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Character Sketch

  • Lillian Pendleton
  • Sep 18, 2016
  • 4 min read

This is an excerpt from one of my novel-works-in-progress. The intro you will read is about one of my favorite characters. Here we go!

*Do not own rights to photo, is not mine. Pinterest derived.

Quinn was determined to do it.

Every inch of her tensed body tingled with anticipation. She was concentrating hard enough that all the little,

seemingly insignificant details of the moment sharpened. The rub of new leather against the back of her neck. The soft

cotton of a threadbare band t-shirt that fit snuggly to her waist. The easy stretch of the coal-black skinny jeans. It all

came together to form her.

Quinn blew a piece of lucent turquoise hair away from her equally shining eyes. She could not, and would not,

fail. Her people were surrounding her, not cheering, but not discouraging either. It wasn’t their way to cheer. That’s just

not what they did. Quinn had to prove she was still on top, still dominant in the pack.

She eyed the bottom of the stairs again, skimming upwards and silently counting once again. Thirteen dirty,

weathered concrete steps to fly over. It was a stupid dare really, completely childish and utterly pointless, but that was

why she was doing it.

Quinn glanced over at Mikey, Lea, and all of the other freshman waiting for her. Most were waiting for a funny

story, a fail to share with anyone who would listen, so that their own problems wouldn’t seem so pathetic.

They can do and think whatever they please, because I don’t give a crap. If anything, they were just another

reason she had to win. Just to be able to shove it down their throats that for at least today, they would not be the ones

telling the story.

It was time. She took a deep breath of recycled air, filled with snatches of perfume and sweat and leaped.

Her heavy combat boots rose from the ground with the rest of her, soaring through it all for a few tiny, thrilling

seconds. Then she was falling.

The last time she’d done this she’d been seven. The steps had still been old and dirty, covered in peeling paint

and faint traces of graffiti that hadn’t yet been covered up. Her dark brown curls had been twisted up in a high ponytail

as she’d contemplated the distance.

At the time, it had never before been done. The entire playground had been watching from the large window on

the right side of her. She had jumped as high and far as possible and landed a foot away from the last step on her hands

and knees. With a fist in the air and a mighty, triumphant roar she had completed the dare. For a seven-year- old without

a hero, Quinn had figured that being your own wouldn’t be that bad. So from that minute on, Quinn had become a ruler,

a queen among tweens.

Quinn let her eyes open as her left boot almost collided with a blonde’s head. The girl was petit and hunched in

over herself when she saw the foot coming at her, her eyes wide with horror. Quinn wrenched her body the other way

and pulled her knees half-way to her stomach.

Then she hit the ground in a cartwheel.

The crowd of greasy teens that weren’t affiliated with her cried out in relief, horror, or amazement all at once.

Lea ran to her and punched her arm. Her yellow sundress with slits down the sides clashed with her army jacket and

bandana, which meant Lea was in a considerably good mood today. Her black hair was in misshapen pigtails on either

side of her head. A pair of honey colored eyes scrunched up into a grin.

“You did great, idiot.”

“Thanks, loser.”

Mikey came up behind them. He was wearing the usual plaid t-shirt with dark jeans and sneakers. Though he

tried not too, Mikey attracted attention everywhere he went. Too tall and lean to be considered gangly, but not

muscular enough to be a jock, either. Thick, crazily mussed up sandy hair sat atop his head like something had just

exploded in the AP lab down the hall. He had chocolate eyes and high cheekbones.

“Good job once again, your highness.” He said, bowing and popping up again with a three-year- old’s grin. Then

he casually draped his arm around Lea’s neck. She grabbed it and twisted until it was pinned to his back.

“You do it again handsome, and I won’t be able to call you that anymore.” This was clear flirting coming from

her, and Quinn’s soft side was glad they’d finally gotten together a few weeks ago. He easily unpinned himself and

kissed Lea full on the lips. Quinn moaned and turned away, running to her old leather satchel from where it’d lain

forgotten at the top of those fateful stairs.

“Come on you two, we’ll be late again.” She said, grimacing as she realized what that sounded like. Lea snorted

and Mikey stared in mock shock.

“Since when have you ever cared?”

“I started caring when it became the only thing that sheltered me from that.” She said, waving her hands in front

of their swollen mouths. A sly smile overtook them both, and they turned to gaze dramatically into each other’s eyes.

Quinn gagged and sauntered away. They were right, she really didn’t care about being tardy.

I mean, it’s American History. Quinn thought as she slung the bag over her shoulder. When has anything

interesting happened in there?

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