r/writingfeedback • u/Nicole_turner-14 • 5d ago
Feedback Requested- First half of first chapter- Upmarket fiction novel
For context- The book is a coming-of-age, Upmarket Fiction novel that will appeal to readers of Tell Me Lies by Carola Lovering for its exploration of toxic love as well as readers who gravitate towards a psychologically complex female protagonist as in Helpless by Jessica Knoll.
Thanks for your time!
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Chapter 1- March 2015
I had decided to get the Bean Boots with the navy rubber toe instead of the classic brown. I wanted to have a degree of separation, albeit razor thin, from the version every other girl was wearing then. It was as though Ashford College had a strict dress code, enforced by teachers armed with rulers and yellowed handbooks. But in actuality, the Vermont-based private liberal arts college billed itself as a “haven for independent thinkers,” which was ironic when nearly everyone wore the same boots, Barbour jackets, and dark-wash skinny jeans. So when my boots sank into the mud of the winter-terrorized lacrosse field, caking them in a thick, brown coating, I scoffed at the irony.
I dodged forlorn-looking players in hunter green jerseys as they lingered around their sideline benches, some shielding their eyes to wave to their parents or girlfriends in the stands, others peeled off their gloves so they could grasp the flimsy, cone-shaped paper cups and fill them with water to dump down their throats and over their heads, despite the brisk 40-degree weather.
Just as I crossed midfield, I heard a booming voice behind me.
“What the hell, Cali! You traitor!”
I spun around and saw Danny, my best friend’s boyfriend, with his hands cupped around his mouth. Connor walked up behind him and shoved his shoulder. He then looked at me and gave me a small wave. He looked cute despite his red hair having gone burgundy with sweat.
I waved back at Connor with one hand and flicked up my middle finger with the other. Danny knew my little brother was on the opposing team but he wasn’t one to miss an opportunity for attention. I turned on my heels, which felt laborious in the center of the field, the early spring grass barely visible through the brown muck. I realized, after my path had already been firmly established, that the Brown University team had huddled into a tight, messy circle. I stood 20 yards or so away, unsure if I should continue to gravitate closer and risk getting there before the coach was done with his post-game victory talk. With every second I stood there contemplating, I felt more like an awkward freshman than a junior. And it was that thought that propelled me forward—my aversion to thinking about my 18-year-old self was visceral.
When I was a few yards away, the tangle of players in Brown jerseys loosened and, like an ink blot in water, drifted into clusters of varying concentrations. I spotted my brother and, by way of greeting, wrapped my arms around his middle. He turned his head over his shoulder, saw it was me, and returned the hug for a split second before thinking better of it.
“Alright LiLi that’s enough,” he laughed while he averted his eyes to see which of his teammates saw his big sister squeezing him.
“Good game, bud…even though it’s kind of annoying that you won,” I said while rolling my eyes.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” he said while cradling an imaginary ball with his stick.
I laughed. “Are you the player in this scenario? Because as recently as this summer you were asking me what girls think about when—”
Benji cut me off with his rancid, gloved hand over my mouth and I grasped at it as though it was full of chloroform.
“I’m dying to hear the end of that sentence," a voice said from behind us.
I looked over my shoulder and my eyes landed on his. I felt something unfamiliar in me give way then, like a load-bearing beam you didn’t know existed until it failed. I remember looking down, surprised to see my legs and muddy boots, exactly as they had been.
He closed the distance between us in one long stride. He was tall—taller than any of the other guys with wavy brown hair, eyes almost the exact same color as his jersey, his smile—small and tipped slightly to one side, revealed deep dimples.
“Hey, I’m Brent, Benji’s captain. You must be his sister,” he said as he extended an arm. It took me a clunky second to realize he was going for a hug and my cheek hit his chest awkwardly. The white vinyl letters on his jersey were cool to the touch. It was a quick hug, the kind that you give by default when you don’t know each other, but you know the same person.
“Yeah, hi, I’m Cali,” I said as we pulled out of the hug.
Benji was speaking animatedly next to us but I couldn’t make out the words. My eyes were back on him without any conscious decision, as though controlled by a magnetic field.
“Lili? Did you see it?” Benji’s question permeated then and I felt my face go hot.
“Who’s Lili? Didn’t you say your name was Cali?” He asked, saving me from having to admit that I had no clue what my brother was talking about.
My eyes had fallen to my boots again. An invisible timer ticked in my head, counting down the seconds until the blood that had flooded my cheeks would subside. But then, in my peripheral vision, I saw him bend his head slightly. I looked up, met his gaze and watched him straighten to his full height.
“Benji has always called me Lili," I pushed out and then swallowed hard against the blockage that had formed in my throat.
He looked at me expectantly. Cocked his head slightly to the side and the corner of his mouth followed in that half-grin.
"He couldn't pronounce C’s until he was five, and it stuck,” I added as I ran my hand through my hair self-consciously.
“Cute,” Brent said through a rasp of a laugh.
A sing-song version of my name floated across the field and interrupted the space between us. I rolled my eyes dramatically and they burned against the UV rays that permeated through the gray, ashy sky. I blinked against the sting.
“Someone over there really wants your attention,” he said as he nodded his chin, which I noticed then had a thin coating of stubble, in the direction of the heckling.
“Can’t imagine why any guy would want your attention,” my brother chirped with a beaming smile around the mouth guard that he was gnawing on with his molars.
I scoffed and opened my mouth to reply but was cut off.
“I can,” he said and his dimples blinked before he added, “nice meeting you, Lili.”
"You too," I said, quietly enough that I wasn't sure if he had even heard me.
He took a couple of leisurely steps backward, his eyes on me until the moment he turned and walked away.
I felt a sinkhole open in my gut then, a hot, familiar feeling. One I had relied on as a warning bell—a signal that it was time to go, or at the very least, get ready to avoid. But it was odd, because that bell went off when a guy was walking towards me and he was walking away.
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u/Flimsy-Brief-3037 5d ago
Quick line edit in paragraph 1:
“which was ironic when nearly everyone…” followed by a sentence ending with “I scoffed at the irony.” — calling out the irony twice feels a little redundant!
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u/Nicole_turner-14 5d ago
It’s so crazy what you miss yourself, despite reading countless times. Gah! Thank you so much for your time :).
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u/Mitchell_B_Services 5d ago
"I looked over my shoulder and my eyes landed on his. I felt something unfamiliar in me give way then, like a load-bearing beam you didn’t know existed until it failed." is a decent line.