Read some of it please, ask if you want more.
Don;t tell me I’m a horrid writer, just tell me what I could improve and what you like(:
Thanks!
Here’s half of chapter one, it gets a lot better but I don’t want you to have to read the whole thing. And I know it’s really girly and descriptive but thats what sells, right? So here:
Chapter 1;
Set your alarm clock if you’re going to take a nap before your friends’ party.
Also, you may want to pick out your outfit ahead of time.
Lanie groggily peeled her eyes open. Grunt. Sigh. “What time is it?” She looked over to her silver CB2 nightstand on which her Sony alarm clock sat, glowing bright red. “Crap! Crap, crap, crap! Natalie is going to kill me. Damn my sleeping patterns. How is it already nine?!” She scrambled to her feet, ripping off her Ralph Lauren plaid comforter as it wrapped itself around her feet and sent her tumbling to the ground. “Ouch. Errggg. I have got to stop being so clumsy!” She hopped up, and started to get ready. She ran to her closet, and pulled out her RCVA ‘Armory’ dress, deciding that grey was neutral enough to not outshine whatever Natalie was wearing, which was one of her rules. Never, ever, outshine the birthday girl, it just leads to trouble. She yanked of her American Eagle polka dot pajama set, pulled the dress over her head, and ran to the bathroom. “Eyeliner, eyeliner, where is my friggin eyeliner?!” She pulled open the cabinet and grabbed her MAC eyeliner, in velvet, her favorite. She applied it as quickly, but nicely, as she possibly could, but still ended up looking slightly like a raccoon. “I have to go! It’s gotta’ be nine-fifteen by now, and the party starts at ten”, she said to herself, running over the math in her head, “so if I catch an R, and transfer to an F, I could go to Casey’s and have her drive me there, and we would make it by nine-forty five-ish, if the R is running on schedule. I am such a genius!” She sprinted back to her room to get the rest of her stuff. “Jacket . . . jacket . . . jacket!” She grabbed her black Volcom ‘Commando’ jacket, as she thought it complimented the grey, and her hips, nicely. “Ok, shoes, shoes, shoes!” She grabbed her favorite ones, for parties at least, her Forever 21 ‘Zip Up Peep Toe’ Pumps, which Lydia, her youngest, but biggest boy magnet friend, had convinced her to buy last summer because they were “pretty”. But she didn’t mind, it was just an excuse to buy them, seeing as she had already wanted them. All the needed was her purse, a Gucci ‘Icon Bit’ in black, that she had saved up for over a year to get, and was her prized possession. She saw a sliver of shiny black under her bed, and sprang towards it, yanking it out. “There you are!” The alarm clock read 9:30. “Ahh! I have to go!” She scrawled a quick note for her mom on the first piece of paper she saw. Reading aloud to herself, she wrote, “Mom, went to Natalie’s party, be back around 12. Text me if you need to. Love, Lanie.” After sliding it under her moms door, she yanked her Apple ‘i-Phone’ from her bag and dialed Casey’s’ number as quickly as humanly possible. “Hello?” Casey chirped in her un-naturally quiet voice. “Casey, it’s Lanie, have you left for SoHo yet?” “No, I’m running really late, why?” She said in her ‘I already know your going to ask me to drive you but I’ll ask anyway’ tone. “I think you know, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Alaina said as she rushed out the door. “Fine, but you better hurry up, I’m leaving at exactly nine-forty five.” Casey breathed, slightly annoyed. “You’re a doll, love you babe. See you in fifteen.” Click. “So much for sharing the love.” She rushed down President Street, making a left at the corner and throwing herself into the metro with super-human speed. As she yanked out her Victororias’ Secret ‘Pink University’ wallet as the R pulled in. Grabbing her metro card, she swiped it and ran through just in time to slip into a car before the doors closed. “Yes!” she thought, “I have triumphed once again!” She fumbled around her purse, finally pulling out her headphones, and plugged them into her phone. She pressed shuffle, and let the train take her away.
************
Lanie sprinted down the street best as she could, which was not very well, seeing as she was wearing 4-inch heels. “God, I am such an idiot. Why? Why did I have to pick my highest pair of heels?” No, she corrected herself, “My only pair of heels.” She skidded to a stop outside of Casey’s’ apartment building, an 18th century beautiful brownstone. Whipping out her phone, she dialed up Casey. “Yo, I’m here. Get your tiny butt down here, pronto. We have to haul ass if we’re going to get there on time.” Lanie screeched. “Chill, Lanes. Ill be down in 2 minutes. And may I remind you that I’m the one doing you the favor?” Casey jokingly spat back. “Yeah, yeah whatever. Hurry up.” The line went dead. Lanie shoved her phone back in her pocket, and pushed herself up against the wall. After a couple of
After a couple of minutes, Casey came racing out, her short blonde hair bouncing as she ran towards me. She had spiked it on the ends, giving her the whole ‘punk-rock pixie’ look. Casey was Lanies’ most athletic friend, and it showed. She had a rock hard four pack, and was skinny as Paris Hilton. “Oh my god, Casey, your hair is marvy. And you look great. Like, a mix between Jessica Alba and Lauren Conrad. Totally great.” Lanie squealed. “Shut up, Lanes. Lets hit the city baybayyyy!” Casey yelled, drawing out ‘baby’, making her seem like the adorable, female version of a frat boy. They climbed into her shiny red Honda Accord Coupe, Caseys’ ‘baby’, as she referred to it. Lanie liked her car better, a Yellow convertible Mini Cooper, that she had adored for years and had been given to her as a gift on her 16th birthday by her rich grandma. Casey punched on her radio, blaring ‘Tik Tok’ by Kesha, their favorite song to get them in the mood for a party.
After a couple of minutes, Casey came racing out, her short blonde hair bouncing as she ran towards me. She had spiked it on the ends, giving her the whole ‘punk-rock pixie’ look. Casey was Lanies’ most athletic friend, and it showed. She had a rock hard four pack, and was skinny as Paris Hilton. “Oh my god, Casey, your hair is marvy. And you look great. Like, a mix between Jessica Alba and Lauren Conrad. Totally great.” Lanie squealed. “Shut up, Lanes. Lets hit the city baybayyyy!” Casey yelled, drawing out ‘baby’, making her seem like the adorable, female version of a frat boy. They climbed into her shiny red Honda Accord Coupe, Caseys’ ‘baby’, as she referred to it. Lanie liked her car better, a Yellow convertible Mini Cooper, that she had adored for years and had been given to her as a gift on her 16th birthday by her rich grandma. Casey punched on her radio, blaring ‘Tik Tok’ by Kesha, their favorite song to get them in the mood for a party.
Casey started screaming the lyrics, and Lanie joined in. “I’m talking pedicures on our toes, toes, trying’ on all our clothes, clothes, boys blowing up our phones!” They started laughing at their horrible singing, and were soon in the mood, the ‘let’s party hardy’ mood, as they described it. “Woo!” Lanie screamed as she stuck her head out the window. She looked around, drinking in the people, the bright lights, the smells, the sounds, that city smell, which was like a dumpster full of fancy perfume, honey roasted nuts of every kind, and, something, that Lanie could never identify. She stuck her head back in the window, and flipped open the visor, to survey the damage done by the wind. “Damn, my hair is insane.” Her medium length, choppy, light and dark red hair, she had died it like Haley Williams from Paramore as soon as her dad had caved and let her, was all over the place. She reached in her bag and pulled out a paddle brush, yanking it through her air until it was straight again.
. Her phone started to ring, blaring “Chelsea, Chelsea I believe when your dancing
Slowly sucking your sleeve, The boys get lonely after you leave, It’s one for the Dagger and another for the one you believe!”, the upbeat, catchy song by The Fratellis, one of her favorite bands. “Yello?” Lanie chirped. “Hey hey hey babe, how it go?” Sydney chirped, Lanies’ tallest, modelesque, Twilight obsessed friend, who modeled her pretty, but punk-ish, look after Kristen Stewart, her idol. “ ‘Supp girly?” Lanie asked. “Whereyat?” Syd yelled back in her loud, excited voice. “On our way to SoHo, why?” Lanie, already knowing what she was going to ask, felt slightly stupid for asking. “Come pick me up! I’ll be at the deli on the corner of my street, what do you guys want?” Sydney inquired. “Yo, Casey we’re picking up Syd, what do you want from the deli.” Lanie asked. “We are? Well this is news to me. Okay, uhm, a diet coke.” Casey answered, confused.
. “Aight’, one diet coke, one red bull, the big one, and uhhh, a pack of spearmint gum.” Lanie requested. “You got it, see ya’ in 5. Love you!” Click. “Love you too I guess. What is it with people hanging up on me?” They pulled up to the deli, where Sydney was standing holding a white plastic bag, with ‘THANK YOU’ plastered all over it. “BABIES!” Sydney shouted, loud enough for everybody walking by to look at her like she had just escaped from a mental ward. Lanie laughed, and thought to herself, “My friends are effing awesome.” Sydney hopped in the car, throwing their drinks onto their laps. “Ouch, you stupid oafy tard!” They all laughed at Casey, because insults just didn’t sound right coming from her nimble frame.
. “LET’S HIT THE CITAYYY!” Sydney shouted, and punched on the radio, and soon enough they were all screaming ‘Hot Mess’ by one of their favorite bands, Cobra Starship. “You’re a hot mess and I’m falling for you, and I’m like, hot damn let me make you my boo, cause you can shake it, shake it, shake it, yeah you know what to do!” By the time they pulled up to the Orchid club, it was ten-oh five. “Were five minutes late guys, lets go!” They scrambled out of the car, throwing their keys to the valet, and rushing into the club.
Next is chappter, if you wanna read it(:
Luxurious Velvet Comforter