WHOOPS Blogfest!!

Okay, so I'm a little late. But that's totally my style. Better late than never though right? Laurel hosted this great blogfest and I had planned on this scene from my new WIP, but it's not completely polished. Hope you enjoy...

By the time lunch rolled around, hearing his nickname didn’t seem like the worst thing ever. A zero in Language Arts class was much worse. The wrath of his mom would out-do Bree Meyers any day.

Cam grabbed his lunch tray and walked toward his table. A tap on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks and he turned around.

“Oh. Um. Hey.” Cam stuttered, desperately trying not to look directly into her face.

Bree flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows while an amused smile played on her lips.“Listen, Cam. So, I guess I kind of overreacted yesterday. I just wanted to call a truce. Listening to everyone call you Broccoli Spewer is painful enough for your ego.”

She reached out her hand as Cam fumbled with his lunch tray and tried to not freak out over the fact that he was touching Bree Meyers. The Bree Meyers.

Cam couldn’t believe his ears. She had called him by his first name. She remembered his name! She was touching him! He was touching her. Oh, and most importantly she was calling a truce. Things couldn’t get much better.

“Whatever. Don’t look too pleased with yourself, or I might just take it back.”

Turning around, Cam felt like a prize rooster, as he strut his stuff over to the lunch table, when Bree called his name again. The moment was in slow motion, like straight from a movie. Cam turned his torso around to see the smug look on Bree’s face right before an entire tray of spaghetti with red meat sauce slammed into his face.

And then a flash. A camera flash. Shocked and confused, his mouth fell open as the heat of embarrassment rushed his face. Cam felt like crawling into a hole and dying. The only reason he was thankful for the red sauce was for the fact that it was hiding the color of his cheeks, which probably matched the sauce perfectly.

Laughter erupted. Every eyeball was on Cam, basking in his mortification.

“Oh. You didn’t think you were going to get off that easily, did you?” Bree asked as a lone noodle slipped down Cam’s face, falling into his shirt.

In two days he had managed to be attacked by two different types of cafeteria food.

He couldn’t decide which was worse. This one was documented and would be forever remembered in history with a photo to back it up. Spaghetti in face was definitely worse.

Cam stood motionless, unsure of the best way to rectify this situation as Bree sauntered off to her table. Jordan and Bryan jumped up from the table and ran over to help. It was surprising to Cam that they would even claim him in a moment like this.

Deciding to dodge the stares of the onlookers all around him, he took a small step toward the exit of the cafeteria. Bad idea. The sauce was as slippery as baby oil. One step into the mess was all it took to send his foot flying up into the air and his body to eat cafeteria floor. The sting of slamming into concrete was painful, but the sting of the uproarious laughter was worse.

As he lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling, he wondered if he could revert back to his toddler days when closing his eyes tightly would mean he was invisible. He closed his eyes tightly. Hoping. Wishing. Dreaming. Praying.

He slowly opened one eye to peek out, but no such luck. Jordan and Bryan were standing over top of him and the laughing still had not stopped. Insta-mortification. Bree style.

Might as well forget those high hopes of ever becoming Mr. Popular.