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gasp* Yes. Yes, I am writing a post that does not involve Harry Potter. That's because it's November 16th, the day of Sarah's Retold Blogfest at The Wit and Wisdom of Sarah. Congratulations to Sarah for keeping up such a wonderful blog and reaching her 100th post.
For the Retold Blogfest, we are supposed to write a scene from another book/tale/novel from another character's point of view. I just finished reading Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. I loved this book and really admire Anderson's way of writing and bringing readers into the mind of her main character. Therefore, I have decided to write my Blogfest entry on the "Stupid, Stupid" scene from Speak, in which David Petrakis asks Melinda to come over for "celebratory pizza". I have written this scene from David's point of view.
I hope you enjoy.
David Speaks, Melinda Doesn't
There were ten seconds left in the last basketball game of the season. The air was thick with screams and shouts as a Hornet dashed towards the basket, but I could hear none of it. The scoreboard read 50-50. My eyes were glued on #12, who was dribbling to ball towards the goal, the key to our school's pride. As though in slow motion, #12 dodged two Coatesville Cougars and reached towards the gym ceiling. In one swift movement, the ball fell through the basket.
There was silence, and then there was an immense uproar. My friends and Dad and I sprinted up from our seats and screamed, clapped, and cried along with the rest of the crowd. We had won. How was that for the Horny Hornets of Merryweather High School?
"WE WON! WE WON!!!"
"Damn, that was one amazing shot!"
"He did it in just one move..."
"Legendary, man."
"WE WON! WE WON!"
"Didn't even get pushed on the way to the basket!"
"Faked right, duh."
I loved basketball and always had since I was a kid. This was by far one of the best high school basketball games I'd ever seen. That #12...whoever he was, he was going places.
We pushed through the doors, still conversing excitedly about the game. Suddenly, I caught sight of that Melinda girl, the one from Social Studies class. The one with blistered lips and a dumb, blinky-blink look when people asked her questions. I couldn't believe she was here. I barely ever saw Melinda at any school events or activities except for the Art room. Knowing my friends wouldn't miss me if I disappeared for just a few moments, I walked towards my lab partner.
"Melinda! Where were you sitting?" Blink, blink.
"Did you see that last shot?! Unbelievable! Unfreakinglievable." I pretended for a moment that I was #12, and mimicked his movements with the ball. I dribbled, dodged imaginary obstacles, dribbled some more, and then swished. Melinda's eyes followed my motions, but she never said a word. Go figure.
"I mean, seriously, where did that guy learn to shoot like that? Even before the end, he was already getting us some serious points. I bet he's gonna win a scholarship some day." I rambled on, hoping to spark Melinda's interest somehow.
This was crazy...I was talking to myself. I mean, I'm not a total genius or anything, but usually I can figure most people out. But Melinda? Nothing. It was like...whenever I tried to talk to her and dig in deeper to find out who she was, what Melinda was like, there was nothing but a brick wall to block my way. What I feared most was that there was nothing to find out. That she was a dummy.
Ding! Light bulb. I had an idea.
"Say, why don't you come over and have some pizza with me? Dad's getting three boxes for us to chow down back at my place...you know, to celebrate the Hornets' success!"
Blink, blink.
"Come on, Mel. You gotta' come with us! My dad told me I could bring anyone I wanted. We can give you a ride home after if you want. It'll be fun. You do remember fun, don't you?"
I thought I saw Melinda twitch for a moment...her lips. They had made some sort of movement, but no sound came out. She gave me a twisted look, a cross between a half smile and a grimace, and made the teeniest motion with her left hand. It was obviously a no thanks.
I shrugged. "No? Okay then, no. Suit yourself. See you Monday." I walked away.
As far as I was concerned, Melinda wasn't going places like #12. In fact, she wasn't going anywhere unless she learned how to speak.
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So what do you think? =)
~TRA
Retold Blogfest: "David Speaks, Melinda Doesn't"
