I... I fail to see Fitzpatrick's logic here. She had everything she needed for a nice Crowning Moment of Awesome here that could've slightly redeemed Nora in my eyes (read, before the next chapter no doubt sinks her back to the deepest pits of Stupid Psycho again). Like you said, there were so many oppertunities to that! She says Nora apparently gets tougher in this book, and she had such a nice situtation to show it with! I am a shitty author and it probably won't be as long or as good as other ones, but I feel I HAVE to do this! SPITEFIC!
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I felt it. I felt my whole body shake, I felt like I was burning up from white-hot fury. I felt my nails dig so deep into my hands I almost thought they would start to bleed. I felt like I could and should beat that Marcie so hard it’d leave her as nothing more than a pile of red mush. And that was exactly what I was going to do! I grabbed her and slammed her into the wall, earning a short, high-pitched cry from her and, I figured, the stares of everyone around us. As I prepared my second punch, she turned her head away and small tears started to escape from her eyes. But that didn’t matter! She was going to get the beating of a lifetime!
…
…No. No, I wouldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. I was better than this; I was sixteen years old, nearly an adult. I was old enough to not answer mere words with punches.
I breathed heavily, trying to expel the wrath with each breath. After what I guessed was around fifteen seconds, it started working and I started to calm down. In the meantime, Marcie slowly opened an eye, obviously wondering what I was waiting for. I took one final breath, closed my eyes and removed the hand I was holding near her throat.
“I’m… sorry,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The little that was left from my rage cried that I shouldn’t apologize, that she should. The other, more mature part of my mind eventually managed to quiet it down. She had already gotten a handbag in the head, a punch in the face and probably the scare of a decade. That was enough.
“Sorry?” Marcie parroted with a tone that made it seem like I had just told her that a giraffe had eaten my underpants or something equally unbelievable. I could only nod, and then I turned to Vee. She had a look on her face that would feel right at home in a cartoon, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.
“Come on, Vee. We should go somewhere worth our time. I don’t think Rixon’s coming anyway. If he was going to, he’d already be here,” I told her, adding the last sentences as she started to protest. After about a second, she nodded.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll let her off the hook. This time,” she said, making the “I’m watching you” gesture to the still stunned Marcie.
“Come on then!” she said with a smile, grabbing my arm. “I got tons of great movies at home we can watch! And I think I still got a bag of chips somewhere!”
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Date: 2012-11-15 11:52 am (UTC)---------------------------------------
I felt it. I felt my whole body shake, I felt like I was burning up from white-hot fury. I felt my nails dig so deep into my hands I almost thought they would start to bleed. I felt like I could and should beat that Marcie so hard it’d leave her as nothing more than a pile of red mush. And that was exactly what I was going to do! I grabbed her and slammed her into the wall, earning a short, high-pitched cry from her and, I figured, the stares of everyone around us. As I prepared my second punch, she turned her head away and small tears started to escape from her eyes. But that didn’t matter! She was going to get the beating of a lifetime!
…
…No. No, I wouldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. I was better than this; I was sixteen years old, nearly an adult. I was old enough to not answer mere words with punches.
I breathed heavily, trying to expel the wrath with each breath. After what I guessed was around fifteen seconds, it started working and I started to calm down. In the meantime, Marcie slowly opened an eye, obviously wondering what I was waiting for. I took one final breath, closed my eyes and removed the hand I was holding near her throat.
“I’m… sorry,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The little that was left from my rage cried that I shouldn’t apologize, that she should. The other, more mature part of my mind eventually managed to quiet it down. She had already gotten a handbag in the head, a punch in the face and probably the scare of a decade. That was enough.
“Sorry?” Marcie parroted with a tone that made it seem like I had just told her that a giraffe had eaten my underpants or something equally unbelievable. I could only nod, and then I turned to Vee. She had a look on her face that would feel right at home in a cartoon, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.
“Come on, Vee. We should go somewhere worth our time. I don’t think Rixon’s coming anyway. If he was going to, he’d already be here,” I told her, adding the last sentences as she started to protest. After about a second, she nodded.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll let her off the hook. This time,” she said, making the “I’m watching you” gesture to the still stunned Marcie.
“Come on then!” she said with a smile, grabbing my arm. “I got tons of great movies at home we can watch! And I think I still got a bag of chips somewhere!”
I felt her smile spread to my own face.
“That’d be nice.”