Creekwood Chronicles - Chapter 1
(remember: this is aimed at 12-15 year old girls)
Sunday 8/27, 3:35pm
My best friend Kiri Soo Park is probably the only Korean person in the U.S. that speaks redneck.
“Jaaay-ceee....?” Kiri drawls, sucking in her cheeks as she gazes into my purple-framed mirror with “Princess” scrawled at the top. “D'ya think one of those high-protein diets will make my face skinnier?”
Her accent is stronger than mine, and she had lived in Georgia since she was eight, while I have lived here my entire life. I didn't think she was fat at all, but she does have a roundish face characteristic of many Koreans. Kiri seems to think her round face is the one thing standing between her and stardom.
“Um, it might, but I heard they can also give you real bad breath. Remember Li?” I pointed out. Li Soong is a senior at our school, Creekwood Academy, and was an Atkins poster child until her boyfriend broke up with her because of her breath. Then she just joined the girl's Lacrosse team and ran off all her imaginary fat. Now she's dating some college lacrosse player.
Kiri flopped back on my pink and purple bedspread and contemplated Li's dragon breath before sighing and dragging a purple fuzzy pillow over her face. She screamed into the pillow, her flame-colored Docs flailing up into the air.
"Maybe you should join the lacrosse team...?" I laughed. Lacrosse was by far the most popular sport on campus, followed by soccer, as our football team has gone four straight seasons 0-6.
Just as suddenly, Kiri hurls the pillow aside and sits up. Which is unfortunate since I'm right in the middle of sketching her.
“Put that pencil down! Don't think I don't know you're drawing me again. I don't want to be in another one of your comic strips. That's what the Divas are for!” She waves madly at my sketch pad like she is trying to erase it with her hands.
The Divas also go to Creekwood Academy, and are comprised of jittery Mingyu Zhuang, ditzy Hea Jin Lee, and the purely evil Tosca Xia. Aside from being a Christian manga artist, my life dream is to see Tosca get buried in a vat of neon-green goo which would permanently stain her perfectly proportioned face. Except for that small voice of guilt inside my head that says I should be reaching out to Tosca instead of loathing her.
The school we go to is 75% Asian, as the city we live in, Duluth, Georgia, which is outside of Atlanta, has an enormous Asian community. The only reason I go there instead of public school is because Mrs. Park talked my mom into sending me and my siblings there 7 years ago, and my mom is big on 'getting a good education'. She almost sounds British whenever she says that. I like being at school with Kiri, but with ash-blonde hair, green eyes, and fair, freckled skin, I don't exactly blend in with the crowd.
Tosca and her clique call themselves the MySpace Divas, after the graphic design company they run on the internet. Half the school can be found chatting about the latest bulletin or seen wearing a Diva-brand tee off hours. Tosca is co-captain of the soccer team, with her designer clothes and perfect mouth. Kiri and I are sure she tapes her eyelids every morning to give her that bright ingénue look popular in Asian magazines. What makes her even more evil is her boyfriend, Shin Saitou, senior and captain of the Lacrosse team. Not because he's evil, but because he's absolutely perfect.
Of course, neither Tosca or Chin realize I exist except for being a 'token white girl' at CA. I don't play sports, I'm not Asian, and my family has lived in and around Duluth for generations. I'm hoping my comic strip might change some of that. Unfortunately, if I actually get it published, I probably can't make fun of them in any obvious way.
The comic strip I draw is called “Hallowed Halls” and I have been drawing like crazy in an attempt to get it published in the school newspaper. It's not all that sophisticated, just usually a tri-panel comic that makes fun of something at Creekwood. So far, I haven't been able to get it published because the editor of the paper, Ryan Kim, thinks it lacks “panache”, which I had to look up in a dictionary because I had no idea what the word meant. Ryan has a tendency to say stuff like that all the time and he really believes everyone understands what he is saying. I'm also not sure if he thinks anything has 'panache' that he didn't actually write himself.
“Uggghhhh...” moans Kiri, imitating a dying moose. “It's almost four. I'm going to have to go soon or mom will take away my practice time again.”
Kiri wants to be a Christian rock artist, but her parents want her to be a classical pianist. Kiri is so good that she can make the piano sound amazing while not actually practicing anything remotely related to her lessons. However, the moment she picked up her first Fender guitar, she was truly in love. For a long time she hid it from her parents, playing at the music store and then at my house, but finally a couple years ago she confessed to her dad. It took another year for her mom to relent, but I think Mrs. Park now enjoys the newfound power she has over Kiri in allowing it. One steel-toed boot out of line and Kiri's white Fender gets locked up in the gun cabinet in the basement.
Why the Parks own a gun cabinet when they don't actually own any guns was something I've never quite understood.
Kiri was right though. It was getting late, and we both had youth group tonight. There wasn't much spiritual going on at my church's youth group tonight, since it was a “Back to School” pizza party. Kiri's youth group was studying Isaiah. They had been studying Isaiah in depth for three months now, and Kiri said they still hadn't gotten halfway through the book.
“I'll talk to Dad again about going to the Jeremy Camp concert next week, but I don't think Mama's going to let me,” Kiri said as she stumbled toward the door. I shrug. “Dad's going, so it may just be another round of the 'Embarrass Jacie Show',” I replied. “So not Pocky.” Pocky is a Japanese sweet, sorta like a thin pretzel dipped in chocolate. Kiri and I started using Pocky as a verb to mean something really cool or sweet.
At Christian concerts, my Dad makes most fangirls look calm. “I can ask Mom to say something to your Mom, though, if you want.”
My dad only became a Christian last year, after we had prayed for him for years. My mom got saved just after I was born, through a neighbor, and all us kids had become Christians at young ages through her. Dad was rather resistant for a long time, but once he gave up to God he became somewhat of a super-Christian.
Kiri being at the concert would support me in my embarrassment, and she would get to see a Christian artist she admired. If her mother wouldn't let her go, then I don't know what I'm going to do. Plead sickness? Homework? Insanity?
Going through the door, Kiri waves one hand back and I hear her stomp all the way down the stairs.
I hope you'll post an excerpt from some of your recent work here - I've only seen bits and pieces of your new fiction but it looks fantastic. Also please give the writing assignment a try as well. Yes I am actually begging. 
We need more serious writers involved in the contest - not for my sake but for the aspiring writers around here who need a forum for regular writing and meaningful feedback.
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