The WRA Draft

Chapter Thirteen: The First Edit

I entered the hall right behind the two teachers. They were holding the copies of the drafts in their hands. "So? Did you like it?"

Mr. Kelsall smiled. "I really enjoyed it. How much research did you do?"

"Way too much. Times when we had snow days, Clayton, Brian, Amia, and Becca would come to my house and help with research. Brian and Amia even scored an interview with a woman who's mother was a suffragette. She had a journal and told us stories about her mother going off to protests."

"She must have been older than dirt!" Mrs. Fay joked.

"Oh, she was."

"Did the four help write the script?" Mr. Kelsall asked.

"No, I did all of the writing. They were my research team."

"Well," He flipped briefly through the script. "it's definitely accurate. I think what you need to focus on, however, is grammar."

Mrs. Fay nodded. "Grammar is an issue. You'll have to go through and do that. It's best to go through and edit by hand, not any of those grammar websites. They're extremely inaccurate."

"Yeah, I figured." I nodded gravely.

"Also," Mr. Kelsall found a certain spot toward the beginning. "There's a part in the beginning where Gloria is about seven, I think? Her father when he speaks about the Act...he's way too racist for a man who's supposed to be a psychologist."

"That's was what I was going for," I answered. "That's the odd thing about him. There has to be character in people."

"I don't consider these flaws, Miss Mora. This man, he's a flat out donkey."

"Donkey?" I tilted my head slightly.

What's another word for donkey?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Oh."

"But yes, you should probably lighten up his racism."

"But he's a racist psychologist."

"But psychologists are supposed to see all sides of people's problems."

"But they can still be racist."

Mr. Kelsall and I continued to argue quietly for a minute before Mrs. Fay finally spoke up.

"Will you two quit?" she demanded. "Olivia, I see your point entirely, but you should at least look into it; see if you can spot any changes you'd like to make."

I nod. "I can do that."

"Would you like these scripts back?" Mr. Kelsall asks. I shake my head.

"Keep 'em. My grandparents bought me a brand new printer and accidently bought four hundred packets of paper when they meant to buy four."

"How does one do that?" Mrs. Fay giggled.

"I ask myself that question every day. All I know if that I need to get rid of some paper. Besides, I'd like to keep all of the drafts with their changes."

"How will you be editing?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I'll probably go through my paper copy and edit with a pen then make changes online. A tip I got from Kasey Green."

"Oh, I love Kasey!" Mrs. Fay gushes. "He's a talented writer."

"I know." I smiled. "That's why I asked him for tips. It's easier to get advice from people you really know than someone you met just the other day."

"Words to live by, Miss Mora." Mr. Kelsall grins. "Truly some great work you have here. We'll leave you to your meeting."

"Thank you, both, for agreeing to edit. We'd be writing forever had you not stepped in. Thank you from all of us."

"You're sure this is allowed?" Mrs. Fay asked.

"I checked the packet three times and called them. I'm pretty sure it's okay."

Mrs. Fay and Mr. Kelsall share a smile. "You're very welcome then," they say simultaneously. I chuckle.

"I'll you tomorrow." I walk back into the Gray Room. I watch Clayton as he draws frantically on the board while other students yell out guesses as to what he's drawing.

"It's a laptop!" someone shouts.

"Book!" someone else guesses.

I think of what he could be drawing when he adds a person to the set-up. Clayton has always been an amazing artist and it wasn't long until he was finished with a detailed drawing and students were still guessing.

"Draw more!" they demanded.

"I don't know what else to add." Clayton laughs shaking his head. He catches my eye and I see something spark in his eyes.

He turns around and erases to the face of the person. He glances back at me every once and a while and soon I realize he's drawing me. A small grin inches onto my lips as I keep quiet.

Clayton erases the hair of the person and redoes it to match the two french braids I have in my hair now.

Still, students can't get it.

Clayton lets out a frustrated cry. On the laptop screen, he writes in all capital letters, THE WRA DRAFT.

"It's a play writer!" someone yells.

"You're so close!" Clayton lets them know. More terrible guesses are shouted out before Clayton looks at me with defeated eyes.

Try different colors, I suggested silently. Clayton reads my lips. His eyes lit up once more. He was only using a black marker to draw, but I watched amazed as he uses a blue marker to recreate my dark blue sweatshirt. On it, it reads The Bluecoats, my favorite drum corp.

Taylor gets it instantly. She shoots to her feet and screams, "It's Olivia!"

"Yes!" Clayton reveals excitedly. "Finally! Seriously, guys, I was practically drawing her portrait!" He gestured back to me.

My peers' eyes follow Clayton's hand to face me. I give a small wave. "Hi."

"Oh, her sweatshirt," some students mumbled and conversed quietly and I made my way back to the front.

"What're Bluecoats, anyway?" Brian asks curiously.

"Oh, God, you've killed us all!" Toby moans. I glare at him and turn to Brian, ready to answer his question.

"The Bluecoats are a drum corp," I explain. "They compete in DCI competitions. DCI stands for Drum Corp International. The Bluecoats are just one of the hundreds of corps; Phantom Regiment, Carolina Crown, the Cadets, Cavaliers—"

"The Cleveland Cavaliers have a corp?" Brian gawked at me, shocked. Some other students got a little excited.

Taylor began laughing. She managed to say through giggles, "That's the most sporty thing I've ever heard! Oh, you poor thing! That sounded so innocent!"

Toby laughs along with her while I roll my eyes with a grin.

"Don't be mean. You don't even what a foul is," I say.

Taylor narrows her eyes at me. "Touché."

"Brain, no, the Cavaliers corp are based in Rosemount, Illinois. They're not my favorite, but they have some good shows."

Brian nodded his head thoughtfully. "I see." He was quiet for a moment before adding, "What's a corp?"

I sighed. "It's like professional marching band."

The rest of the class let out oh's and I get it's. I shook my head.

Kasey finally spoke up, "Is this what you're meeting consist of?"

"No, you missed all of the good parts." I grinned at him. He gives a heart chuckle as I return to my spot in front of the class. Glancing at my notes, I move onto our next item of business.