Hey! I have been working on this for ages, then suddenly and violently fell out with it! I think i've seen it too many times, I now truly hate it. I'd really like to look at it through someone else's eyes to try and regain some positiveness about it.
I get like this about a piece of writing a lot; I'd love for someone to critique it for me so I feel like I can get back into it! Thanks.
This the first 'part', I guess.....
Jensen clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, curling a hand around the side of his face to block his eyes from the intruding early morning light. The pain at his temples bit sharply. He cursed their decision for a window booth at Splendido’s Café & Bar three hours ago. Across the street, the sun swelled behind Carmen's Cookie Cutters, spilling lukewarm morning heat over low rooftops and dented car bonnets.
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“What?”
Still wincing, Jensen rolled his narrowed eyes up to meet those of his only companion at the table.
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Manny's problem is. I mean, I can figure it out and I’ve known him for a lot shorter time than you.”
“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Girls are better at feelings.”
She wrapped her hand lightly over his head and tutted, “Sweeping generalisations will get you nowhere.”
He grunted in a non-committal fashion and went back to the newspaper, his headache lurking like a sulking child at the back of his skull. The nausea that rolled in his stomach was being only temporarily abated by keeping his eyes glued to the page beneath him. He’d read the same article on a prized football team’s crushing defeat several times; not once had he absorbed the details nor wanted to turn the page. Turning the page meant moving.
The pair had spent the morning nursing caffeine at the Splendido’s Café Bar since it had opened at five a.m. Time had been cruel to them and already it was eight, the dusty streets outside beckoning to them as the morning heat blossomed. Jensen rose his head gently, grimacing at the movement as he spoke, “How come Manny doesn’t have to come into school today, by the way?”
“He’s got a sick note.”
“How?”
“His guardian wrote it.”
“What guardian? He’s a complete orphan. More to the point, Carrie, he’s a pirate. How do pirates get sick notes written for them?”
Carrie chewed silently on her scrambled eggs and shrugged. Jensen groaned and rolled his head against the window, “Why is everything so bright? My head is killing me.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t see a doctor? You might have concussion. You cracked your head pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.”
They’d mutually agreed in their silent conversation on the way over to Splendido’s that they would not discuss the previous night’s events. Jensen wasn’t particularly fond of going over his own mistakes, and Carrie knew that all too well.
“Are you going to eat something? We’ve got about four and a half hours of assembly coming up and we’ll be standing.”
Carrie clattered her knife and fork down and took a swig of water from the pint glass she’d been given by the waitress.
“I’ll get a Snickers from the vendor,” Jensen grumbled.
“Come on then.”
She stood up from the table, fitting her jacket over her shoulders as she headed for the exit.
“Don’t forget Lesley,”
Jensen heaved himself up from the seat, “Stop giving my guns names,” he muttered, scowling. He leant downwards and picked up the sawn-off shotgun from the bench next to where he’d been sitting.
"On the tab," he said, indicating the table to the waitress. She made a noise of acknowledgement in his direction, not looking up from her book. Jensen slung the shotgun over his shoulder and followed Carrie out of Splendido’s.
Out on the pavement, the town was starting to shuffle into life. A dog walker hunched low in his coat, half-asleep as the dog leaned heavily against its lead, panting and choking in desperation to get somewhere, anywhere. Carrie tucked her fingertips inside the pockets of her jeans and dawdled as Jensen drew up beside her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking about how little I want to have to work at school today. How about we go for a nap in the common room instead of Psychology?”
Jensen shrugged, flexing his fingers around the handle of the gun, “Uh, yeah, if you want.”
“You not tired?”
“No. I just feel like there’s rat gnawing on my brain. Good enough excuse for a nap though.”
They started off in the direction of the school, a light breeze ushering them along. Carrie leaned her head against Jensen’s broad shoulder as they walked, using the opportunity to inspect her feet with her lowered eyes, “Ugh. I got Bug juice on my shoes. Fantastic.”
“That thing must have been full when we shot it. Never seen a Bug’s stomach empty that much after its been shot.”
“That’s a comforting thought. I’d rather it be Bug blood than its last digested meal. And put the gun away Jensen. It’s alright at Splendido’s but how are people on the street meant to know we’re Hunters and not psychos on a spree?”
“Where exactly do I stash a sawn-off shotgun on my person?”
She opened her mouth to reply but the frantic purr of her phone stopped her. She wrestled it from her pocket, lifting her head from Jensen’s warm shoulder to answer, “Hello?”
“Carrie! It’s me, it’s Kai. We kinda need your help.”
“Hi Kai. What’s going on?”
Jensen bristled visibly next to her, and she prodded him gently with a finger with a disapproving look.
“Well the ship’s having a crisis and our captain’s decided to solve it through hysteria.” Behind the voice there were shouts and yells of panic. Something smashed to the ground; furniture groaned against the floor.
“Why what’s happened? You’re not sinking are you? I thought Manny patched the hole up?”
“No, no. This is why we need you; we’ve got a pest problem. They’re everywhere. Bloody ghosts have taken over The Smokescreen. I’ve never seen such a burly crew of men scream like girls.”
Carrie heard the annoyance and frustration behind the calm in her friend’s voice. It was obvious he was the only one on the ship with some vestige of control. Carrie wasn’t surprised; she had started out her hunting career as Kai’s apprentice. He had only retired from that particular venture where their friend Manny had made him Head Cabin Boy of his newly acquired ship.
“Don’t you have any firepower on the ship?”
“Few shotguns. All empty. Can’t find any ammunition. And sabres aren’t so helpful against the deceased. Mind coming to help?”
“Sure. We’re on our way. We’re about five minutes from school; be with you then.”
“We’ll meet you upstairs.”
“Sure,”
Carrie snapped the phone shut and set off wordlessly in the direction of school.
“What’s going on?” Jensen groaned, following awkwardly with his shotgun tucked under his jacket, “I was looking forward to that nap. Let me guess. The Smokescreen sprang a leak? Well that’s not our problem, Manny’s the captain of that damn thing, and him and Kai can work it out themselves.”
Carrie gave her friend a benign smile and slid her hand into his, “It’s ghosts, actually. Sounds like a bit of an invasion. Come on. School’s not far away. We’ll be there in five minutes; we’ll be done in less than an hour. Then you can have your nap.”
“Still don’t see why Kai needs us. He knows how to kill a ghost.”
Carrie’s power-walk speed had brought them to the school gates, and as they passed through them her grip tightened on Jensen’s hand.
“Play nice with him,” she scolded, “And hurry up. It sounds like Manny’s having a coronary.”
Locker Room A might as well have been windowless for all the light the thick shutters let in. Two figures loafed lazily in the gloom, waiting in silence on the bulky tables in the centre of the quiet space. One was stretched out on the table top, fingers tracing a sweep of muscle under the skin of his hips. He rolled his tongue about his teeth, counting molars, staring blankly up at the low ceiling. The beech shutters created a yellowish tinge to the shadows that clung to his hair, the hollows at his collarbone, a curve of muscle in his arm. He let out a long sigh, tapping fingers gently against the tabletop. Once he’d finished feeling the jagged peaks and soft dips of his own teeth, he turned his head to the room’s other occupant.
“How long will they be?”
“Any minute now.”
“How do you know, Manny?”
“I’ll bet they’ll have spent the morning at Splendido’s. So they’ll only be ten minutes away.”
“And Jensen will be with her?”
“Yes. And if two could refrain from having a domestic, Kai, I’d be willing to give you a medal.”
Kai scoffed, but didn’t reply. Manny bit down on his lower lip and flitted his eyes around the corners of the room, bouncing up and down a little with barely contained energy. He sat with a rigid back and fingers scrambling on his lap, scratching at the hardened pads and the sore wicks at his nails.
When Carrie and Jensen did arrive, light from the hallway gushing in behind them, Manny was quick to his feet. He darted forward with an impish grin. Kai remained where he was.
“Hey guys. How’d it go last night? Heard it was a fast mover.”
Jensen grinned and levelled the shotgun with his head, “Awesome. Got it in the back of the head. Not so fast any more.”
Manny stared down the barrel, frowning into the darkness. His pirate hat inched quickly down his forehead, “Don’t do that,” he muttered eventually, pushing it away and lifting up the brim of his hat, “What if it accidentally went off? Put it away.”
“I don’t know, I might just keep it out. Might be something else worth clipping.” Jensen cocked it in direction of the tables.
“Get lost,” Kai snarled from where he lay, “I didn’t leave the crew in charge of themselves and an infestation of ghosts just to come and have an argument with you.”
Jensen opened his mouth to retaliate but Carrie pushed a firm hand against his chest and gave them both an irritated glower.
“Look. I’m tired. I’m in desperate need of a shower, and I have Bug juice on my foot. Whether I spend the rest of the day in a good or bad mood hands delicately in the balance. The last thing I need is for you two is to start butting heads. Now…Manny, show us the ghosts.”
“Sure,” Manny said, giving both his friends a cautious look, “Let’s go.”
Manny was smaller in height but his well-reputed infectious grin was enough to compensate. Wide eyes gave a cheeky glint and the impish smile permanently fixed under a floppy mop of brown hair gave the impression of a continually cheery disposition. He watched his two friends now, however, with a narrowed, calculating stare.
A moment later though, it had vanished and he grinned wide, eyes flaring with delight. He grabbed at his friend’s hand and snatched the shotgun from his loose grip.
“Whoa, where’d you get Lesley all cleaned up?! She looks amazing-”
“Don’t you start,” Jensen barked. Manny grinned and leveled the barrel with Jensen’s head, weighing the gun in his hand with appreciation.
“Don’t wave that thing around,” Jensen frowned, pushing it away.
“You can talk.”
“Yes well I know how to handle a gun. Put it down.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to accidentally blow his face off or anything,” Kai’s discontented grumble rose from behind Manny’s shoulder, “Not that it’d make much of a difference.”
A hefty pause squeezed the humour from the room instantly.
“Give me that gun back,” Jensen said, suddenly, holding out his hand.
Manny clutched the shotgun to his chest, eyes widening, “No. No. He’s the only good Cabin Boy I have. Don’t shoot him. Throw something at him. Yell at him. Just don’t shoot him, I need him to tell the crew what to do.”
“Give me the gun! If I can’t shoot him then I want to do something to him!”
Manny danced away from Jensen’s attempts to reach the gun, tripping over abandoned gym bags and loose trainers until he scrambled back the way in which he came.
Jensen lunged after him, disappearing into hot, quivering air.
“Jensen come back!” Carrie cried, slamming her locker door with a hand and a growl of annoyance. The shimmering disc of air fluttered for a moment then stilled. Locker Room A fell into silence. She glanced at Kai, “I can see why you left him.”
Kai smiled in response.
Carrie shuffled over, leaning heavily against Kai’s strong frame, resting her head against his shoulder, “This is ridiculous. You two need to get this sorted. I never knew two people so violent to one another after breaking up. Is there such thing as a Break-Up Counselor?”
“Probably. Not that I’d want to be stuck in the same space as Jensen for more than half an hour. I don’t know how you’ve been his friend for this long.”
“I guess I didn’t have the greatest screening process when we met. I was only in nappies at the time.”
Carrie brandished the skin on her pale wrist, showing the bruises that blotted around her slender veins.
“Look what that thing did last night. Horrible thing. Two foot of squirming, quick-moving venom. You’re lucky,” she concluded, pulling her sleeves down over her bruised wrists.
“Why?”
“Well you don’t have to go to school anymore. You gave hunting up. You’re a cabin boy on a pirate ship that spends most of its time in the docked in Jamaica. I mean…how easy do you have it?”
Kai shrugged, “I guess. But you can give up hunting if you want.”
“Try telling that to Jensen.”
Carrie crossed the room towards the place where Jensen and Manny had disappeared and extended a hand, her fingers touching warm, thick air that swallowed up the appendages with greedy, shuddering delight. She stepped forward, following the tips of her fingers into the hot wash of rippling atmosphere. Kai tripped in afterwards, ducking his head as he was sucked into blissful, comforting warmth.
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