A Girl, A Boy, A Donut

First we start with a dialogue, written for class. This piece began as pure dialogue, then was re-written to balance spoken words with unspoken gesture that would communicate the same meaning, then scene and personal description was added. It is interesting to observe the balance of power in the scene, as it shifts from one character to the other and back, and how this shifting is presented. The boy is deliberately not described so the reader can supply his or her own image of whoever it is she went to school with who might have initiated a conversation this way.

A Girl, A Boy, A Donut

“So, you gonna finish that?”

Monica glanced around the school cafeteria and then at the donut she’d had exactly one bite of. She turned with an arched eyebrow to face the boy who’d invaded her lone table.

“What are you talking about?” Why is he talking to me? She flicked her long curls away from her face.

“Well, you mighta been done,” he explained, turning a chair around so that he could lounge comfortably in it, leaning his crossed arms on the backrest. “They say you only really taste the first two or three bites of something. You’re almost there.”

Monica shot him a suspicious look then leaned back in her chair, arms folded. Her legs crossed beneath her long dark skirt.

“You know,” she intoned, as if instructing a child “If I wanted to share it, I would have offered.”

“Come on, a guy could starve waiting to be offered food,” he chided. “ I take action on things.” He removed his ball cap, smoothed his hair and replaced it, with a flourish, exactly as before.

“But you weren’t straightforward. Say what you mean. It’s called ‘communicating.’” He’s cute. I wonder what he wants? I wonder…

“So, you’d prefer it if I came up and said ‘ Gimme the donut.’?”

“No, try it politely!”

“Uh, can I have your donut?”

Her nose wrinkled and she gave her head a little shake.

He gave her a sideways glance, dismounted from the chair and bent one knee to the floor, arms raised in a classic pose of supplication.

“May I, please, have your donut?”

A flush spread over Monica’s delicate features. “That’s much better…”

The boy leapt to his feet and bounced in his scruffy sneakers. “So, can I?”

Monica turned her head away, avoiding eye contact and hiding a smile. “Can you what?” she asked mildly.

“Have your donut!” He dropped into the previously abandoned chair.

“Um…”Monica considered, “no.”

“Are you serious? After all that?”

Monica blinked innocently.

“Well,” he sighed, “Then at least you could give me your phone number…”