Just Say Enough

Charlotte's been pushed around for all her life. She's let people do whatever they want to her, and she's never done anything about it. Although, when she starts writing her new novel, she realizes that she should be like the main character, and just say enough.

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1. Chapter One

My friends Bethany and Tara, my fraternal twin sister, Kate, and I were sitting in the back of one of my teachers’ car on the way to the New York Science Museum since our school's low budget called for the single bus to become extremely full. I had just sloppily finished writing a chapter of my newest story, due to constant jolting of the car, and continually asked Beth to read it. She was the only one in the car – including the teacher – who hadn’t read any of my stories. 

“Read it!” I urged Beth, for about the sixteenth time. “You haven’t read any of my stories yet. At least read the first chapter while we have time.”

She jerked backwards in her seat as I shoved my notebook towards her face. “But- ow!” She pulled forward to quickly and her seatbelt got stuck, temporarily choking her.

“Are you okay?” Kate and I asked in unison.

“Twin moment!” Tara snickered. If she hadn’t been sitting in the front seat, I would have shoved her so hard…

“I’m fine.” Beth breathed, regaining her breath as the seatbelt went slack. “Thanks.”

“Good.” I said, after shooting Tara a harsh look. “Now read.” This time, I turned to the first page and plopped the notebook down on her lap.

She stared at it, clearly pondering over which excuse she would hurl at me this time, and a new conversation to start. “But I don’t want to read it right now.” She finally said.

“Why not?” I asked. “You’re busy every other second I want you to read it, anyway. Better to read it when you don’t feel like it than when you already have something to do, right?”

“I guess…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes began to scan the page.

Thrilled and curious for her reaction, I watched her closely. She was reading quickly and without purpose, so I figured she was just looking for key phrases to aide her subject-changing plan.

Sure enough, she said, “Hey, this reminds me of the time my cousin Steven decided he wanted to go bungee jumping and…”

I ceased listening and rested my head in my hand, and glumly stared out of the window. Beth was one of my best friends; I didn’t see why she didn’t want to read any of my stories. Perhaps she was one of those people who wrote fantastically and didn’t tell anyone because they were so consumed in living a double life.

I stared at the boring highway as Beth’s supposedly funny story went on and on for about five minutes.

“This isn’t funny.” I heard Kate say.

Figures.

I laughed when everyone else did, and then decided it would be polite to return my attention to the story.

“So what’d you do?” Tara asked.

“I pushed him off!” Beth laughed.

Everyone else did, and although unaware of the previous context of the story, I did too.

“It’s not like the rope broke or anything; he needed to be brave for once!” Beth continued.

I wanted to interrupt and yell, “Why don’t you want to read my books? Can you not read, or is it just that you don’t believe in me?” But instead, I laughed along with everyone else.

Again. 

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