of truth corrects the lie. Makes it more believable. His friends sat in awe as they listened to him weave his story, never doubting his good รยขรขโยฌรลole boy charm. They didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt know him like I did.
As if he could feel me watching him, he looked up. His baby blue eyes met my green ones and he winked, giving me a crooked grin. My stomach twisted and my hands started to shake. Suddenly, I wanted to sink down, under the bleachers. Hide from his horribly knowing gaze. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and continued to smirk, knowing what he was doing to me. I tried to tell myself that I was safe, he couldnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt hurt me here. But that didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt stop me from shaking in fear. It wasnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt until his eyes released me that I let out the breath I didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt realize I was holding.
Abercrombie and Fitch is a store, like Hollister. I couldn't think of a better name, but I want him to be wearing expensive clothes. I know it doesn't work, but whatever for now.
Ryan was seventeen, a senior. Captain of the football and basketball teams, class president, golden boy. Everyone loved him. If they only new the real Ryan. Through the throng of students, I looked for him. Whenever he was out of sight, I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something bad was about to happen.
I found him, finally, on the other side of the gym. He was leaning back, relaxed in his Abercrombie and Fitch polo and artfully tattered jeans, surrounded by his friends. They were all watching him attentively as he told a story, always narrating with his hands. Probably explaining away the fresh bruise on his jaw, courtesy of the chief. Ryan told stories better than anyone Iรยขรขโยฌรขโยขd ever heard. He used delicate words to weave a bit of truth into any lie he told. Yes, he spilled orange juice this morning. What he doesnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt tell them is that the chief punched him for being loud. Instead, he says that he slipped on the juice and hit the table on the way down. A bit of truth corrects the lie. Makes it more believable. His friends sat in awe as they listened to him weave his story, never doubting his good รยขรขโยฌรลole boy charm. They didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt know him like I did.
As if he could feel me watching him, he looked up. His baby blue eyes met my green ones and he winked, giving me a crooked grin. My stomach twisted and my hands started to shake. Suddenly, I wanted to sink down, under the bleachers. Hide from his horribly knowing gaze. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and continued to smirk, knowing what he was doing to me. I tried to tell myself that I was safe, he couldnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt hurt me here. But that didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt stop me from shaking in fear. It wasnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt until his eyes released me that I let out the breath I didnรยขรขโยฌรขโยขt realize I was holding.
Abercrombie and Fitch is a store, like Hollister. I couldn't think of a better name, but I want him to be wearing expensive clothes. I know it doesn't work, but whatever for now.