1st 5 Pages November Workshop - Thompson

Name: Elizabeth Thompson
Genre: Young Adult Contemporary
Title: Being Whitney



SUMMER

Chapter 1

Whitney stepped out of the locker room and stopped short, her dad’s
voice freezing her steps.



“She’s going to our money maker one day. Stanford and then the WNBA.
That’s her path. When she’s out there, you can see it in her eyes.”



“I think that’s your eyes honey. You’re the one who can see it.”



Her dad glanced at her mom with a clinched jaw. Whitney winced; her
mom’s interventions never resulted in progress.



“Well I think we can all see it,” her dad continued to the stranger,
“Whitney knows it though. She knows where her talent lies. She may only be
fourteen, but she’s very aware this is where she can make something of herself.
It’s now or never.”



Whitney tried to take a deep breath, but found her chest too tight to
oblige. Worried she’d puke if she listened any longer, she stepped out and
joined her parents. More almost-praise filled her head, all tinged with
‘maybes’ and ‘ifs’ relying on “how bad she wanted it.” She wanted it of course,
but her dad wanted it even more.



Once inside the car she waited, begging the knot in her stomach to
stop.



Her dad started before they’d left the parking lot.



“Do you believe you played up to your potential today Whitney?”



“No.”



“Do you have another lame excuse you’d like to give me about why?”



“No. There are no excuses.”

“Then why the hell do you keep playing like shit? Why do you keep
wasting everything we’ve worked for?”



Whitney fed her dad all the lines she knew he wanted, but he didn’t
stop. Although the lectures became commonplace around seventh grade, their
intensity continued to grow. Usually Whitney could handle them, he was just
trying to help, but today the stabs felt covered in salt. By the time they hit
the freeway Whitney’s eyes were full, leading to her mom’s interjection.



“Matt, I think she understands what you’re saying.”



“Obviously she doesn’t! And she doesn’t need you babying her. She needs
to understand her future relies on her success on that court.”



Whitney waited for her mom to back down, like always, but she didn’t.



“You’re ruining her Matt. I told you I wouldn’t put up with this
anymore and I’m serious.”



Whitney’s dad ignored the threat, until it was too late. Three weeks
later his look of shock mirrored Whitney’s, on opposite sides of the tinted
glass window of the SUV Whitney’s mom drove her away in.



Whitney’s mom billed it as the most humanitarian rescue mission in
history. Her dad billed it as the single greatest mistake her mom would ever make,
in regards to Whitney’s life and her own. Whitney just cried. Her friends, her
court, her house, her entire being, they were Mountain View, California. Until
they weren’t.



It took eight hours to strip Whitney of everything she’d ever known.
They pulled into their new town as the sun set behind the water tower, standing
tall over tiny Millersburg, Oregon – population 4,237. They crawled through the
two-lane main street, Whitney acutely aware of the lack of anything passable as
a store she’d ever be caught dead in, and turned at the second, of two,
stoplights. Quickly the small neighborhoods of fifties houses gave way to a
newer development, which gave way to farm land. They drove into the country,
chasing the sun, passing only one car on the six mile drive. Whitney stared
into the green landscape, unable to comprehend that real people lived in this
desolate place.



Their new home set back off the road, on a small hill appearing
glorious in a way Whitney hadn’t imagined a century-old farmhouse could. Beyond
the house stretched field after field and in the near one a tractor made
perfectly straight passes across the tan grass. Whitney followed her mom
inside, quickly found her room, tucked into the front of the second floor, and
returned her attention to the farmer. She watched until he reached the last
row, parked the tractor near a beat-up old truck and climbed down. Only then
did Whitney see that the ancient old man she’d pictured inside the enclosed
cab, was actually a bare-chested, blonde haired teenage boy. His jeans hugged
his hips perfectly as he climbed into the truck and drove off leaving Whitney
with a little hope for this foreign land.



FALL



Chapter 2



School started a week later, by which point Whitney still understood
nothing about the foreign town she now called home. She truly felt like she’d
moved to a different country in which, she was now an intruder.



Working her way across the yellow lawn in front of the school, she
heard kids greet each other, warmly reminiscing about their summer. They talked
about afternoons fishing at Bond’s Pond, stargazing for hours in Jasmine’s far
field, wild bonfires at Dylan Johnson’s house and weekends spent riding ‘quads’
at the beach. Whitney shook her head; nothing at all made sense.



Outside Whitney had felt invisible to the hundreds of kids around her,
now however, navigating the long hallways, she felt all eyes fall on her. The
entire school seemed to watch her with purpose, shamelessly sending more
judgment and scrutiny her way than she had ever known, and she’d been in school
with the epitome of mean girls since first grade. Up ahead she spotted four
girls, wearing clothes no one in California would be caught dead in, cowering
from everyone who walked by, except for Whitney. As Whitney approached they
turned and stared. Whitney looked away quickly, unsure how she was a spectacle
in this world where they wore wranglers with chew circles on the butt pockets,
drove huge trucks followed by plumes of dark smoke and apparently, didn’t do
their makeup or hair. She ducked into the nearest bathroom and checked her
reflection. In front of her she marveled at how exactly the same she looked
while feeling so completely different.



Whitney moved silently towards first period, avoiding eye contact at
all costs, and slid in next to the most normal looking girl. She spent most of
the period oblivious to the muttering of the teacher and instead engrossed in
people watching. A very pretty girl with long blonde hair curled to perfection
and carrying herself with a confidence that demanded attention, and three
decently attractive boys, with cute jeans joined the normal looking girl right
before the bell and while still country, they at least looked human.



With class winding down the teacher, who looked exactly like Dru from
Despicable Me, retreated to his desk, and first day chatter filled the room.
Whitney, though, sat alone and awkward, highly aware of the whispers
surrounding her.



Finally one of the cute boys turned her way. “Hey new girl?” he said,
“Where’d you move from?”



Whitney turned around cautiously. “California.”



“Awesome! Do you surf?” he asked. His buddies all smiled.



“No,” Whitney replied.



“Do you know anyone famous?”



“No.”



“But you’re rich, right? You look rich.”



“Like everyone in California is rich dude,” his friend threw in.



Whitney struggled to understand if they were serious. “Not really.”



The bell rang, and the trio of boys headed for the door. “She’s got to
be rich,” she heard them say on their way.



“Ignore them,” the normal girl said. “We all do.”



Whitney smiled.



“I’m Ivy, and this is Brynley.” The pretty girl smiled and swung aside
her perfect hair.



“I’m Whitney.”



The girls smiled briefly before catching up with the boys in the hall
and leaving Whitney to wander towards where she thought the science classes
were held.