So I'm wracking my brain trying to think up what it was I did that I wasn't supposed to do. It's true, I've broken some writing rules:
I confess to using an adverb. Or two. Or twenty. Or two hundred. And it's true, I did send out those queries that one time when I knew that the whole book was a "practice" run in the publishing trenches.
But what about real life? Something almost as exciting as holding hands with a good boy in the park as Vi does.
She had a driver's license and I didn't, even though I was older. But she hadn't had it long enough to merit Dad's approval. The rule was no driving with someone under 21. I knew it. But it was late, and I'd just experienced a very giddy night - probably the most giddy-stupid you can be without being drunk or high or anything illegal. And it made somewhat logical sense for her to drive me home. At 11 o'clock at night. I knew the rules. But I'd already broken the no-flirting rule that night. I was on a roll.
When I arrived home, the parents asked me who had brought me home. And I cannot tell a lie. I got the
My phone was in my purse because we'd been playing in a (legally playable) fountain and I hadn't wanted it to get wet. I hadn't had the presence of mind to check it later.
I was sorry. I did regret it. I still do, and, if I could go back, I wouldn't spoil such a fun evening with chagrin and regret and shame at the end of the night. But, I've made the most of it. The event is my one typical teenage moment. Why didn't you answer your phone? You're late. Who did you ride home with? What were you thinking? I mean, for a moment there, I felt very, very normal.
When did you break the rules?