RE: Trailer Trash 4 Finale pt 1 (Patreon)

   “Hey guys,” Matthew Williams gave them a sheepish greeting. “What’s up?”

   “Hi, Matthew!” Carrie rewarded him with a brilliant smile.

   As one of Erica Taylor’s coterie of freshman being groomed for a position in Springton High’s labyrinthian pyramid-scheme of popularity, Carrie had been pointedly introduced to Matthew several times already. He knew he was supposed to know her, as in, speak up in support should her name ever come up in conversation, but honestly the platinum blonde beaming a smile at him had never made much of a credible impression.

   So—what’s one of Erica’s girls doing hanging around Tabitha, now? Matthew wondered, sending a subtle questioning glance towards Elena.

   “Matthew,” Elena acknowledged his presence with a neutral tone, not seeming particularly pleased to see him.

   Ahh... fuck, Matthew tried not to wince. S’all gonna be about taking sides, now, huh?

   Elena was interesting, and from what people mentioned, interested in him, which only made things more difficult for everyone. Matthew was discreetly dating Casey, and after a youth retreat last month spent making out and getting handsy with each other beneath a blanket, he was fairly certain that he was going to love her forever. With his art club friends on one side, and the majority of his sophomore peers on the other, getting caught up in the internecine conflict surrounding Tabitha seemed inevitable—he really wished he could just not be involved in anything complicated.

   “I, uh—well, I got to the bottom of who was spreading that rumor,” Matthew joked, presenting a lopsided smile for the girls. By the time he’d arrived at school today, the topic had somehow already disseminated throughout the school and become common knowledge.

   “We know,” Elena said, crossing her arms.

   “We know,” Carried agreed with a chuckle. “Duh.”

   “Smooth, Sherlock,” Alicia glanced up from the cast she was decorating and shot him a teasing grin. “Real smooth.”

   “You alright, Tabitha?” Matthew asked.

   “I’ve… been better?” Tabitha sighed. She had a dazed, somewhat dreamy look in those pale green eyes today—painkillers, obviously—and despite Matthew’s sure future with Casey, that familiar surge of teenage hormones had him wondering what it would be like sharing a blanket with Tabitha.

   “Real sorry things got so crazy out of hand like this,” Matthew apologized awkwardly, feeling a sharp pang of guilt for his attraction. “Mom was pissed, she called the school board. Dad was all trying to calm her down—‘till he heard people were saying you made up the whole thing with Officer Macintire. Then he was pissed, and—well, listen, we’re all pissed.”

   “We are pissed,” Elena nodded in approval, uncrossing her arms and resting them back on the table.

   “You letting people sign your cast, Tabitha?” Matthew asked.

   “Not ‘til I’m finished,” Alicia decided, hunching protectively over Tabitha’s arm. “And then you’re only allowed to sign right where I show you to sign.”

   “You can’t just keep using Tabitha as your art project for everything,” Matthew chuckled, remembering Alicia hadn’t been shy about telling the club she was going to use the photo she'd taken as a reference for a painting as soon as she got into the Art II elective.

   “Yes I can—and yes I will,” Alicia stuck out her tongue at him, looking pleased with herself.

   The dark-skinned girl had been a lot more reserved back at the art club meeting, and it took a moment gauging the body language of the girls to realize why—Alicia was acting playful to prove their familiarity and make Carrie and Elena uneasy.

   No, wait—it’s really just to put Carrie on edge, Matthew realized. Carrie and Elena seemed cut from the same cloth, but Elena’s posture was decidedly guarded, like there was a wall of tension separating her from Carrie. Despite mostly facing him, she never let the other blonde out of her peripheral.

   Gah. I really DO think Elena’s cool, Matthew groused to himself as his estimation of Elena rose another notch. Closer observation revealed that yes, the Erica faction Carrie was the obvious odd one out, and Elena was sitting protectively to look out for Tabitha. But... I absolutely don’t want to get into this. Or seem like I’m leading Elena on, or anything. Definitely don’t want to jeopardize things with Casey.

   “Well, anyways, having a big party the Sunday after Halloween,” Matthew announced. “My Pah-pa and Grammy have a big house on the lake, but they hurry down to Florida every winter, so my parents always trash the place throwing all the parties they can.”

   He meant that to come off as humor, but if last year was any indication…

   “Wanted to make sure you’re all invited—I can write down the address for you, if you want.”

   “We’re all invited?” Elena blurted out, her standoffish demeanor slipping for a moment.

   “Yeah, of course,” Matthew confirmed. “Any of you free?”

   “Is it a costume party?” Alicia looked up from the cast with interest. “Like, a Halloween thing?”

   “Yeah, or at least—mostly,” Matthew admitted. “Me and some of the guys from my youth group’re definitely gonna dress up.”

   “I’ll ask my mom, then,” Alicia shared a glance with Tabitha before looking back to Matthew. “If that’s cool?”

   “Yeah, awesome,” Matthew nodded, eyeing Tabitha for her response.

   “...Is Erica going?” Carrie inquired with a mischievous smile, knowing what a loaded question that was.

   “Uhhh—well, she was invited, yeah,” Matthew grimaced. “Like, I’m not gonna go out of my way to uninvite her, but with her already—”

   “I think you probably should uninvite her,” Elena cut in with a biting remark. “You know what she’s been doing; if she’s there, we’re not going.”

   “No, no—it’s fine,” Tabitha protested weakly. “I don’t even know if I can go. If I did—all of us would be there, so things would still be... civil, right?”

   “Right,” Carrie let out a sarcastic snort. “Civil.”

   “If Erica’s going, Tabitha and us are not,” Elena decided in a firm voice. “Like—no way.”

   “Address, please,” Alicia asked cheerfully, drawing out a blank page from the portfolio sitting beneath Tabitha’s cast and passing her marker to Matthew. “Uhhh... phone number too, yeah?”

   “Yeah, of course,” Matthew nodded, pretending to be oblivious to the way the other girls all turned to stare at Alicia.

   REALLY wish I could just put it out there that I’m taken without dumping drama bullshit all over Casey.

   It took him a moment to scrawl out the address and then his number beneath it, and Alicia immediately took both the marker and the paper. She carefully folded and put it away before the Carrie could peek at it.

   “Thank you,” Alicia smiled to herself. 

   “...Can I borrow a piece of paper?” Carrie asked, giving the black girl a look.

   “Uh, shit—sorry, I don’t have any blank paper,” Alicia lied. “I really don’t—even that one already had one of my drawings on the back. Sorry?”

   Carrie looked from girl to girl, visibly trying not to scowl as she suspected her apparent exclusion, but there was nothing Matthew could do—it was lunch period, and he didn’t carry things on him. Shit.

   “I’ll get the place from you later,” Carrie said to Matthew, her tone suggesting the words were not-so-subtly directed at the others. “I really wanna go, and I’m definitely gonna be there.”

   “Uh, cool,” Matthew said helplessly, determined to not get involved. “Yeah. Well, I’ll catch you all later sometime. Feel better, Tabitha.”

   “Matthew?” Tabitha spoke up. “Say hi to Hannah for me, please?”

   He waved as he turned to go, amused to see Carrie frozen with indecision. For a moment it had looked like she was also about to walk away from the situation... but when he left the girls behind, he could still faintly overhear her hushed whisper.

   “Who the hell’s Hannah?”

*     *     *

   Tabitha stared down at her empty desk in total disbelief.

   After lunch, she’d managed to trundle along to her fifth period Algebra I class and settle into her seat to review her Goblina notes. Most of the freshman algebra assignments were from a workbook they were given at the beginning of the year, so aside from tests and the odd errant printout, Tabitha had completed all provided work well ahead of time. It was difficult to focus on outlines today—she wanted to imagine what Hannah would make of things, were the spritely little girl to read her story.

    Tabitha was feeling beyond haggard, stretched past all of her tolerances and ready to have a breakdown, and only realized it when she’d had to reread the sentence three times before the actual meaning in her scribbled notes registered. With a bit of reluctance, she resigned herself to scribbling a new entry in her ‘ideas’ section—thoughts she would review and reorganize by merit at the end of each week.

Alternate method of exposition? Define protagonist only through various varied? character foils. Supporting characters as foils, NOT antagonist (too overdone) / have antagonist very relatable to heroine? Conclude with understanding instead of conflict?? Too subversive? Might not satisfy. Julie said TWIST IN, not twist out, should take note! (compile ref page of everything remember about Julie’s writing for reference!!!) Keep first book climax conflict at top of Magi tower (climax!) but resolve w/ mutual understanding, best end(?) presented BAD GUY as support. chara? Don’t let 1st antagonist job in following arc, undermines. Abstract antagonist? Possib stray too far away from point o/ orig story allegory and meta

Define (refine?) planned character exposition (profile pages 3-7, 13, 15) as narrative hooks /  present hooks in logical chain of progression NOT MYSTERY BOX. Hook should prompt question (expectation?) with/o bait unwritt subplot. Split hooks by type of exposition, backstory unreliable narration ONLY chekhovs gun to setstablish set up establish for later. (divvy up backstory reveals f/ both two book & three book plans and weigh merit, refer page 40)

Compare logical progression vs. redefining monomyth for female hero journ (page 118, tearing at top get plastic page protector) compare protector cost / benefit vs. rewrite worn page w/ new paper???? Order of operat. narratv hook depend on how present subplot. Ask studies concurrent subplots resolution for best balance Mrs. Albertson tomorrow DON’T FORGET.

practice acting out chara mannerisms w/ Mom? Better insight to characters. what traits can/can’t be define w/ written manneirsm mannerisms? How act as show vs. tell readers, teach Mom cauliflower rice recipe tonight NEED EAT SOMETHING BEFORE GET WORSE. BRAINSTORM SIMPLE MEAL PREP OPTIONS F/ WEEK? PRIORITY, ASK GRANDMA HELP.

   Staring down at her scribbles with a strange sense of satisfaction, Tabitha set down her pencil and readjusted the strap of her sling. Her notes were mostly nonsense, but it was still incredibly cathartic putting nagging thoughts down onto paper, because then it felt like she didn’t have to think about them anymore. Slouched over her desk and resting her cheek on the inside of her arm, she closed her sore eyes for a moment—before she knew it, she’d completely drifted off.

   Tabitha fell asleep for almost thirty-five minutes right in the middle of class, and when she woke up, the binder that she kept her Goblina project in was gone.

   At first, she was only confused. She’d instinctively sought out the binder almost the moment she was awake and aware again, because it often existed to her as a tangible representation of her thoughts. It was where she collected her thoughts, a security blanket in the same sense as Alicia never letting her sketchbook too far out of her sight. Her desk was empty, and a cursory inspection leaning forward revealed it hadn’t been nudged off and onto the floor. She knew she hadn’t put it in the backpack resting by her side, but she checked anyways.

    Thinking perhaps another adjacent student had been curious and was flipping through it on their desk caused her to look around, and immediately several of the neighboring teenage girls sitting nearby purposefully looked away from her in unison, studiously avoiding her gaze.

   Oh. OH. Realizing what must have happened was immediately, intensely upsetting, and Tabitha glared at them in furious consternation even as her eyes began to water.

   This wasn’t completely new—Tabitha vaguely remembered classmates having knicked her belongings in her first life, but right now she felt so angry,  hurt, and vulnerable that she was completely beside herself. She was trying to be the mature, level-headed Tabitha through each crisis, but she was past the limits of what she could endure right now, and didn’t imagine she could weather this without having a breakdown.

   I'm so fucking done. I'm so fucking done with all of this.

   There was more than disjointed ramblings in that binder, it was a piece of her soul she was relearning how to carve out and express to others; it was her struggling—but promising—attempt at breathing new inspiration into the failure of her last life’s work. She wanted to flip out, she wanted to scream and cry, she wanted to shut down and hug her knees like a child, she wanted to wail and whine about how fucking ridiculously unfair all of this was becoming.

   Tabitha squeezed her left hand against the confines of its cast, attempting to clench her hand into a fist until it really started to hurt.

   But, I’m not going to do any of that. Shaking slightly, Tabitha grit her teeth so hard her jaw ached, and carefully rose up out of her seat. Because I’m a GODDAMN adult.

   There was a rush of dizziness and her vision blacked out for a moment as she stood, but that was slight malnourishment, not rage, and helped clear her head a bit. The room was quiet except for Mr. Stern droning on as he drew an example equation on the board at the front of the class, but the silence seemed somehow deafening to her. Students were turning in their seats to see what she was doing.

   Slowly—carefully, watching her feet on the chance someone would purposefully put out a foot to trip her, because she was completely out of trust for her peers right now— Tabitha walked down the aisle of desks to the front of the classroom beside Mr. Stern.

   “Yes? Miss Tabitha?” Mr. Stern paused, looking at her with surprise.

   “I fell asleep,” Tabitha explained quietly. Tears had rolled down her cheeks, but she’d managed to not start actually crying. If she did, there was no was no way she was going to be able to collect herself anytime soon.

   “Yes, I saw that,” Mr. Stern admitted awkwardly, glancing over towards her assigned seat. “But, you’re a fair bit ahead of the class, and with—”

   “When I woke up, something on my desk was gone. A binder. It was full of—it had a personal project that was very important to me,” Tabitha explained in a low voice. This close to the front of the class, she doubted anyone would be able to overhear, but with how quiet everyone had gone, it seemed like they were all extremely interested.

   “I’m going home,” Tabitha said, giving Mr. Stern a bitter smile. “I don’t feel good, and—I don’t feel safe here anymore. I don’t know if I’m ever going to come back. I’m sorry.”

   “Stole your notebook? Binder?” Mr. Stern’s face became a grimacing frown and he glared out across his students. “I’ll make sure that—”

   “Please do,” Tabitha felt herself begin to choke up. “But—I, I need to go. I’m going to the main office. I’m sorry.”

   “Robert,” Mr. Stern snapped, pointing out the guy Tabitha had thought of as that redneck kid and then jerking his thumb back towards her. “See Miss Tabitha here up to the main office. And don’t bother her.”

   “Yessir,” Bobby leapt to his feet agreeably, turning a smirk and a side-eyed glance towards the glowering group of girls that seemed out to get Tabitha.

   “I’m gonna call this in to the office,” Mr. Stern promised her. “Go home and get some rest, we’ll make sure this all gets resolved.”

( 20, The road to recovery and the path to revenge. | RE: Trailer Trash | Next: 4 Finale pt 2 )

/// Totally burnt myself out last month, but I think it was for the best. Giving myself a few weeks of writing downtime had some rather nebulous additions coalescing into really strong ideas, and I'm very excited now to fit them all together.