Author's Note: Well, here goes nothing. This here's my first attempt at creating an original character-centered story. Hope it goes well!
"You're kidding."
"I'm not!"
"How could you possibly think that Muscle Fish 4 is better than 3?!"
It was another typical lunch period at Royal Woods Middle School. It was September, the dawning of a new school year, and it had taken almost no time for the students to settle back into their usual routines. Having finished their meals, Lincoln and Rusty were now engaged in a heated debate over the acclaimed Muscle Fish gaming franchise while their friends - Liam, Zach, Clyde and Stella - watched in amusement.
"Muscle Fish 4 was the first one to have online play," said Rusty.
"And?" asked Lincoln. "So you can play against some kid in South Korea and have him teabag you and call you a noob. Big whoop."
"Sounds like someone needs to learn how to play."
"Oh, like you don't get wrecked by those Korean kids too."
"I know I do," Liam chimed in. "Soon as I see that flag next to their gamer handle, I just call it quits. Them Koreans are -"
"You guys talking about Muscle Fish?" called a voice from beyond the table.
All six children swerved their heads in the direction of the voice, and spied a fair-skinned girl around their age in a form-fitting baby blue sweater. Her scarlet hair was done up in thin braids that hung down to her shoulders, and she had an orange skirt around her waist that swished back and forth with her every movement.
"I'm gonna have to side with carrot top over there," said the girl, gesturing towards Rusty. "The physics in that game are way tighter. I like 3 as much as the next guy, but every time I jumped in that game I felt like I was on the moon."
The group was a bit stymied. As friend groups go, they were pretty insular, and it was rare that someone from the outside entered their space - especially someone they had never seen before.
As soon as he got over the shock, the first thing Rusty did, naturally, was gloat.
"Looks like that's one more vote for the Rust Man!" he said with a smirk, before turning to the new girl. "Wanna join us?"
"Sure!" she said. The new girl grabbed a chair and scooted it into the gap between Lincoln and Liam. She then leaped over the chair and plopped herself down, making her skirt flutter from the impact.
"Name's Mindy. Just moved here from some nowhere town nobody cares about. How 'bout all of you?"
Lincoln, having recovered from the surprise of the new stranger strutting her way into his friend group, decided to take the initiative and make the introductions. "Well, I'm Lincoln. And these..."
He pointed to each of his friends in rapid succession. "...are Liam, Rusty, Zach, Stella and Clyde. Nice to meet you!"
Mindy bent over the table and gave each kid a firm handshake. Once she got to Stella, she eyed her up and down and let out an impressed whistle.
"You've got quite a tall glass of water over here," she remarked. "Someone's been eating her green veggies."
Stella giggled, shrinking away from the newcomer. "I'm just an early bloomer, I guess."
Mindy continued to go around the circle before finally arriving at Lincoln, taking him by the hand and giving him a nice hard shake. As she did, Lincoln felt a slight tingle in his palm - almost like he was being tickled there. When he looked at her face, however, he saw that she was wearing the same jovial expression as before.
Must've just been my imagination, he thought.
"So tell us a lil' bit 'bout yourself, Mindy," said Liam. "Whaddaya like to do? Besides playin' Muscle Fish, I mean."
"I sing, I do gymnastics, and I've mastered seven martial arts," she rattled off. She stuck out her chin, daring them to ask another question.
Her response elicited a few raised eyebrows around the table. "Wow, really?" asked Rusty.
As soon as Rusty opened his mouth, Mindy lost her composure and broke out into giggles. "No, I'm kidding," she said with a roll of her eyes. "About most of that, anyway. I could never be a gymnast. Those girls are freaks." She embellished the last word, making it sound as though it were two syllables long ("fuh-reaks") and gesticulated as she said it.
"I do sing, though. Wanna hear?"
After getting a few nods around the table, she she sang a couple of bars from "Steppin' Out with My Baby" by Irving Berlin. Her voice was light, smooth and relaxed, demonstrating a complete lack of effort or strain.
"Not bad!" said Lincoln. "You should meet my sister, Luna. She sings, too. And she plays guitar!"
Mindy turned to face Lincoln. "Oh, really?" she asked. "What about you, Lincoln? Are you a musician too?"
He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Oh, no, not me. I mean, I can kind of carry a tune, but I'm more into magic."
"What, like the trading card game?"
Lincoln felt the urge to roll his eyes. It seemed like every time he told his friends he was into magic, they would always ask about that stupid game. Still, out of a desire to make a good first impression, he managed to fight that urge.
"N-no, I mean real magic," he said. "Not that magic is real, but... you know what I mean. Magic. Sleight of hand. Coin tricks."
Mindy clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. "You're funny, Lincoln."
I wasn't really trying to be, but... thanks?
The seven of them proceeded to gab away for the next few minutes. Lincoln noticed right off the bat that she was the kind of girl who smiled a lot; even so, whenever she was looking at him, it seemed that her smile grew just a bit bigger. Once again, though, he dismissed it as a product of his imagination. I'm sure she's just friendly, he thought.
When the bell finally rang, she leaped up, threw on her backpack and started striding away. "Well, I gotta get to class, but it was nice meeting you all. Buh-bye!"
The group looked on as she walked away, letting her bright orange skirt swish from side to side. Mid-stride, she looked over her shoulder, made eye contact with Lincoln and gave him a finger-twiddling wave.
Okay, now that part I wasn't imagining. Was I?
At the same time, Lucy was in the school courtyard, enjoying a solitary recess. Due to her bad luck, her friends in the Mortician's Club all had recess at different times from her; as such, she tended to keep to herself during this time. Although it did get lonely at times, she appreciated having forty-five minutes to write her poetry and watch the other children. Her classmates scurried around the yard, playing freeze tag, red rover, double dutch, tetherball... all activities that, to Lucy, weren't much fun to play, but were enjoyable enough to watch.
Her eyes drifted towards the three girls playing double dutch. The excited chanting of the girls swinging the ropes, the tireless footwork of the one jumping, and the perfect balance and harmony between all of their movements was mesmerizing to watch - so mesmerizing, in fact, that Lucy was inspired to write down a couplet in her poetry diary.
Jump, jump, faster, faster
Dance to the rhythm of the siren's call
Jump, jump, higher, higher
Don't miss a beat or they'll let you fall
Feeling proud of herself, she looked up from her diary and scanned the courtyard again, in search of more inspiration. It was tough, though, when all of the faces she saw were of children she had grown accustomed to seeing every day.
All, that is, but one.
In the midst of her search, she spied a boy she had never seen before sitting off to the side, with his back rested against the wall of the school. From her distance, there was little she could make out about him, aside from a red shirt and a thick, blonde mane of curly hair. She could, however, tell that he was preoccupied with something. There was something in his lap that he was fiddling with.
What's he doing?
Curious, she put her diary back in her backpack, left her post and started to creep over towards him, one step at a time. As she drew closer, she was able to make out other details - like the fact that his shirt rode up a bit, exposing his pudgy belly. She also noticed the myriad materials on the ground next to him - a tube of glue, a few markers, and a box of what looked like sequins and glitter - and got a better look at the object in his lap, which seemed to be a doll of some sort. He was so absorbed in whatever he was doing that he failed to see her approach. It wasn't until she was just a couple feet away that he finally took notice of her.
Sensing that someone was near, he looked up, saw her staring at him, and yelped, nearly dropping the project he was working on. Lucy, having grown accustomed to being greeted that way, didn't flinch at his reaction. She just stood by and waited for him to compose himself.
Once he caught his breath, he craned his head back up to look her in the eye - or at least tried to. With the thick, black bangs concealing Lucy's eyes, all the boy could do was give it his best guess.
"I- um- may I help you?" he asked, looking on with mild apprehension.
"Sorry for startling you," said Lucy. "I just wanted to see what you were doing."
The boy's eyes drifted down to his lap. "Oh, this? I was making a finger puppet. See?"
He slid the puppet onto his pointer finger and held it up for Lucy to see. The puppet, made from green felt, had long, black hair made out of yarn, googly eyes, and a smirk that was drawn on with a black marker.
"He's almost done," said the boy. "I just need to give him some clothes. His name is Gus. He's a rock star."
He punctuated his statement by flicking his finger back, making the puppet whip his hair.
Lucy peered at the puppet with intrigue. That little sliver of a mouth conveyed quite a bit of personality. Just from his expression, Lucy could tell he was confident and self-assured, maybe even a little smug.
"Hello, Gus," she said, waving. As silly as she felt, she decided there would be no harm in humoring him. In response, the boy wiggled his finger back and forth, making the bite-sized rocker wave back.
"Gus thinks you look really cool," said the boy. "He likes your hair and your dress."
Lucy smiled a bit, taken off guard by the compliment. "Oh, um... thank you, Gus."
Feeling a little more comfortable around the stranger, she walked over and took a seat next to him. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here," she said. "Are you new?"
The boy nodded. "My family moved here from North Dakota. I miss our old town, but this city isn't too bad."
He looked back at her, bearing a friendly smile. "My name's Milo, by the way. What's yours?"
"Lucy," she said.
Milo's smile widened as he held his hand out for a shake. "Nice to meet you, Lucy."
Lucy hesitated for a couple of seconds before slowly extending her hand and accepting the shake. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she had just figured out how to perform the gesture yesterday.
"It was... nice to meet you too," she said. Sensing that Milo was a bit unnerved by the awkwardness of the shake, she threw out another question to break the tension. "Do you make a lot of those?" she asked, pointing down at the finger puppet.
"Oh, tons!" he said. "I can show you how to make one, if you'd like."
Lucy had to admit that the idea was a bit enticing. She had never been much for arts and crafts, but Milo - or rather, Gus - had charmed her in a way she didn't expect. Though she knew that he was just a piece of decorated felt, for the briefest of moments, he felt somewhat... alive.
But just as she opened her mouth for a response, the bell rang.
"Maybe next time," Milo said with a chuckle as he packed his supplies into his bag. "It was really nice meeting you, Lucy. I'll see you tomorrow!"
With that, he strode off towards his next class. Before he disappeared out of Lucy's sight, he turned back around, held up his pointer finger, and made Gus wave goodbye. Lucy couldn't help but smile as she waved back. Feeling a new wave of inspiration, she pulled out her poetry diary and jotted down a few lines:
Milo, Milo, the puppet boy
He doesn't pout or cuss
He made a new friend out of felt
And named the fellow Gus
