then, your first assignment will be to apply conflict in a dramatic situation.â Ms. B wrote FIRST WRITING ASSIGNMENT DUE TUESDAY on the whiteboard in large black letters. âI want you to think about a conflict you have experienced recently and dramatize it. It could be an argument with someone, a debate, or even a problem accomplishing something.â
Out of the corner of her eye, Elena saw a thin arm shoot up into the air. It was a familiar sight by now. The arm belonged to Dylan, the only girl with a pierced lip Elena had ever met. Her hair was black as ink, and she wore smudgy kohl eye shadow around her almond-shaped eyes. On Elena that eye makeup would look trashy, but on Dylan it looked model-cool. Dylan was attentive in class and seemed serious about playwriting. Elena knew right away that she was going to have the best work in class. âYes, Dylan?â Ms. B nodded in her direction.
âMs. B, can we use a fictional conflict?â
âIâm going to say no this time, Dylan. I admire your ambition, but weâll get to fiction later in the semester. This is just to get an idea of conflict. Anything else?â
Elena glanced at Dylan. She couldnât decide how she felt about this girl. On the one hand, she was impressed by her knowledge and ambition. But she also felt a stab of jealousy. Dylan was obviously going to be her toughest competition.
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Elena was kneeling on the floor of her room watching Jenna pull shirts from a bottomless black suitcase. It was Friday night, and Jenna was trying to figure out what to wear to the tapas bars. She had dragged her suitcase into Elenaâs tiny room so they could try on outfits together in front of the full-length mirror Señora Cruz had propped against one wall. Elena had decided on jeans and a pink top twenty minutes earlier. She offered her advice as Jenna pulled tops on, and then yanked them off moments later, flinging them on the floor as she vetoed each one.
âIâm almost ready-I swear,â Jenna called as she buzzed around the room in a skirt and bra, limping on one wedge sandal and searching for the other. âWhat do you think?â Jenna asked, holding up a trendy green top.
âCute,â Elena said.
âHmm,â Jenna turned and considered herself in the mirror. âNo, it makes me look fat.â
âOh, please,â Elena groaned. Jenna took off the shirt, revealing a perfectly flat belly.
Jenna finally decided on the first shirt sheâd tried onâa plain white tank topâwith dangly earrings. Elena waited another ten minutes as Jenna combed through the mess on the floor in search of her purse. She finally found it shoved beneath Elenaâs bed. The girls hastily piled the clothes back in Jennaâs suitcase, then said good-bye to the Cruzes.
âHave a good time,â Señora Cruz called. âPlease be back by twelve.â Elenaâs curfew at home was eleven thirty. Sheâd always held the suspicion that those extra thirty minutes could mean the difference between a fair evening and a truly memorable night. She was ready to find out.
The sun was sinking into the ocean as Elena and Jenna veered from the promenade toward the dorms. They hooked up with Marci and Caitlin at the front entrance of the dorm building as planned, and then headed out as a group toward the tapas bars to meet Alex.
As they entered the alleyways, the streetlights above the doorways were already lit and glowing fuzzy yellow. Alex was waiting at the Plaza de la Constitución with a blond guy.
âHey,â Alex called as the four girls approached. âThis is Chris. Chris, this is Elena, Jenna, Marci, and Caitlin.â
Chris offered each girl a polite handshake. Elena marveled at how much he looked like Alex. They could have been brothers. Chris wore baggy pants, a long-sleeve Billabong shirt, and a knit cap pulled down low over salt-ravaged hair. He was an all-American, California surfer
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