I got a 91 Toyota mr2 that I scrapped parts off. I’m taking out the engine and trans, along with suspension. No rear tires. I stripped the interior and a couple of wiring harnesses retains a steering wheel with airbag, interior carpeting, and seats, drivers side door panel, heater core, dash harness.. windshield is cracked but all other glass including t-tops are fine. mr2s are rare so they’ll be sought after a bit more. no tailights

It’s not very far along yet.

My main character Ben is on a road trip with his older brother, his brother’s best friend, and his own best friend. While in a traffic jam, a mechanic named Dave gives them directions on how to get to where they need to go. Later in the story, Dave catches up with the group and holds them hostage because of what Ben’s brother saw.

Based on a few suggestions and comments, I have edited parts of the beginning of my short story.

Sorry, I know the story is a bit slow.

The van smells like rotten eggs with a hint of wet dog. I sit in the middle row, scrunching my nose in disgust as I continue looking out the soda-splattered window. The few trees and plants outside were not moving at all. It feels as if the whole world was standing still.
In the driver’s seat, I hear Mike mumbling curse words. He is impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, looking as though he going to explode in anger. We haven’t moved an inch in over forty-five minutes. The van is at the end of the line in the traffic jam so none of us know what is going on. People in front of us are jumping out of their cars and walking up to where the problem seems to be. Some of them look ticked off, waving their hands hysterically in the air, frustrated and wanting to get out of here. Others were looking around in dismay, wondering what could be causing this big of a hold up.
A muscular man with sweat dripping down his face and onto the collar of his faded blue shirt was heading toward our vehicle. It’s an extremely hot day, the sun beating down on him as he walks up to every car and delivers news. He knocks on the window, and Mike rolls it down.
"What’s going on?" Mike asks.
The balding man takes off his baseball hat, sighs, and rubs his crinkled forehead. "Road construction." His voice is very deep and has a rusty tone to it.
"We’re all the way back here because of road construction?" Mike snaps, throwing himself back into the seat.
The man nods. "Said we’ll be here at least another thirty minutes," he says in his heavy Texas accent. I guess he is a mechanic because of the grease covering his shirt and hands. There is a patch in the left-hand corner of the shirt that had the name "Dave" stitched into it.
"We’re never going to make it there before sunset!" Mike exclaims.
Dave leans farther in, resting his arms on Mike’s window. "Where ya’ll headed?"
Personally, I don’t think Mike should be talking to a complete stranger about where we are heading. I don’t want to be rude and tell Mike not to say, so I keep mouth shut. Afterall, I don’t want to make a huge mechanic mad.
"Burkley," Mike says.
"Ah. Well if ya’ll turn ’round, you can take Highway 75 out to Northbound 277 and you will be able to get there," Dave tells my brother.
"Do I just keep driving on 277?" Mike inquires, obviously interested in getting out of the giant traffic jam.
"Yes, sir," Dave says. "After a couple ‘a miles, ya’ll should see a sign that says ‘Burkley – Five Miles West’."
Mike nods. "Thank you so much," he sounds truly thankful.
"Not a problem," says Dave.
Dave waves as he walks away. I turn around in my seat to see what he was driving. He hops into an old beat up red pick-up truck that looked as if it had been in a tornado.
Since we are at the very end of the line of cars, Mike begins to turn around without a problem. Within seconds, we are on the road again. I sigh of relief and smile.
I look to my left to see Shawn sleeping. His head is hanging down, a little bit of drool dripping down his chin. His head keeps bopping up and down. In his hand, he holds his CD player with a loose grip.
Keith is sleeping up in the passenger seat. His bare feet on the dash board, and his face pressed against the window. That sleeping position had to be uncomfortable.
Mike is finally calm. He is nothing like he normally is. All day, he has been stressing about what to pack and how to pack it. Normally care-free and chaotic, became orderly and structured. All today, he has been acting more like me than himself.
"Ben," Mike says. "Get me a soda."
Sighing, I nod. The van is so crammed with all of our stuff that the only place to put the mini-cooler was in the middle of Shawn’s legs. I reach over, trying not to wake him up, which I fail at. Shawn’s eyes pop open. He lets out a loud yawn and stretches.
"Sorry," I tell him.
He shrugs. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere on 277," I say. "Some guy came up and gave us directions to get out of there while we were stuck in traffic." I lean back in my seat, waiting for Shawn to say something.
"Oh." I could tell he didn’t really care.
"Ben! Soda!" Mike yells at me as I realize I still have the soda in my hand, letting the water drip all over my jeans.
"Sorry," I mumble as he extends his arm and grabs the can out of my hand.

Would you continue reading it or is it just too boring? Any other comments?

Thanks!

You want to read? Only the first chapter as a teaser. I hope you like it. I do want some good critisism, if that’s possible. Here you are. The first chapter of "I’m The Undead".

Prologue

Maybe it was because I was stupidly looking for a shoulder to rest on. Perhaps it started out as a friendly, sunny day, in a creepy, dusty classroom. But I think, if I’m not mistaken, that it must have started with my pet hamster. Now, you may be wondering what I’m talking about. What in the hell could a pet hamster do that was so horrible? First of all, it wasn’t really the hamster’s fault. Second of all, it was inevitable that I was going to make some psychotic enemies. And third of all, the only way to figure out how this happened, how I died, is to listen to the story and try to keep a straight face. No joke, because this really happened…

PART ONE

Chapter 1
“B-b-b-b-bad to the bone…” the radio stuttered to a halt at my favorite part of the song. I hit the dashboard with my fist and it started to smoke. My mom gave me a warning look. I shrugged with an angelic smile but as she turned the steering wheel to the left, I managed to tug off my shoe and give it a few hard slaps. Bam bam BOOM! It began to play.
She snatched my shoe away from me and threw it back into my lap. She gave me another warning look and turned back to the steering wheel. At least the radio was back on. The song had already ended, though, and a sappy love song was playing. I sighed and turned the cursed radio off. Mom gave me a pity-filled smile and patted my knee.
“You’ll be fine, Jakkalen. This is the best school around.” I gave a harrumph and turned to look out the window. This was the only school around. How could such a small town have such fancy buildings and no schools? How could we get the “best” school and house (in my opinion) in town?
I looked out the windshield again and held my breath. Maybe she wouldn’t notice? A tiny school was partly hidden behind some pine trees. It was brown and green and I probably wouldn’t have seen it except that I picked up the silhouettes of people scrambling over logs and chasing each other.
Mom turned her right blinker on and swerved the old red Toyota pick-up truck down the pine needle path. I groaned. Of course I couldn’t be that lucky. She had just as good eyesight as I did. I made goo-goo eyes at her.
“Please! Stop before it’s too late. Take me back to Maryland!” She shook her head with a small smile and I sank down into the seat. She came to a halt right in front of the school. I slid out. It was an old building. Brown roofing partly covered with tree bark and pine cones and…squirrels? A little black squirrel stared at me with interest. I quickly looked down. Who knows? It might have rabies.
The siding was a dark green speckled with light that filtered weakly through the trees. Logs were scattered all around which boys and girls my age were climbing over and exploring. They didn’t even look up.
I walked slowly to the front door of the high school and was amazed at how big it actually was. There were probably 5 stories and probably a small number of giant rooms. I stood in the doorway studying the hall. Wooden flooring and a chandelier seemed to be the only thing remotely similar to furnishings. But there was a staircase to the left that probably led to more schoolrooms and there were three doors. One door was in the wall to the left by the staircase, another one in front of me, and one to my right. Oh yippee, more classrooms.
I turned to leave and jumped. Everyone was staring at me. They had stopped their games and sat precariously on their logs to study me. Somehow, Mom had slipped away unnoticed. Their staring made me self-conscious. I had on a pair of generic blue jeans that flared out. I had brown sandals with beads and lots of braiding. My shirt was an indigo one with cookie monster on it saying “C is for Cookie.” I turned pink. Maybe it would have been better to go to school naked rather than wear this shirt. Didn’t they know it was rude to stare?
A blonde girl smirked and her three brunettes frowned at me. The boys had covered their mouths and had a coughing fit where they exchanged teary-eyed glances. I knew they were laughing. A girl with dark brown hair that curled around her shoulders looked at me with a twinkle in her hazel green eyes. Another girl sat on a log with straight black hair and black eyes circled in a thin coat of eyeliner. She laughed outright. Not afraid to stand out, huh? I think I might like her.
I cleared my throat. Man, when would the teachers come? And speak of the devil, a small Prius slid to a smooth halt. More cars began to arrive before the first car could unload. The girl with curly hair called out to me urgently.
“Hey you! Girl! Get over here before you get into trouble!” I smiled in relief. I took three long strides and ended up by her and the blonde prissy pants. I already didn’t like her.
A tall muscular man st
Dang. It stopped half way through the chapter. I’ll put the rest up when someone asks me to. Come on! Ask me!
I’m putting more up now. I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m ready to email anyone the story yet. But you can read the things I’ve already edited and deem acceptable for public.
WORD TO ALL WHO ARE INTERESTED. I’ve JUST OPENED A BLOGGER ACCOUNT UNDER THE NAME SOLO_GRL. COME CHECK ME OUT! I’LL GET SOMETHING POSTED! (caps are intentional.)

So this past week I’ve been paranoid thinking that my heater core in my 96 Grand Am was bad, well today I realized something pretty strange, only the bottom part of my hands ( that’s on the steering wheel) smell like something strong..it smells like oil. Nothing else on my body, not even my arms smell like it, and the person in the passengers side seat doesn’t smell like it either..which is kind of weird since the vents are blowing all kinds of air on us. So then I smelled my steering wheel and there is a veryyyy strong smell on there. So do you think there is something wrong with my car making my steering wheel smell like this? Or do you think the guy I got the car from had oil or something on his hands while doing work to the car? Also, is there something I could use to wash it off? I don’t think plain ol water will work. Thanks

I have a 2 door, Limited Edition 1969 Buick Electra. It has a custom paint job (green, and striped). It has eletric seats and windows, air conditioning and heater, all new interior, crome rims, tinted windows, runs great, in amazing condition, AM/FM radio, plays cassettes, tilted steering wheel, air shocks, and a 430 engine. Its won car awards. can anyone give me a estimate of how much its worth. please give serious answers. i know its worth quit a bit.

I plan on buying the latest model to come out by Toyota…the all new redesigned full luxury and highly anticipated "2011 Toyota Recall Sedan" These will have 3 gas peddles and 4 brake peddles just in case any or all of them fail. It includes an extra pop up steering wheel as well in case that fails like the Corollas. And extra rust proofing on the trucks so they don’t break in two while driving…oh yes, there’s even a triple drive shaft installed in case the other two crack and fall off while driving. Every thing seems to be covered on the all new 2011 Toyota Recall luxury sedan. They’ve even changed the cheap silver painted plastic from spray painted artificial silver to splatter black, red, green or, purple for the dash board. You can even get the seat fabric that color, as long as you realize it will be made of recycled baby diapers which have been splatter dyed for high quality. But order early..they may be the only safe Toyotas on the highway.
..Gone.. (below) …uhhh, let me guess, your a Republican right? Did you forget what 8 years of Bush did? He caused this. He was your savior, where is he now, but living in luxury while the rest of the planet suffers. He hides like Sadam did in his secret hole because all the world hates him for the devastation he reeked on human civilization. Hile Bush..king of the asholes

It’s a suspense story for my writing class. It’s not very far along yet.

My main character Ben is on a road trip with his older brother, his brother’s best friend, and his own best friend. While in a traffic jam, a mechanic named Dave gives them directions on how to get to where they need to go. Later in the story, Dave catches up with the group and kidnaps one of them.

Sorry, I know the story is a bit slow.

The van smells like rotten eggs with a hint of wet dog. I sit in the middle row, scrunching my nose in disgust as I continue looking out the soda-splattered window. The few trees and plants that were outside were not moving at all. It felt as if the whole world was standing still.
In the driver’s seat, I hear Mike mumbling curse words. He is impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, looking as if he was going to explode in anger. We haven’t moved an inch in over forty-five minutes. The van was at the end of the line in the traffic jam so none of us know what is going on. People in front of us were jumping out of their cars and walking up to where the problem seemed to be.
Suddenly, someone knocks on our window, Mike rolls it down.
"What’s going on?" Mike asks.
The balding man sighs and rubs his crinkled forehead. "Road construction."
"We’re all the way back here because of road construction?" Mike snaps, throwing himself back into the seat.
The man nods. "Said we’ll be here at least another thirty minutes," he says in his heavy Texas accent. I guess he is a mechanic because of the grease covering his shirt and hands. There is a patch in the left-hand corner of the shirt that had the name "Dave" stitched into it.
"We’re never going to make it there before sunset!" Mike exclaims.
Dave leans farther in, resting his arms on Mike’s window. "Where ya’ll headed?"
Personally, I don’t think Mike should be talking to a complete stranger about where we are heading. I don’t want to be rude and tell Mike not to say, so I keep mouth shut. Afterall, I didn’t want to make a huge mechanic mad.
"Burkley," Mike says.
"Ah. Well if ya’ll turn ’round, you can take Highway 75 out to Northbound 277 and you will be able to get there," Dave tells my brother.
"Do I just keep driving on 277?" Mike inquires, obviously interested in getting out of the giant traffic jam.
"Yes, sir," Dave says. "After a couple ‘a miles, ya’ll should see a sign that says ‘Burkley – Five Miles West’."
Mike nods. "Thank you so much," he sounds truly thankful.
"Not a problem," says Dave.
Dave waves as he walks away. I turn around in my seat to see what he was driving. He had hopped into an old beat up red pick-up truck that looked as if it had been in a tornado.
Since we are at the very end of the line of cars, Mike begins to turn around without a problem. Within seconds, we are on the road again. I sigh of relief and smile.
I look to my left to see Shawn sleeping. His head is hanging down, a little bit of drool dripping down his chin. His head keeps bopping up and down. In his hand, he holds his CD player with a lose grip.
Keith is sleeping up in the passenger seat. His bare feet on the dash board and his face pressed against the window. That sleeping position had to be uncomfortable.
Mike is finally calm. He is nothing like he normally is. All day, he had been stressing about what to pack and how to pack it. Normally care-free and chaotic, became orderly and structured. Today, he was more like me than himself.
"Ben," Mike says. "Get me a soda."
Sighing, I nod. The van is so crammed with all of our stuff that the only place to put the mini-cooler was in the middle of Shawn’s legs. I reach over, trying not to wake him up, which I fail at. Shawn’s eyes pop open. He lets out a loud yawn and stretches.
"Sorry," I tell him.
He shrugs. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere on 277," I say. "Some guy came up and gave us directions to get out of there while we were stuck in traffic." The more I thought about Dave, if that was even his real name, the creepier he seemed. His voice was deep and had a rusty sound to it. The guy just freaks me out.
"Oh." I could tell he didn’t really care.
"Ben! Soda!" Mike yells at me.
"Sorry!" he extends his arm and grabs the soda from my hand.

Would you continue reading it or is it just too boring? What did you like about it? What didn’t you like about it?

Thanks! Much appreciated!

Sorryy, this is a pretty long.. this is from the guy’s p.o.v., David. It alternates between him and the girl, Jenna, in the whole story. here we go:

I stared at my steering wheel, both hands gripping it like it was the only solid thing left in the world. To me, it felt like it was. She had left me about fiffteen minutes ago, striding out across the way over to the little gas station/restaraunt. I watched her walk slowly the whole way there.. speechless, the oxygen knocked clean out of my lungs. She told me what she had been keeping inside for no telling how long… Why I couldn’t be that brave, I don’t know. May have saved me a lot of trouble in the end. Her clear voice told me how she felt about Jeremy.. and me. And well, I couldn’t have felt a more complex feeling. He was utterly my best friend. I would do anything for him, Jonathon, and Garrett. ..And I’d do anything for her. She was beautiful. I loved everything about her. But, my boy… my boy Jeremy. Ole’ Jeremo.

Shit. I had fallen in love with a girl that had already been fallen in love with. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had to grip my seat to keep from jumping up and flying after her as she walked away, hold my hand back to keep from wiping the tears that flowed down her creamy cheeks. And looking into those big blue eyes, them filled with tears…it broke my heart.
I felt myself smile as I remembered how gorgeous she looked as she spun around in the pouring rain… how sensual. That girl was a picture. Honestly, the sweetest most darling thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe she said what she did.. about me finding another girl.. Damn, if she only knew.
Then, I couldn’t help but think of Jeremy. How he talked about her alllll the time. In love? Ha, he adored Jenna. But then again, I did, too.
So I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Go for the girl you love, that loves you back, and break your best friend’s heart? Or leave the amazing girl be, miss out on the chance of a lifetime.. know you’ll probably never feel the same way again, and keep your friend happy with you. At that time, I faintly felt a warm tear rolling down my still wet cheeks.
I don’t know… I just don’t know! Love was crazy! It had me doing stuff I’d never thought I’d do before! I’d never even half way consider choosing a girl over my buds.. ever. Maybe talk to them about it if there was a conflict and I liked her enough. But this girl… dammmnn. She had me thinking otherwise.
What was I going to do?
Jeremy was ultimately my best friend. End of story.
…I couldn’t hurt him like this. I had to leave her be. God, this was going to hurt sooo bad…
I took what little strength left in me and put the truck in reverse. I started backing out of the parking lot and rode over to Dodge’s.
Why did you fall in love with her?? Why did you do this to yourself?
I had my mind painfully set to be clear and stern with her as I parked and climbed out of the truck. But as soon as I walked in, saw her sitting there, her long, thick hair damp and hanging in soft waves, her light clothes dark and damp, sticking to her creamy skin as those big blue eyes lit up when they looked up at me… I was deteriorated.
We looked at each other for a moment, and as I felt my gaze softening and saw her tear stained cheeks, I quickly tried snap out of it and tried to cover up the very deep affection I had for her.. something extremely hard to do. I swallowed and looked down at my feet, sticking my hands in my pockets.
"I think we should be getting back to Starkville."
I could feel the way she was looking at me.. so sad and heartbroken. I knew not to even DARE to look back.
After a moment, she got up, grabbed her coke, and threw away her seemingly untouched food. She stared at the floor as she walked out the door, and all I could see was her long eyelashes.
I sighed internally swallowing down a lump of hurt as I saw the confusion in her eyes and wished to God I hadn’t kissed her.. even though I had dreamed of it since I met her, I wish I hadn’t made everything worse today… But, the way her lips slid over mine and her hands combed through my hair… wow. I shook my head and climbed in the driver’s side of the truck as she climbed in the passenger’s.
She remained so quiet the ride back, it worried me. I couldn’t even hear her breathing. I wanted to just pull over and reach over there and cup her face in my hands. But I might as well quit wishing those things.
At a quarter after four, we pulled up at her apartment, and we sat idly, not having said one thing since back at Dodge’s.
I looked over at her and watched as she sighed. She then slowly opened up the door and my breath caught in my throat.
"Jen?"
She looked over at me with soft eyes.
"I’m sorry."
She looked at me and narrowed her eyes, her way of holding back tears.
"Me too."
I looked at her and felt my heart shattering bit by bit.
"..We can still be friends.. can’t we?" I pleaded.
She looked at me, "…I guess."
"Alright."
I tried a small smile on her, and she seemed to just turn away from me, walking up the steps to the apartment doorway. As I watched her walk away, my heart broke into a billion little pieces. Tears welled up in my eyes. I stared at my steering wheel for minutes. As I finally put in in drive and started pulling back out onto the highway, those tears exploded. I was crying.. crying hard. As I drove carelessly down the highway, I propped my elbow up on the door and put my hand to my mouth and steered with one hand, crying even harder.
I pulled up to the apartments and sighed, wiping my face. My shorts were still damp and and so was my shirt, but as far as my hair, it had dried completely. I walked slowly up to the door, got the key out of my pocket, and unlocked the door. Jonathon was sitting on the couch watching.. a chick flick? Jeremy must still be at his parents’ convention.
I walked in and plopped down on the large couch after removin
gmy wet Airmax’s. Jonathon made a second glance at me and I could feel him boring a hole in the side of my head.
"Dude.. you look rough.. why are you so wet?"
I leaned over and put my hands on my face, propping my head up by placing my elbows on my knees.
"What happened??"
".. Everything."
His voice suddenly heightened, "Like… what kind of everything?"
I closed my eyes.
"Ahhhh, man… you didn’t…" he grimaced/
I shook my head once, removing my hands from my face.
I finally met his eyes.
"What did y’all do?"
My voice lowered, "I… kissed her."
He looked at me dumbfounded.
"Oh geez…"
I nodded, grimacing closed-mouthed. We were quiet for minutes.
"And the reason you’re damp is..?"
I met his eyes, then looked off, smiling a bit.
"We danced in the rain.."
He rose his eyebrows at me, "You danced.. in the rain…?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Keenum Stadium."
He shook his head, "So this is where you kissed her at?"
I nodded.
He stared at me.
"What did she say..?"
I sho
ookmy head and scrunched my eyebrows.
"She told me… she loved me."
His eyes widened.
"You’re kidding.."
I shook my head.
…"What are you gonna’ do?"
I shook my head and replied breathlessly, "I have no idea."
We were quiet for many minutes.
"Are you gonna’ tell him?"
I thought for a moment.. "Yeah.. but not right now."
He looked and me and slowly nodded.
"Listen, you can’t tell him anything of this.. alright?"
"Oh, don’t worry man.. I won’t."
I nodded, "Thanks, man."
"Soo.. is she.. coming around anymore, or…?"
"I don’t think so."
"It ended that bad?"
"It didn’t end good.."
He shook his head.
"I’m gonna miss her… she was the funnest girl I’d ever met."
I sighed and leaned back on the couch.
"I know."
I looked at the TV.
"Dude, what the hell are you watching?"
"…The Notebook."
I looked at him.
"What? It’s freaking good!"
I looked at him weirdly and chuckled softly.
I looked at the screen and noticed the blonde-headed character from Remember the Tita
s.
"I want all of you.. forever.. you and me!!"
I stared at the screen at the actress who played on Sherlock Holmes.. Rachel? Rachel Mcadams?
This scene only made me hurt worse. Love. Love sucked.
We were suddenly interrupted by my phone buzzing on the end table.
We looked at each other then I slowly got up and grabbed it. The name I saw wasn’t the one I wanted to see.
Morgan.
I sighed then answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, David!"
"Hey, Morgan.."
"What are you doing?"
"Watching TV…"
"Oh.. well, I was wondering.. if you wanted to come over tonight," she said softly, "It would just be.. you and me.. alone."
I rolled my eyes and looked at the ceiling.
"Actually, I’m not feeling too well.."
"Oh.. well, I’m sorry.."
"Yeah.."
"Okay, well I’ll talk to you later, then?"
"Okay. Bye, Morgan."
"Bye, David."
I ended the call and starting walking to my room. I looked at my phone and noticed I had 16 messages, half of them from girls wanting me to hang out with them tonight. Three
years ago, I would be floating on air.. which I probably was because I had had this problem with girls since nineth grade. Back then, I wouldn’t consider it a problem. But right now, all I wanted was one girl. Forget the rest.

"You going to bed?"
"Yeah, man."
"Alright."
But as I headed for the door, I heard the front door open and close.
"Hey, Jon!"
I froze and looked behind me. Jeremy had come in.
"Hey, Jeremo…"
Jonathon quickly glanced at me.
"David!" he grinned.
He looked at the TV.
"Jonathon, what the hell are you watching?"
"Ugh, it’s The Notebook!"
He stared at him weirdly.
"Okay, then."
He looked up at me.
"You going to bed, David??"
"Uh, yeah," I said softly, "Don’t feel too good."
"Ah, I’m sorry, man.."
"It’s okay."
As I walked out, I heard their conversation.
"So, where you going now, Jeremy?"
"Uh.. I think I’m going to head over to Jenna’s. Might do something tonight."
"Oh."
I shut the door behind me, immediately turning out the light. It was goi
ng to be a long night.

It’s a suspense story for my writing class. It’s not very far along yet.

My main character Ben is on a road trip with his older brother, his brother’s best friend, and his own best friend. While in a traffic jam, a mechanic named Dave gives them directions on how to get to where they need to go. Later in the story, Dave catches up with the group and kidnaps one of them.

Based on a few suggestions and comments, I have edited parts of the beginning of my short story.

Sorry, I know the story is a bit slow.

The van smells like rotten eggs with a hint of wet dog. I sat in the middle row, scrunching my nose in disgust as I continue looking out the soda-splattered window. The few trees and plants outside were not moving at all. It feels as if the whole world was standing still.
In the driver’s seat, I hear Mike mumbling curse words. He is impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, looking as though he going to explode in anger. We haven’t moved an inch in over forty-five minutes. The van was at the end of the line in the traffic jam so none of us know what is going on. People in front of us were jumping out of their cars and walking up to where the problem seemed to be. Some of them looked ticked off, waving their hands hysterically in the air, frustrated and wanting to get out of here. Others were looking around in dismay, wondering what could be causing this big of a hold up.
A muscular man with sweat dripping down his face and onto the collar of his faded blue shirt was heading toward our vehicle. It’s an extremely hot day, the sun beating down on him as he walks up to every car and delivers news. He knocks on the window, and Mike rolls it down.
"What’s going on?" Mike asks.
The balding man takes off his baseball hat, sighs, and rubs his crinkled forehead. "Road construction." His voice is very deep and had a rusty tone to it.
"We’re all the way back here because of road construction?" Mike snaps, throwing himself back into the seat.
The man nods. "Said we’ll be here at least another thirty minutes," he says in his heavy Texas accent. I guess he is a mechanic because of the grease covering his shirt and hands. There is a patch in the left-hand corner of the shirt that had the name "Dave" stitched into it.
"We’re never going to make it there before sunset!" Mike exclaims.
Dave leans farther in, resting his arms on Mike’s window. "Where ya’ll headed?"
Personally, I don’t think Mike should be talking to a complete stranger about where we are heading. I don’t want to be rude and tell Mike not to say, so I keep mouth shut. Afterall, I didn’t want to make a huge mechanic mad.
"Burkley," Mike says.
"Ah. Well if ya’ll turn ’round, you can take Highway 75 out to Northbound 277 and you will be able to get there," Dave tells my brother.
"Do I just keep driving on 277?" Mike inquires, obviously interested in getting out of the giant traffic jam.
"Yes, sir," Dave says. "After a couple ‘a miles, ya’ll should see a sign that says ‘Burkley – Five Miles West’."
Mike nods. "Thank you so much," he sounds truly thankful.
"Not a problem," says Dave.
Dave waves as he walks away. I turn around in my seat to see what he was driving. He had hopped into an old beat up red pick-up truck that looked as if it had been in a tornado.
Since we are at the very end of the line of cars, Mike begins to turn around without a problem. Within seconds, we are on the road again. I sigh of relief and smile.
I look to my left to see Shawn sleeping. His head is hanging down, a little bit of drool dripping down his chin. His head keeps bopping up and down. In his hand, he holds his CD player with a loose grip.
Keith is sleeping up in the passenger seat. His bare feet on the dash board, and his face pressed against the window. That sleeping position had to be uncomfortable.
Mike is finally calm. He is nothing like he normally is. All day, he had been stressing about what to pack and how to pack it. Normally care-free and chaotic, became orderly and structured. All today, he has been acting more like me than himself.
"Ben," Mike says. "Get me a soda."
Sighing, I nod. The van is so crammed with all of our stuff that the only place to put the mini-cooler was in the middle of Shawn’s legs. I reach over, trying not to wake him up, which I fail at. Shawn’s eyes pop open. He lets out a loud yawn and stretches.
"Sorry," I tell him.
He shrugs. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere on 277," I say. "Some guy came up and gave us directions to get out of there while we were stuck in traffic." I lean back in my seat, waiting for Shawn to say something.
"Oh." I could tell he didn’t really care.
"Ben! Soda!" Mike yells at me as I realize I still have the soda in my hand, letting the water drip all over my jeans.
"Sorry," I mumble as he extends his arm and grabs the can out of my hand.

Would you continue reading it or is it just too boring? Any other comments?

Thanks! Much appreciated!
Sorry. It’s supposed to be:

"I sit in the middle row, scrunching my nose is disgust as I continue looking out the soda-splattered window."

Another mistake:

"The van is at the end of the line in the traffic jam so none of us know what is going on."

Sorry about that. If you see anymore present/past tense problems, please point them out.

Thanks
Wow. I am so sorry about all of the tense mistakes. It’s supposed to be in present tense. I read over and over again to get the paste tense out and I think I’ve got them all.

Thanks for tolerating that

It’s a suspense story for my writing class. It’s not very far along yet.

My main character Ben is on a road trip with his older brother, his brother’s best friend, and his own best friend. While in a traffic jam, a mechanic named Dave gives them directions on how to get to where they need to go. Later in the story, Dave catches up with the group and kidnaps one of them.

Based on a few suggestions and comments, I have edited parts of the beginning of my short story.

Sorry, I know the story is a bit slow.

The van smells like rotten eggs with a hint of wet dog. I sat in the middle row, scrunching my nose in disgust as I continue looking out the soda-splattered window. The few trees and plants outside were not moving at all. It feels as if the whole world was standing still.
In the driver’s seat, I hear Mike mumbling curse words. He is impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, looking as though he going to explode in anger. We haven’t moved an inch in over forty-five minutes. The van was at the end of the line in the traffic jam so none of us know what is going on. People in front of us were jumping out of their cars and walking up to where the problem seemed to be. Some of them looked ticked off, waving their hands hysterically in the air, frustrated and wanting to get out of here. Others were looking around in dismay, wondering what could be causing this big of a hold up.
A muscular man with sweat dripping down his face and onto the collar of his faded blue shirt was heading toward our vehicle. It’s an extremely hot day, the sun beating down on him as he walks up to every car and delivers news. He knocks on the window, and Mike rolls it down.
"What’s going on?" Mike asks.
The balding man takes off his baseball hat, sighs, and rubs his crinkled forehead. "Road construction." His voice is very deep and had a rusty tone to it.
"We’re all the way back here because of road construction?" Mike snaps, throwing himself back into the seat.
The man nods. "Said we’ll be here at least another thirty minutes," he says in his heavy Texas accent. I guess he is a mechanic because of the grease covering his shirt and hands. There is a patch in the left-hand corner of the shirt that had the name "Dave" stitched into it.
"We’re never going to make it there before sunset!" Mike exclaims.
Dave leans farther in, resting his arms on Mike’s window. "Where ya’ll headed?"
Personally, I don’t think Mike should be talking to a complete stranger about where we are heading. I don’t want to be rude and tell Mike not to say, so I keep mouth shut. Afterall, I didn’t want to make a huge mechanic mad.
"Burkley," Mike says.
"Ah. Well if ya’ll turn ’round, you can take Highway 75 out to Northbound 277 and you will be able to get there," Dave tells my brother.
"Do I just keep driving on 277?" Mike inquires, obviously interested in getting out of the giant traffic jam.
"Yes, sir," Dave says. "After a couple ‘a miles, ya’ll should see a sign that says ‘Burkley – Five Miles West’."
Mike nods. "Thank you so much," he sounds truly thankful.
"Not a problem," says Dave.
Dave waves as he walks away. I turn around in my seat to see what he was driving. He had hopped into an old beat up red pick-up truck that looked as if it had been in a tornado.
Since we are at the very end of the line of cars, Mike begins to turn around without a problem. Within seconds, we are on the road again. I sigh of relief and smile.
I look to my left to see Shawn sleeping. His head is hanging down, a little bit of drool dripping down his chin. His head keeps bopping up and down. In his hand, he holds his CD player with a loose grip.
Keith is sleeping up in the passenger seat. His bare feet on the dash board, and his face pressed against the window. That sleeping position had to be uncomfortable.
Mike is finally calm. He is nothing like he normally is. All day, he had been stressing about what to pack and how to pack it. Normally care-free and chaotic, became orderly and structured. All today, he has been acting more like me than himself.
"Ben," Mike says. "Get me a soda."
Sighing, I nod. The van is so crammed with all of our stuff that the only place to put the mini-cooler was in the middle of Shawn’s legs. I reach over, trying not to wake him up, which I fail at. Shawn’s eyes pop open. He lets out a loud yawn and stretches.
"Sorry," I tell him.
He shrugs. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere on 277," I say. "Some guy came up and gave us directions to get out of there while we were stuck in traffic." I lean back in my seat, waiting for Shawn to say something.
"Oh." I could tell he didn’t really care.
"Ben! Soda!" Mike yells at me as I realize I still have the soda in my hand, letting the water drip all over my jeans.
"Sorry," I mumble as he extends his arm and grabs the can out of my hand.

Would you continue reading it or is it just too boring? What did you like about it? What didn’t you like abo
Sorry, it got cut off.

What didn’t you like about it?

Thanks! Much appreciated!