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spent the afternoon: cross-legged on her bed with a pillow behind her back and four hundred pages of uninterrupted Ursula K. Le Guin ahead of her. That had been the plan. That had been a good plan. But her mother had appeared in the doorway an hour ago with a look that required no translation, and the book was currently face-down on her nightstand waiting for her return, and Lizzie was standing on the pool deck in the middle of something that seemed to be expanding outward in every direction at once.\par +\par +It was loud. It was remarkably, impressively loud for a backyard.\par +\par +Emma's party had hit some kind of critical threshold in the last twenty minutes, the way a fire goes from tentative to committed, and now the whole space had a pulse to it. Music came from Jim's sailboat out on the dock\u8212?she could see the three men on the deck, her father and Bobby's father and Jim, silhouettes tilting bottles in the direction of the sun, which was going orange over the canal and throwing long shadows across the pool. The water in the pool was bright and churned. Six or seven boys had claimed it entirely, splashing with the territorial confidence of boys who had decided a pool was theirs. The girls were mostly on the patio side, gathered around Emma in overlapping clusters, talking in the animated, overlapping way of people who had been looking forward to this specific gathering for two weeks.\par +\par +Lizzie stood slightly to one side of all of it.\par +\par +She had a can of soda she wasn't drinking and a towel draped over her shoulder she wasn't using and she was doing the thing she sometimes did at parties, which was watch, because watching was more interesting than participating and required considerably less energy. Emma didn't understand this about her and probably never would, but Emma was currently at the center of eight separate conversations and was not thinking about Lizzie at all, which was fine. Lizzie watched her sister hold court near the pool steps\u8212?Emma in the green swimsuit she'd deliberated over for three days, sun-bright and completely at ease, laughing at something Mai Lin had just said\u8212?and thought, not unkindly, that Emma genuinely couldn't imagine anyone not wanting this exact thing.\par +\par +From the pool there was a concussive boom of water and then a wave sloshed over the coping onto the deck.\par +\par +"Marcus!" Three voices said it at once.\par +\par +Laughter followed, including, reluctantly, from Lizzie.\par +\par +Marcus surfaced with his arms out, grinning without remorse, and she could see cousin Devin shaking his head with the weary tolerance of a sixteen-year-old who had been dealing with Marcus since birth. Tyler, the middle one, was already retaliating by splashing in Marcus's direction, which caused a general escalation, which caused two of the older boys to drag themselves up onto the coping to avoid the crossfire.\par +\par +One of them was Bobby.\par +\par +Lizzie knew Bobby well enough\u8212?he'd been coming around on Saturdays for years, always polite, always deferential to her parents in the particular way of a boy who understood he was a guest. He pulled himself up to sitting on the pool edge and shook water from his hair, and he was talking to someone still in the pool, and then that person grabbed the edge and came up beside him.\par +\par +Lizzie looked at him.\par +\par +She didn't mean to look the way she looked. It wasn't a decision.\par +\par +He was maybe her age, maybe a year older\u8212?it was hard to tell. Blond. Blue-eyed in the fading early-evening light, the kind of blue that looked almost gray in shade and then resolved clearly when the sun hit. Compact and muscular and tan in the way of boys who spent real time outdoors, not just backyard hours. He was laughing at something Bobby had said, his head tilted back slightly, and there was something about his laugh that was\u8212?\par +\par +Lizzie redirected her eyes to the middle distance and took a long sip of soda she didn't taste.\par +\par +This was disorienting. She had read extensively about this experience\u8212?it appeared in literature with remarkable frequency\u8212?but she had not previously encountered the actual firsthand version, and now that she had, she found herself unprepared for how thoroughly it disrupted normal cognition. She was a person who prided herself on normal cognition.\par +\par +She looked again.\par +\par +He was still there. Obviously he was still there.\par +\par +She was trying to decide whether to go back inside\u8212?the book was there, the book was reliable, the book did not cause this problem\u8212?when something grabbed her arm.\par +\par +She startled badly enough to slosh soda on her wrist.\par +\par +"Come on," Hannah said.\par +\par +Hannah was Emma's friend, not hers, a pretty and slightly curvy girl in an extraordinary one-piece with a pattern of dark jewels at the neckline that had probably cost more than everything in Lizzie's closet. She had the manner of someone who was constitutionally incapable of allowing a social situation to go unimproved, and she had Lizzie by the elbow with the grip of someone who had made a decision.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?"\par +\par +"You'll thank me."\par +\par +"I really don't think\u8212?"\par +\par +But they were already moving. Hannah navigated the pool deck with the breezy confidence of a girl who'd never once been ungraceful, steering around a cluster of boys and a folding chair someone had dragged to the edge, and Lizzie was doing an inventory of every conversational inadequacy she possessed and finding the list alarmingly long when Hannah called out, "Will!"\par +\par +The blond boy looked up.\par +\par +He looked directly at Lizzie.\par +\par +She stopped breathing for a moment, which was a physiological response she now understood was not metaphorical.\par +\par +"This is Lizzie," Hannah said. "Emma's sister. She loves Lord of the Rings."\par +\par +There was a half-beat of silence in which Lizzie became acutely aware that Hannah had already let go of her arm and taken a step back and was in the process of a departure so smooth it was nearly invisible.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?" Lizzie said, but Hannah was already gone, absorbed by a group of girls near the food tables with the seamlessness of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and had zero intention of explaining it.\par +\par +Lizzie stood there. Bobby had drifted off somewhere. It was just her and Will Fontaine on the edge of the pool, the party going loud and bright and chaotic around them, Marcus launching another cannonball into the far end.\par +\par +"Will Fontaine," he said, and held out his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. "Lizzie Hayes."\par +\par +He had an easy, unguarded quality, like someone who hadn't yet learned to be self-conscious. "You actually read it?" he said. "Or Hannah's just doing the thing where she says people have things in common to make them talk?"\par +\par +"Hannah does that?"\par +\par +"Constantly." He said it without malice. "So?"\par +\par +"I've read it three times," Lizzie said. "And the Silmarillion twice, which I'm aware most people don't finish."\par +\par +Something in his expression shifted. Reorganized. "Okay," he said. "Okay, you actually read it."\par +\par +"Do you?"\par +\par +"I've read the trilogy four times and I have opinions about Tom Bombadil that most people find excessive."\par +\par +And there it was\u8212?that thing that happened occasionally, rare enough to be notable, where the unpromising situation inverted itself completely. Lizzie felt the tightness in her chest release a fraction.\par +\par +"Tom Bombadil," she said, "is the most interesting problem in the whole book and nobody talks about it seriously."\par +\par +He turned more fully toward her. "Nobody," he agreed, "because everyone gets stuck on whether he's a god or a nature spirit and misses the actual interesting part, which is that the Ring has absolutely no effect on him\u8212?"\par +\par +"\u8212?which means either he's outside the power structure that makes the Ring meaningful, or he simply doesn't desire anything the Ring could amplify\u8212?"\par +\par +"Exactly." He was animated now, water still running down his shoulder, the pool noise and the music from the sailboat and the accumulated roar of thirty-six teenagers reduced somehow to a middle distance. "Because Sauron's whole thesis is that everything wants. That every will can be captured. And Bombadil disproves that just by existing. He rescues the hobbits from Old Man Willow without ceremony, without drama. He just\u8212?does it. Like it's obvious."\par +\par +"Like it costs him nothing," Lizzie said, "because he has nothing to lose."\par +\par +"Or everything he has can't be taken." He looked at her with a directness that would have been uncomfortable if it hadn't been so clearly intellectual. "Does that mean he's the most powerful being in the story, or the least powerful? Like, the Ring is the whole axis of the story. If you're immune to it, are you even in the same story?"\par +\par +Lizzie had thought about this exact question before. She had written two pages about it in her journal and not arrived anywhere conclusive. She sat down on the pool coping, because this was going to take a minute, and he sat beside her, and somewhere behind them Marcus detonated another wall of water and a girl shrieked in protest and everyone laughed, and the sun went lower, and the music from the dock drifted over them, and the party went on being what it was. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE/content.rtf index 183804f..e78b410 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,9 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} -\f0\fs24 Youngest daughter. To be a high school freshman. Bookish girl, very pretty, shy. She has three close friends, all of which are bookworms like herself.\par -\par -Continuity update from Scene 4:\par -Youngest daughter. To be a high school freshman. Bookish girl, very pretty, shy. She has three close friends, all of which are bookworms like herself. Reads at a college level per her English teacher Mrs. Patterson. Loves Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series (Dragonflight, Dragonquest, The White Dragon) and has re-read them multiple times. Owns the complete Tolkien corpus with Alan Lee illustrations, kept on her nightstand and treated with reverence. Aspires to write fantasy fiction in the tradition of Tolkien and McCaffrey. Moves through tasks with focused, urgent efficiency when a book is waiting. Was denied Neil Gaiman's Stardust by her mother as age-inappropriate for now. Tends to process frustration quietly and internally rather than acting out \u8212? explicitly contrasted with Emma's more reactive temperament.\par +{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} +{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} +{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Youngest daughter. To be a high school freshman. Bookish girl, very pretty, shy. She has three close friends, all of which are bookworms like herself.\ +Reads at a college level per her English teacher Mrs. Patterson. Aspires to write fantasy fiction in the tradition of Tolkien and McCaffrey. Moves through tasks with focused, urgent efficiency when a book is waiting. Tends to process frustration quietly and internally rather than acting out \'97 explicitly contrasted with Emma's more reactive temperament.\ } \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/0EB3B7B3-60E5-4742-8312-51A4B2B6DBBE/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/0EB3B7B3-60E5-4742-8312-51A4B2B6DBBE/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7628760 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/0EB3B7B3-60E5-4742-8312-51A4B2B6DBBE/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,81 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The coffee was good. Elikapeka stood at the kitchen counter with both hands wrapped around the mug and allowed herself thirty seconds of stillness before the evening swallowed her whole.\par +\par +Through the sliding glass door she could see Susan Carpenter moving between the rented folding tables with the brisk competence of a woman who had organized school fundraisers and church potlucks and knew exactly how a tablecloth should be anchored against a canal breeze. The caterers\u8212?two young men and a girl in black polo shirts\u8212?were arranging chafing dishes with the careful efficiency of people being paid by the hour. The patio looked better than Elikapeka had expected. The string lights she and Emma had hung last night caught the late-afternoon sun and would come into their own once the sky darkened.\par +\par +Thirty-six children.\par +\par +She drank her coffee.\par +\par +From behind the house came the low, pleasant thump of bass finding its footing, then a moment of silence, then the opening of something Emma had described as essential. Elikapeka recognized it dimly. The sound system on Jim's sailboat apparently worked. She heard Andy's laugh carry across the water\u8212?that easy, unselfconscious laugh of a man holding a beer and doing something pleasant with his hands\u8212?and then Alex Carpenter's voice saying something she couldn't make out, and then both of them laughing, and then Jim's voice joining in. Three men on a sailboat in a canal in Fort Lauderdale in June, which was exactly what three such men would choose to be doing on a Friday evening if given any latitude at all.\par +\par +She had given them the latitude. She was not sorry about it. The sound system worked and they were out of her kitchen.\par +\par +The doorbell rang.\par +\par +Ella appeared from the direction of the stairs with a boy behind her, and Elikapeka registered the boy before she registered anything else, which was how she always registered Bobby Carpenter\u8212?as a presence slightly larger than expected, taller this year than last in a way that still surprised her faintly each time. He'd always been a polite boy. He was a polite taller boy now. He had the particular expression of someone who understood he'd been drafted and was trying to look willing.\par +\par +Ella was already moving toward the front door with the focused economy of someone who had been given a task and intended to discharge it efficiently and return to her own concerns. She was wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, practical and unadorned, and Elikapeka thought for the hundredth time that Ella would find this entire evening mildly tolerable at best and was doing it because she'd been asked.\par +\par +She heard the door open.\par +\par +She heard Michelle's voice.\par +\par +Elikapeka set her coffee mug on the counter and moved to the kitchen doorway where she could see the entry hall. Michelle Hayes was a compact, energetic woman married to the most amiable of the three Hayes brothers, and she had brought all three boy cousins in one efficient delivery, like a woman who had learned to consolidate her errands. The cousins came through the door in a loose cluster\u8212?Devin first, who was sixteen and had the unhurried manner of a boy who had been told he was good-looking often enough to believe it; Tyler behind him, who was fifteen and had apparently had some kind of recent moment of recognition with Lizzie that still mildly baffled Elikapeka; and Marcus last, who was fourteen, who was wearing his flip flops on the wrong feet, and who was already looking past everyone toward the back of the house with an expression that could only be described as strategic.\par +\par +Emma appeared from the direction of the stairs with Mai Lin one step behind her, the two of them moving in the synchronized way of girls who had been best friends since the second grade and had developed a shared locomotion. Both wore coveralls over their swimsuits. Emma's coverall, Elikapeka noted, was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, which was cover the swimsuit she and Andy had disagreed about. She had made her peace with it. More or less.\par +\par +Emma greeted her cousins with the warmth of a hostess who had already filed several private grievances about their attendance and had decided, professionally, to set those aside for the duration of the evening. She kissed Michelle's cheek and pointed all three boys toward the back of the house with a gesture that was somehow both gracious and directional, the way a good ma\u238?tre d' points guests toward a table.\par +\par +They did not require pointing twice.\par +\par +Tee shirts hit the kitchen floor. Flip flops went in two different directions. Devin cleared the sliding glass door first. Tyler was a half-step behind him. Marcus, she noticed, had already located something\u8212?a Nerf football, presumably from the basket of pool toys she kept in the utility closet\u8212?and was holding it above his head like a trophy as he crossed the patio and hit the water with a sound that reached her from twenty feet away.\par +\par +The men on the sailboat cheered.\par +\par +Elikapeka picked up Marcus's tee shirt from the kitchen floor and folded it.\par +\par +"Mrs. Hayes, should I\u8212?" Bobby started, gesturing vaguely toward the backyard in a way that suggested he would go wherever he was pointed.\par +\par +"Go on," Elikapeka said. "You're doing Ella a kindness."\par +\par +Ella's expression suggested she disputed the framing but would not contest it in front of her mother. She and Bobby went out through the sliding door. Elikapeka could hear Susan Carpenter greeting them warmly, because Susan was the kind of woman who greeted everyone warmly as a matter of genuine temperament rather than social management.\par +\par +The music from the sailboat shifted to something louder and the bass settled into the boards of the dock and came up through the kitchen floor faintly, which was not something she'd anticipated but was, she decided, acceptable.\par +\par +Michelle had come through to the kitchen. She was already opening the refrigerator with the easy familiarity of a woman who'd stood in this kitchen dozens of times, which she had.\par +\par +"The tables look beautiful," Michelle said, pulling out the pitcher of iced tea Elikapeka had made that morning.\par +\par +"Susan did most of the arranging."\par +\par +"The lights were Emma's idea, I assume."\par +\par +"Emma's idea and Emma's installation. She had Lizzie on the ladder."\par +\par +Michelle laughed. "How is Lizzie taking all this?"\par +\par +"She has a book," Elikapeka said.\par +\par +"Smart girl."\par +\par +The doorbell rang again. And then again before she'd taken three steps. And then, before she reached the hallway, a third time, because whoever was on the other side was either impatient or had missed the first attempt and was making up for it. She opened the door to four girls at once, all of them in coveralls, all of them carrying towels in the pastel colors of girls who coordinated these things in advance. They were talking before the door was fully open and did not stop talking as they came through it, and Elikapeka caught their names\u8212?she'd reviewed the list twice\u8212?and matched three of four on the first pass.\par +\par +Then more cars. Then more voices at the door. Then the particular compound noise of a party finding its footing, which was different from the noise of one or two or five people gathered in a place. It had a texture to it, something almost physical, and it rose from the backyard and came in through the sliding door and mixed with the music from the sailboat and the caterers' efficient movements and Michelle's steady presence at the counter and the smell of the chafing dish lids just beginning to warm.\par +\par +From the pool she heard the distinct and unmistakable sound of a cannonball.\par +\par +Then laughter. Then what sounded like protest. Then more laughter.\par +\par +Marcus.\par +\par +She knew without looking. She would have bet money.\par +\par +She was standing at the kitchen counter again\u8212?she kept returning to it, some gravitational pull\u8212?and she picked up her coffee mug and found it had gone cold. She drank it anyway and looked out through the sliding door at the thirty-odd young people filling her backyard by degrees, at the sailboat lit now by the dropping sun with three men on its deck who had earned the right to cold beers, at Susan moving between tables with the assurance of a woman who could set a tablecloth in a canal breeze, at Emma holding court near the pool steps with the easy authority of someone who had always expected this exact outcome.\par +\par +Another cannonball.\par +\par +More laughter.\par +\par +Elikapeka smiled into her cold coffee, because it was chaos, and it was hers, and that was not the worst thing in the world to be able to say. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1A1A848C-1FA0-4D7D-944C-CAC94B61BB14/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1A1A848C-1FA0-4D7D-944C-CAC94B61BB14/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac75ae2 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1A1A848C-1FA0-4D7D-944C-CAC94B61BB14/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,211 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The moment the car backed out of the driveway, Emma was moving.\par +\par +She didn't run\u8212?running was undignified\u8212?but she walked with a purpose that was very close to it, straight to her parents' bedroom, where the phone sat on her mother's nightstand like a reward for exactly this kind of patience. She settled herself against the headboard, pulled her mother's decorative pillow behind her back, and positioned the notepad on her knees with the pen uncapped. The morning light came through the curtains in long warm stripes. Outside, she could hear the sailboat knocking gently against the dock.\par +\par +She wrote BOYS at the top of the page and underlined it twice.\par +\par +Susanna first. Susanna Greer was the head cheerleader and functionally omniscient about the male population of their school. If Susanna didn't like a boy, the boy ceased to exist as a viable option. This was simply how it worked.\par +\par +The phone rang twice.\par +\par +"Hello?"\par +\par +"It's me. I need the definitive list."\par +\par +"Of what?"\par +\par +"Boys, Susanna."\par +\par +A pause. "For the party?"\par +\par +"No, for my knitting circle. Yes, for the party. My mom said boys are allowed, which I did not see coming, so now I need to move fast before she changes her mind or adds some condition I haven't thought of yet."\par +\par +"Okay, okay." She could hear Susanna settling in on her end, which meant she was sitting down somewhere comfortable with the phone cord stretched to its limit, the way she always did when she was about to deliver information she considered important. "Okay. Jake Ferreira, obviously."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Obviously."\par +\par +"Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"He chews with his mouth open."\par +\par +"At lunch. In a pool he'll be fine."\par +\par +Emma wrote Chris DeLuca and put a small question mark after it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Matt Brouwer."\par +\par +"He asked Danielle out and then didn't show up."\par +\par +"That was like six months ago."\par +\par +"I have a long memory. Next."\par +\par +"Emma."\par +\par +"Next, Susanna."\par +\par +Susanna sighed. "Fine. Brandon Hicks."\par +\par +"Brandon is good." She wrote his name. "Who else."\par +\par +They went on like this for twenty minutes, Emma with her pen moving over the notepad, crossing out and adding and putting small notations next to certain names\u8212?things like *asks too many questions* or *fine if Danielle isn't there* or simply *no*. By the time she hung up, she had seven names that had survived the cross-examination. Seven boys. From one phone call. She looked at the list with genuine satisfaction. This was going to be the best birthday party she'd ever had, provided her mother didn't ruin it, which remained a live concern.\par +\par +She dialed Mai Lin Wen without consulting the notepad. She knew that number by heart.\par +\par +Mai Lin picked up on the first ring, which meant she'd been waiting by the phone, which was very Mai Lin.\par +\par +"Tell me everything," Mai Lin said, before Emma could speak.\par +\par +"Mom said yes to the party."\par +\par +"She said yes to boys?"\par +\par +"She said yes to boys."\par +\par +The shriek on the other end of the phone was satisfying. Emma held the receiver a few inches from her ear and waited it out.\par +\par +"Okay," Emma said, when it was over. "I need your input on the list. I already talked to Susanna."\par +\par +"What did Susanna say about Tyler Kim?"\par +\par +"She didn't bring up Tyler Kim."\par +\par +"That's a no from me on Tyler Kim, then. He was staring at me all through third period last week and not in a good way. In a weird way."\par +\par +"Agreed." Emma hadn't written Tyler Kim down anyway. "I have seven so far. I'm going to read them to you."\par +\par +"Ready."\par +\par +Emma read the names.\par +\par +There was a silence after each one that communicated Mai Lin's processing. Then: "Cross off Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"I had a question mark next to him anyway."\par +\par +"Cross him off. He told Hannah he thought the two of us were basically the same person."\par +\par +Emma stopped. "I'm sorry\u8212?what?"\par +\par +"He literally said we were interchangeable."\par +\par +"That is\u8212?" Emma searched for the appropriate word. "That is genuinely insulting to both of us."\par +\par +"Right?"\par +\par +"We don't even look alike."\par +\par +"I know that."\par +\par +"We're not even the same height."\par +\par +"Emma, I know."\par +\par +"I'm just saying that is an extraordinarily stupid thing to say." She crossed off Chris DeLuca with enough pressure to leave an impression on the next page. "He's gone. Who do you want to add?"\par +\par +"Nate Oliveira," Mai Lin said. "He's very cute, and he was nice to me at the track meet."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Anyone else?"\par +\par +"That's it from me. I want it to be an exclusive list. Not every boy in the junior class."\par +\par +"Obviously not every boy in the junior class. I'm not running a charity event."\par +\par +"Some people invite everyone."\par +\par +"I'm not some people."\par +\par +"That's why I like you," Mai Lin said, and Emma could hear her smiling. "Am I sleeping over after?"\par +\par +"Of course you're sleeping over after."\par +\par +"Good. I'll need to decompress."\par +\par +Emma laughed, which was real, because Mai Lin always made her laugh. She said goodbye and moved down her mental list of people to call.\par +\par +Hannah Prescott was next, and this was the call Emma approached the way one approaches a necessary dental appointment\u8212?something to get through, efficiently, and not dwell on. Hannah came from money and was popular with the boys in a way that Emma found slightly suspicious, which was to say that Hannah was obviously aware of this popularity and deployed it deliberately. Emma didn't dislike her, exactly. She simply had no illusions about her or her motives, some of which she knew her mother would not approve.\par +\par +"Hannah."\par +\par +"Emma, hi! I heard about the party, this is going to be so fun\u8212?"\par +\par +"Who should I invite? Boys."\par +\par +A brief pause as Hannah recalibrated from enthusiasm to usefulness. "Okay. Marcus Webb."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Definitely Corey\u8212?"\par +\par +"Last name."\par +\par +"Corey Janssen."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Good. Anyone else you're thinking about?"\par +\par +"What about Ryan?"\par +\par +"Which Ryan?"\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team."\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team has a girlfriend."\par +\par +"They broke up."\par +\par +Emma paused. "When?"\par +\par +"Like two weeks ago."\par +\par +Emma wrote *Ryan\u8212?swim team\u8212?confirm* with a small circle around it. "I'll look into it. Thanks, Hannah."\par +\par +"Oh my gosh, of course, I'm so excited\u8212?"\par +\par +"I'll call you later." Emma hung up.\par +\par +She worked through the rest of her list of girls, methodically, a conversation here and a conversation there, the names accumulating on the notepad in her lap. Some boys she added. Some she declined before they were fully nominated. One she wrote down and then stared at for a long moment before drawing a slow, deliberate line through his name, for reasons she didn't articulate out loud because she was alone.\par +\par +Finally, she sat back against the headboard and counted.\par +\par +Fifteen.\par +\par +Fifteen boys, all thoroughly vetted, all approved by at least two people she trusted to have opinions worth consulting. It was a good list. It was an excellent list. She looked at it with the satisfaction of a general surveying a well-positioned army.\par +\par +And then she thought about Devin.\par +\par +And Tyler.\par +\par +And the others.\par +\par +Her mother's voice came back to her with pristine clarity: *Every last one of them.*\par +\par +Emma looked at her list.\par +\par +Fifteen boys.\par +\par +Twenty-five guests total. Which meant ten girls, herself included\u8212?and she'd already been composing that list in her head separately, so she knew exactly who those ten were. It was wrong. The number of boys and girls needed to balance. She needed her mother to agree to thirty attendees, to properly balance the sexes.\par +\par +She counted her cousins.\par +\par +There were three boy cousins who would plausibly be invited by her mother's standard of *every last one of them*. Devin, who was fine, she supposed, in the way that a piece of furniture is fine. Tyler, who Lizzie apparently thought she knew, which was hilarious and also somehow annoying. And Marcus, who was fourteen and had gone through a phase last summer of doing cannonballs directly next to whoever was floating quietly in the pool, which was not something Emma was prepared to tolerate at her own birthday party.\par +\par +Three cousins.\par +\par +Three boys who would have to come off this list.\par +\par +She looked at her fifteen names.\par +\par +She looked at them for a long moment.\par +\par +Then she said something under her breath that she would not have said in front of her mother, picked up the phone again, and started to think very carefully about which argument would work.\par +\par +Not the fairness argument. Her mother was impervious to fairness arguments.\par +\par +Not the numbers argument. Her mother would simply raise the cap, or suggest she invite fewer girls.\par +\par +No. She needed something her mother couldn't easily dismiss. Something that reframed the question. She didn't have it yet.\par +\par +She wrote *cousins don't count\u8212?separate category* on the corner of the notepad and starred it three times.\par +\par +She'd figure it out. She had time. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1B8B3DFD-9CDF-4442-8A72-69E87DD3A8C3/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1B8B3DFD-9CDF-4442-8A72-69E87DD3A8C3/content.rtf index 8a61d84..6dcd565 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1B8B3DFD-9CDF-4442-8A72-69E87DD3A8C3/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1B8B3DFD-9CDF-4442-8A72-69E87DD3A8C3/content.rtf @@ -1,4 +1,4 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2868 +{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 \cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} {\*\expandedcolortbl;;} @@ -7,4 +7,4 @@ \f0\fs26 \cf0 This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Emma Hayes.\ As soon as her mother and sister drove off, Emma was on the phone, sitting on the bed in her parents\'92 bedroom, as the phone was on the nightstand and she could sit comfortably against the headboard of the bed with a pillow. In her lap was a notepad, and she planned to quiz all of her friends about what boys she should invite to her birthday party. It wouldn\'92t do to invite a boy her friends didn\'92t like, that would not do at all.\ First up was her friend Susanna. She was a cheerleader and had an encyclopedia knowledge of all of the boys, good and bad. If she didn\'92t like a boy, the boy would not get on her list, even if Emma liked the guy. By the time they\'92d hung up the phone, she had seven boys on her list. She was shockingly, almost halfway done with one call. Next up, her best friend Mai Lin. She was Chinese, a major league cutie, and she and Mai Lin were constantly up for the yearbook \'93best looking\'94 in the class. Mai Lin was also extremely picky and the call ended with two boys scratched off and only one added. The third call was with Hannah, who Emma didn\'92t much like, but she had to be invited, as she came from a wealthy family and was popular with the boys. Two boys added. On and on the calls went, and finally, she had fifteen boys on the list, all vetted by her friends. And that\'92s when she realized she\'92d have to dump three of them for her boy cousins. She screamed in frustration, preparing herself to argue with her mother than her cousins didn\'92t count in the total.\ -Expand to a maximum of 1500 words. Emphasize snarky dialog with her friends.} \ No newline at end of file +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1C59F27E-CA35-457E-BD2F-573ED92BC86B/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1C59F27E-CA35-457E-BD2F-573ED92BC86B/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec25e50 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/1C59F27E-CA35-457E-BD2F-573ED92BC86B/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,211 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The moment the car backed out of the driveway, Emma was moving.\par +\par +She didn't run\u8212?running was undignified\u8212?but she walked with a purpose that was very close to it, up the stairs and straight to her parents' bedroom, where the phone sat on her mother's nightstand like a reward for exactly this kind of patience. She settled herself against the headboard, pulled her mother's decorative pillow behind her back, and positioned the notepad on her knees with the pen uncapped. The morning light came through the curtains in long warm stripes. Outside, she could hear the sailboat knocking gently against the dock.\par +\par +She wrote BOYS at the top of the page and underlined it twice.\par +\par +Susanna first. Susanna Greer was a cheerleader and functionally omniscient about the male population of their school. If Susanna didn't like a boy, the boy ceased to exist as a viable option. This was simply how it worked.\par +\par +The phone rang twice.\par +\par +"Hello?"\par +\par +"It's me. I need the definitive list."\par +\par +"Of what?"\par +\par +"Boys, Susanna."\par +\par +A pause. "For the party?"\par +\par +"No, for my knitting circle. Yes, for the party. My mom said boys are allowed, which I did not see coming, so now I need to move fast before she changes her mind or adds some condition I haven't thought of yet."\par +\par +"Okay, okay." She could hear Susanna settling in on her end, which meant she was sitting down somewhere comfortable with the phone cord stretched to its limit, the way she always did when she was about to deliver information she considered important. "Okay. Jake Ferreira, obviously."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Obviously."\par +\par +"Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"He chews with his mouth open."\par +\par +"At lunch. In a pool he'll be fine."\par +\par +Emma wrote Chris DeLuca and put a small question mark after it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Matt Brouwer."\par +\par +"He asked Danielle out and then didn't show up."\par +\par +"That was like six months ago."\par +\par +"I have a long memory. Next."\par +\par +"Emma."\par +\par +"Next, Susanna."\par +\par +Susanna sighed. "Fine. Brandon Hicks."\par +\par +"Brandon is good." She wrote his name. "Who else."\par +\par +They went on like this for twenty minutes, Emma with her pen moving over the notepad, crossing out and adding and putting small notations next to certain names\u8212?things like *asks too many questions* or *fine if Danielle isn't there* or simply *no*. By the time she hung up, she had seven names that had survived the cross-examination. Seven boys. From one phone call. She looked at the list with genuine satisfaction. This was going to be the best birthday party she'd ever had, provided her mother didn't ruin it, which remained a live concern.\par +\par +She dialed Mai Lin without consulting the notepad. She knew that number by heart.\par +\par +Mai Lin picked up on the first ring, which meant she'd been waiting by the phone, which was very Mai Lin.\par +\par +"Tell me everything," Mai Lin said, before Emma could speak.\par +\par +"Mom said yes to the party."\par +\par +"She said yes to boys?"\par +\par +"She said yes to boys."\par +\par +The shriek on the other end of the phone was satisfying. Emma held the receiver a few inches from her ear and waited it out.\par +\par +"Okay," Emma said, when it was over. "I need your input on the list. I already talked to Susanna."\par +\par +"What did Susanna say about Tyler Kim?"\par +\par +"She didn't bring up Tyler Kim."\par +\par +"That's a no from me on Tyler Kim, then. He was staring at me all through third period last week and not in a good way. In a weird way."\par +\par +"Agreed." Emma hadn't written Tyler Kim down anyway. "I have seven so far. I'm going to read them to you."\par +\par +"Ready."\par +\par +Emma read the names.\par +\par +There was a silence after each one that communicated Mai Lin's processing. Then: "Cross off Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"I had a question mark next to him anyway."\par +\par +"Cross him off. He told Hannah he thought the two of us were basically the same person."\par +\par +Emma stopped. "I'm sorry\u8212?what?"\par +\par +"He literally said we were interchangeable."\par +\par +"That is\u8212?" Emma searched for the appropriate word. "That is genuinely insulting to both of us."\par +\par +"Right?"\par +\par +"We don't even look alike."\par +\par +"I know that."\par +\par +"We're not even the same height."\par +\par +"Emma, I know."\par +\par +"I'm just saying that is an extraordinarily stupid thing to say." She crossed off Chris DeLuca with enough pressure to leave an impression on the next page. "He's gone. Who do you want to add?"\par +\par +"Nate Oliveira," Mai Lin said. "He's very cute, and he was nice to me at the track meet."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Anyone else?"\par +\par +"That's it from me. I want it to be an exclusive list. Not every boy in the junior class."\par +\par +"Obviously not every boy in the junior class. I'm not running a charity event."\par +\par +"Some people invite everyone."\par +\par +"I'm not some people."\par +\par +"That's why I like you," Mai Lin said, and Emma could hear her smiling. "Am I sleeping over after?"\par +\par +"Of course you're sleeping over after."\par +\par +"Good. I'll need to decompress."\par +\par +Emma laughed, which was real, because Mai Lin genuinely made her laugh. She said goodbye and moved down her mental list of people to call.\par +\par +Hannah Prescott was next, and this was the call Emma approached the way one approaches a necessary dental appointment\u8212?something to get through, efficiently, and not dwell on. Hannah came from money and was popular with the boys in a way that Emma found slightly suspicious, which was to say that Hannah was obviously aware of this popularity and deployed it deliberately. Emma didn't dislike her, exactly. She simply had no illusions about her.\par +\par +"Hannah."\par +\par +"Emma, hi! I heard about the party, this is going to be so fun\u8212?"\par +\par +"Who should I invite? Boys."\par +\par +A brief pause as Hannah recalibrated from enthusiasm to usefulness. "Okay. Marcus Webb."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Definitely Corey\u8212?"\par +\par +"Last name."\par +\par +"Corey Janssen."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Good. Anyone else you're thinking about?"\par +\par +"What about Ryan?"\par +\par +"Which Ryan?"\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team."\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team has a girlfriend."\par +\par +"They broke up."\par +\par +Emma paused. "When?"\par +\par +"Like two weeks ago."\par +\par +Emma wrote *Ryan\u8212?swim team\u8212?confirm* with a small circle around it. "I'll look into it. Thanks, Hannah."\par +\par +"Oh my gosh, of course, I'm so excited\u8212?"\par +\par +"I'll call you later." Emma hung up.\par +\par +She worked through the rest of her list of girls, methodically, a conversation here and a conversation there, the names accumulating on the notepad in her lap. Some boys she added. Some she declined before they were fully nominated. One she wrote down and then stared at for a long moment before drawing a slow, deliberate line through his name, for reasons she didn't articulate out loud because she was alone.\par +\par +Finally, she sat back against the headboard and counted.\par +\par +Fifteen.\par +\par +Fifteen boys, all thoroughly vetted, all approved by at least two people she trusted to have opinions worth consulting. It was a good list. It was an excellent list. She looked at it with the satisfaction of a general surveying a well-positioned army.\par +\par +And then she thought about Devin.\par +\par +And Tyler.\par +\par +And the others.\par +\par +Her mother's voice came back to her with pristine clarity: *Every last one of them.*\par +\par +Emma looked at her list.\par +\par +Fifteen boys.\par +\par +Twenty-five guests total. Which meant ten girls, herself included\u8212?and she'd already been composing that list in her head separately, so she knew exactly who those ten were. It was tight. It was exactly right. Twenty-five people was a party. Twenty-six was a crowd. Twenty-seven was chaos.\par +\par +She counted her cousins.\par +\par +There were three boy cousins who would plausibly be invited by her mother's standard of *every last one of them*. Devin, who was fine, she supposed, in the way that a piece of furniture is fine. Tyler, who Lizzie apparently thought she knew, which was hilarious and also somehow annoying. And Marcus, who was fourteen and had gone through a phase last summer of doing cannonballs directly next to whoever was floating quietly in the pool, which was not something Emma was prepared to tolerate at her own birthday party.\par +\par +Three cousins.\par +\par +Three boys who would have to come off this list.\par +\par +She looked at her fifteen names.\par +\par +She looked at them for a long moment.\par +\par +Then she said something under her breath that she would not have said in front of her mother, picked up the phone again, and started to think very carefully about which argument would work.\par +\par +Not the fairness argument. Her mother was impervious to fairness arguments.\par +\par +Not the numbers argument. Her mother would simply raise the cap, or suggest she invite fewer girls.\par +\par +No. She needed something her mother couldn't easily dismiss. Something that reframed the question. She didn't have it yet.\par +\par +She wrote *cousins don't count\u8212?separate category* on the corner of the notepad and starred it three times.\par +\par +She'd figure it out. She had time. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/2FFD5F3C-570C-4E7E-8BC0-018C4B627DD8/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/2FFD5F3C-570C-4E7E-8BC0-018C4B627DD8/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0b410e --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/2FFD5F3C-570C-4E7E-8BC0-018C4B627DD8/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,86 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Scene: Scene 6\par +Model: anthropic/claude-sonnet-4.6\par +Character UUIDs: F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C,332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241\par +Accepted for editing: 2026-08-23T18:26:11-05:00\par +\par +### STYLE\par +The style of the novel is in the style but not substance of Ken Follett. Each scene is in third person from the perspective of one of the characters.\par +\par +### LEXICON\par +(none)\par +\par +### STORY\par +Scene 3\par +Elikapeka Hayes, alone with daughters Emma and Lizzie after Andy and Ella leave, grants Emma a Friday-evening backyard pool party capped at twenty-five guests and permits boys, but refuses to exclude any family cousins and deflects Emma's pointed accusation of racial bias in the guest-list vetting process\u8212?asserting she will review all names and decide who is welcome\u8212?leaving Emma's challenge to her mother's social prejudices unresolved and filed away for a later attempt.\par +\par +### CHARACTERS\par +Emma Hayes\par +Middle daughter. To be a high school junior. Social butterfly with dozens of friends. She\u8217?s the unacknowledged highest status girl in her class. In her mother\u8217?s words, the sun around which the other girls orbit.\par +\par +Mai Lin Wen\par +Emma\u8217?s best friend and always up for lounging in the pool at Emma\u8217?s house. Born in America of Chinese immigrants. Beautiful and outgoing, wears the same dress size as Emma. Serves the secondary role as Emma\u8217?s enforcer in the gang of fashionable girls who orbit around Emma.\par +\par +### RECALL\par +(none)\par +\par +### PREVIOUS\par +"And yes." Emma pressed forward, undeterred. "Is it wrong to want my own birthday party to be fun? I see these cousins at every single family thing. At Christmas, at Easter, at Grandma's \u8212? can I have one thing that's just\u8212?"\par +\par +"No," Elikapeka said.\par +\par +Emma blinked.\par +\par +"They'll all be invited. Every last one of them. Devin, Tyler, all of them. And you will be gracious about it or there won't be a party." Elikapeka said it the way she said most things she was certain about \u8212? without heat, without performance, simply as the shape of reality. "Don't push me on this, Emma. I have given you a lot of ground this morning."\par +\par +"You've given me nothing except\u8212?"\par +\par +"An evening pool party with boys for your sixteenth birthday," Elikapeka said. "In this backyard. When I was your age, do you know what I got for my sixteenth birthday?"\par +\par +"A party on the beach, I know, with the whole\u8212?"\par +\par +"With the whole family. All of them. Babies to grandparents. And I was grateful."\par +\par +"I'm grateful," Emma said, in a tone that communicated something more ambivalent.\par +\par +"You have a funny way of showing it."\par +\par +Lizzie chose this moment to set her paperback down and observe, with the mild, studied disinterest of someone who had clearly been following every word: "Stinky boys."\par +\par +Emma turned the full weight of her attention on her younger sister. The look was slow, deliberate, the kind that communicated a detailed opinion about the immaturity of the person receiving it.\par +\par +"Nobody asked you," Emma said.\par +\par +"I'm just saying."\par +\par +"You literally don't even know any boys."\par +\par +"I know Tyler," Lizzie said pleasantly, and opened her book again.\par +\par +Elikapeka pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. She rose and carried her cup to the sink, looking out through the window over the water. The morning was already warm and would be hot by noon, and Jim Kowalski's sailboat rocked in its gentle patient way against the dock, going nowhere.\par +\par +"Emma," she said, without turning around. "Get me your list this week. Names, first and last. I'll let you know."\par +\par +She heard her daughter exhale \u8212? not quite a sigh, not quite an acceptance, something suspended between the two.\par +\par +"Fine," Emma said.\par +\par +"Thank you." Elikapeka turned back from the window and smiled at her, the full warm smile that she knew her daughter found difficult to stay annoyed at. "It's going to be a beautiful party."\par +\par +Emma, against what appeared to be her better judgment, almost smiled back.\par +\par +### NOTES\par +Hayes house \u8212? The Hayes family lives in a two story house built in the 1960s on a deep water canal (meaning, the canal can be used for boats going out to the Atlantic ocean). The house has a boat dock, rented out to a friend who has a fifty foot sailboat. The house has a small pool in the backyard which is often used by the family for gatherings.\par +Emma at home while Lizzie and their mother are out. Saturday morning in late May, 2000.\par +\par +### BRIEF\par +This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Emma Hayes.\par +As soon as her mother and sister drove off, Emma was on the phone, sitting on the bed in her parents\u8217? bedroom, as the phone was on the nightstand and she could sit comfortably against the headboard of the bed with a pillow. In her lap was a notepad, and she planned to quiz all of her friends about what boys she should invite to her birthday party. It wouldn\u8217?t do to invite a boy her friends didn\u8217?t like, that would not do at all.\par +First up was her friend Susanna. She was a cheerleader and had an encyclopedia knowledge of all of the boys, good and bad. If she didn\u8217?t like a boy, the boy would not get on her list, even if Emma liked the guy. By the time they\u8217?d hung up the phone, she had seven boys on her list. She was shockingly, almost halfway done with one call. Next up, her best friend Mai Lin. She was Chinese, a major league cutie, and she and Mai Lin were constantly up for the yearbook \u8220?best looking\u8221? in the class. Mai Lin was also extremely picky and the call ended with two boys scratched off and only one added. The third call was with Hannah, who Emma didn\u8217?t much like, but she had to be invited, as she came from a wealthy family and was popular with the boys. Two boys added. On and on the calls went, and finally, she had fifteen boys on the list, all vetted by her friends. And that\u8217?s when she realized she\u8217?d have to dump three of them for her boy cousins. She screamed in frustration, preparing herself to argue with her mother than her cousins didn\u8217?t count in the total.\par +\par +### DIRECTIVE\par +Expand to a maximum of 1500 words. Emphasize Emma's snarky dialog with her friends.\par +\par +### SCENE\par + +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/305E4B6C-8E49-4E0D-9B42-296E3BDA845E/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/305E4B6C-8E49-4E0D-9B42-296E3BDA845E/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b29aadf --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/305E4B6C-8E49-4E0D-9B42-296E3BDA845E/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Blond, blue-eyed, handsome, a junior to be in high school \u8212? eyes appear almost gray in shade and resolve clearly in direct light. Compact, muscular, and tan in the way of someone who spends real time outdoors. Has an easy, unguarded quality and is not self-conscious. An avid Tolkien reader: has read the Lord of the Rings trilogy four times and holds strong opinions about Tom Bombadil that he acknowledges most people find excessive. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241/content.rtf index 12303d8..c4750e4 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,11 @@ {\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} {\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 -\f0\fs26 \cf0 Emma\'92s best friend and always up for lounging in the pool at Emma\'92s house. Born in America of Chinese immigrants. Beautiful and outgoing, wears the same dress size as Emma. Serves the secondary role as Emma\'92s enforcer in the gang of fashionable girls who orbit around Emma.} \ No newline at end of file +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Emma\'92s best friend and always up for lounging in the pool at Emma\'92s house. Born in America of Chinese immigrants. Beautiful and outgoing, wears the same dress size as Emma. Best friends with Emma since 2 +\fs16 \super nd +\fs24 \nosupersub grade. Serves the secondary role as Emma\'92s enforcer in the gang of fashionable girls who orbit around Emma.\ +Often sleeps over at Emma\'92s house or Emma at hers.\ +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/3D39ED0A-BE69-4CD9-BDFE-A38982FE786D/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/3D39ED0A-BE69-4CD9-BDFE-A38982FE786D/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7628760 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/3D39ED0A-BE69-4CD9-BDFE-A38982FE786D/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,81 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The coffee was good. Elikapeka stood at the kitchen counter with both hands wrapped around the mug and allowed herself thirty seconds of stillness before the evening swallowed her whole.\par +\par +Through the sliding glass door she could see Susan Carpenter moving between the rented folding tables with the brisk competence of a woman who had organized school fundraisers and church potlucks and knew exactly how a tablecloth should be anchored against a canal breeze. The caterers\u8212?two young men and a girl in black polo shirts\u8212?were arranging chafing dishes with the careful efficiency of people being paid by the hour. The patio looked better than Elikapeka had expected. The string lights she and Emma had hung last night caught the late-afternoon sun and would come into their own once the sky darkened.\par +\par +Thirty-six children.\par +\par +She drank her coffee.\par +\par +From behind the house came the low, pleasant thump of bass finding its footing, then a moment of silence, then the opening of something Emma had described as essential. Elikapeka recognized it dimly. The sound system on Jim's sailboat apparently worked. She heard Andy's laugh carry across the water\u8212?that easy, unselfconscious laugh of a man holding a beer and doing something pleasant with his hands\u8212?and then Alex Carpenter's voice saying something she couldn't make out, and then both of them laughing, and then Jim's voice joining in. Three men on a sailboat in a canal in Fort Lauderdale in June, which was exactly what three such men would choose to be doing on a Friday evening if given any latitude at all.\par +\par +She had given them the latitude. She was not sorry about it. The sound system worked and they were out of her kitchen.\par +\par +The doorbell rang.\par +\par +Ella appeared from the direction of the stairs with a boy behind her, and Elikapeka registered the boy before she registered anything else, which was how she always registered Bobby Carpenter\u8212?as a presence slightly larger than expected, taller this year than last in a way that still surprised her faintly each time. He'd always been a polite boy. He was a polite taller boy now. He had the particular expression of someone who understood he'd been drafted and was trying to look willing.\par +\par +Ella was already moving toward the front door with the focused economy of someone who had been given a task and intended to discharge it efficiently and return to her own concerns. She was wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, practical and unadorned, and Elikapeka thought for the hundredth time that Ella would find this entire evening mildly tolerable at best and was doing it because she'd been asked.\par +\par +She heard the door open.\par +\par +She heard Michelle's voice.\par +\par +Elikapeka set her coffee mug on the counter and moved to the kitchen doorway where she could see the entry hall. Michelle Hayes was a compact, energetic woman married to the most amiable of the three Hayes brothers, and she had brought all three boy cousins in one efficient delivery, like a woman who had learned to consolidate her errands. The cousins came through the door in a loose cluster\u8212?Devin first, who was sixteen and had the unhurried manner of a boy who had been told he was good-looking often enough to believe it; Tyler behind him, who was fifteen and had apparently had some kind of recent moment of recognition with Lizzie that still mildly baffled Elikapeka; and Marcus last, who was fourteen, who was wearing his flip flops on the wrong feet, and who was already looking past everyone toward the back of the house with an expression that could only be described as strategic.\par +\par +Emma appeared from the direction of the stairs with Mai Lin one step behind her, the two of them moving in the synchronized way of girls who had been best friends since the second grade and had developed a shared locomotion. Both wore coveralls over their swimsuits. Emma's coverall, Elikapeka noted, was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, which was cover the swimsuit she and Andy had disagreed about. She had made her peace with it. More or less.\par +\par +Emma greeted her cousins with the warmth of a hostess who had already filed several private grievances about their attendance and had decided, professionally, to set those aside for the duration of the evening. She kissed Michelle's cheek and pointed all three boys toward the back of the house with a gesture that was somehow both gracious and directional, the way a good ma\u238?tre d' points guests toward a table.\par +\par +They did not require pointing twice.\par +\par +Tee shirts hit the kitchen floor. Flip flops went in two different directions. Devin cleared the sliding glass door first. Tyler was a half-step behind him. Marcus, she noticed, had already located something\u8212?a Nerf football, presumably from the basket of pool toys she kept in the utility closet\u8212?and was holding it above his head like a trophy as he crossed the patio and hit the water with a sound that reached her from twenty feet away.\par +\par +The men on the sailboat cheered.\par +\par +Elikapeka picked up Marcus's tee shirt from the kitchen floor and folded it.\par +\par +"Mrs. Hayes, should I\u8212?" Bobby started, gesturing vaguely toward the backyard in a way that suggested he would go wherever he was pointed.\par +\par +"Go on," Elikapeka said. "You're doing Ella a kindness."\par +\par +Ella's expression suggested she disputed the framing but would not contest it in front of her mother. She and Bobby went out through the sliding door. Elikapeka could hear Susan Carpenter greeting them warmly, because Susan was the kind of woman who greeted everyone warmly as a matter of genuine temperament rather than social management.\par +\par +The music from the sailboat shifted to something louder and the bass settled into the boards of the dock and came up through the kitchen floor faintly, which was not something she'd anticipated but was, she decided, acceptable.\par +\par +Michelle had come through to the kitchen. She was already opening the refrigerator with the easy familiarity of a woman who'd stood in this kitchen dozens of times, which she had.\par +\par +"The tables look beautiful," Michelle said, pulling out the pitcher of iced tea Elikapeka had made that morning.\par +\par +"Susan did most of the arranging."\par +\par +"The lights were Emma's idea, I assume."\par +\par +"Emma's idea and Emma's installation. She had Lizzie on the ladder."\par +\par +Michelle laughed. "How is Lizzie taking all this?"\par +\par +"She has a book," Elikapeka said.\par +\par +"Smart girl."\par +\par +The doorbell rang again. And then again before she'd taken three steps. And then, before she reached the hallway, a third time, because whoever was on the other side was either impatient or had missed the first attempt and was making up for it. She opened the door to four girls at once, all of them in coveralls, all of them carrying towels in the pastel colors of girls who coordinated these things in advance. They were talking before the door was fully open and did not stop talking as they came through it, and Elikapeka caught their names\u8212?she'd reviewed the list twice\u8212?and matched three of four on the first pass.\par +\par +Then more cars. Then more voices at the door. Then the particular compound noise of a party finding its footing, which was different from the noise of one or two or five people gathered in a place. It had a texture to it, something almost physical, and it rose from the backyard and came in through the sliding door and mixed with the music from the sailboat and the caterers' efficient movements and Michelle's steady presence at the counter and the smell of the chafing dish lids just beginning to warm.\par +\par +From the pool she heard the distinct and unmistakable sound of a cannonball.\par +\par +Then laughter. Then what sounded like protest. Then more laughter.\par +\par +Marcus.\par +\par +She knew without looking. She would have bet money.\par +\par +She was standing at the kitchen counter again\u8212?she kept returning to it, some gravitational pull\u8212?and she picked up her coffee mug and found it had gone cold. She drank it anyway and looked out through the sliding door at the thirty-odd young people filling her backyard by degrees, at the sailboat lit now by the dropping sun with three men on its deck who had earned the right to cold beers, at Susan moving between tables with the assurance of a woman who could set a tablecloth in a canal breeze, at Emma holding court near the pool steps with the easy authority of someone who had always expected this exact outcome.\par +\par +Another cannonball.\par +\par +More laughter.\par +\par +Elikapeka smiled into her cold coffee, because it was chaos, and it was hers, and that was not the worst thing in the world to be able to say. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4A927CD7-6BDD-4F9B-BAC5-EB60D0465BEA/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4A927CD7-6BDD-4F9B-BAC5-EB60D0465BEA/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29f573e --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4A927CD7-6BDD-4F9B-BAC5-EB60D0465BEA/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,153 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The patio behind the restaurant was in shade for another twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before the sun would clear the line of palms along the cart path and make sitting outside genuinely unpleasant. For now it was tolerable. A ceiling fan turned overhead without much conviction, and a mockingbird somewhere in the palms was cycling through its repertoire with the manic energy of something that had nowhere to be.\par +\par +Ella had a Sprite and a sleeve of Oreos she'd bought from the vending machine inside. Bobby had a Gatorade, orange, and a bag of pretzels. This was their standard intermission configuration, established over enough Saturday mornings that it had the quality of tradition.\par +\par +The scorecard was on the table between them, flattened under Ella's elbow. Two under each. Eighteen holes of trading the lead and giving it back and taking it again, neither of them pulling more than one hole clear at any point. It was the kind of round that was satisfying and infuriating in equal measure, and Ella had spent the last quarter mile of the walk back to the clubhouse turning over the par five on sixteen where she'd three-putted from twelve feet and handed him a push when she should have won the hole outright.\par +\par +"You want to talk about sixteen?" Bobby said.\par +\par +"I don't."\par +\par +"Because I'm happy to talk about sixteen."\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"I'm just saying, that second putt\u8212?"\par +\par +"If you finish that sentence I'm going to eat all of these Oreos and not give you any, and I was going to give you some."\par +\par +He leaned back in his chair and held up both hands. "Not another word about sixteen."\par +\par +She pushed three Oreos across the table. He took them without ceremony.\par +\par +They sat for a moment in the particular comfortable silence that was one of the things Ella actually valued about Bobby Carpenter\u8212?not many people she could be quiet with without it becoming awkward, but Bobby was one of them. He'd been her Saturday morning for three years now, through two swing coaches and a growth spurt and the whole evolving calculus of what she needed to become the golfer she intended to be. He'd seen her cry exactly once, after the district tournament junior year, and he had said nothing then either, which was exactly right.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon," he said.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon."\par +\par +"You know I'm going to birdie six, seven, and eight."\par +\par +"You've been threatening to birdie six, seven, and eight since February and you've done it exactly zero times."\par +\par +"Today's the day."\par +\par +"You say that about a lot of days."\par +\par +"I'm an optimist." He ate an Oreo in one piece, which Ella found obscurely irritating. "Whereas you are a pessimist who happens to play golf well enough that it looks like confidence."\par +\par +"That's the most wrong thing you've ever said, and you once told me I was gripping the club like I was trying to strangle a raccoon."\par +\par +"You were."\par +\par +"I was not."\par +\par +"Your knuckles were white, Ella."\par +\par +She drank her Sprite. The mockingbird had moved closer, or found a more ambitious portion of its repertoire. Somewhere inside, through the glass, she could see her father at the bar with Alex, two cold beers between them, deep in whatever conversation fathers had when their children were occupied. She had never fully understood how her father could drink two beers at the turn and then go out and shoot thirty-eight on the back nine with the same untroubled swing he'd had on the front. It didn't seem fair and it didn't seem physiologically consistent with what she'd learned in health class.\par +\par +Bobby was watching her watch her father.\par +\par +"He's fine," Bobby said.\par +\par +"I know he's fine. I've seen him chug a beer and make a forty-foot putt."\par +\par +"My dad's on his third."\par +\par +"Your dad is not fine."\par +\par +"My dad is going to birdie six anyway because he doesn't know enough about the hole to be scared of it." Bobby pulled his chair slightly forward and rested his elbows on the table. He had, Ella noticed with mild irritation, gotten significantly taller in the last year. He was now legitimately tall rather than just taller-than-average, which was part of what was doing things to his driving distance and creating new problems for her. "Hey, so. Ella."\par +\par +She recognized the tone. "No."\par +\par +"I haven't said anything."\par +\par +"You were about to."\par +\par +"I might have been about to say literally anything."\par +\par +"You were about to ask me to the movies or something and I'm telling you no in advance so we can skip the whole part where you ask and I say no and then you pretend you don't care."\par +\par +Bobby grinned. He had an aggravating grin, easy and undefeated, the grin of someone who had asked a question so many times that the answer had stopped landing. "Would you consider dinner instead of movies?"\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"Just dinner. There's that Italian place in Sunrise that you like."\par +\par +"I like the bread there. The bread is the absolute best. That's not the same as liking going to dinner. With you."\par +\par +"You could go for the bread."\par +\par +"I'm not going to dinner with you."\par +\par +"What about just the bread then, strictly a bread-acquisition errand, no romantic implications\u8212?"\par +\par +"You are in the friend zone," Ella said. "You have been in the friend zone. The friend zone is, for you, a permanent and non-negotiable territory with clearly established borders. There is no diplomatic mission that gets you out of the friend zone."\par +\par +He didn't stop grinning. "I appreciate the clarity."\par +\par +"I don't know why you keep asking."\par +\par +"Because one day you're going to run out of metaphors for the friend zone and you'll have to say yes by default."\par +\par +"I have an unlimited supply of friend zone metaphors. I could do this all afternoon."\par +\par +"We have an hour."\par +\par +"I'm very efficient."\par +\par +He ate another Oreo, this one in two pieces, which felt like a concession of some kind. Outside the shade perimeter, the sun was doing serious work on the cart path, and the heat coming off the asphalt had a visible quality to it, a slight atmospheric distortion that made the distant palms look like they were breathing.\par +\par +"For the record," Bobby said, "I'm going to keep asking."\par +\par +"I know you are."\par +\par +"It's not a thing I'm going to stop doing."\par +\par +"I know that too."\par +\par +"Just wanted to be transparent about my intentions."\par +\par +"Your intentions are transparent. They've always been transparent. You're not exactly a complicated person, Bobby."\par +\par +"And yet here you are, spending your entire summer playing golf with me."\par +\par +"I always spend my summers playing golf," Ella said. "You happen to be the best available opponent. Don't read into it more than that."\par +\par +"It's going in my memory as reading into it."\par +\par +She didn't say anything to that. The fan turned. The mockingbird finished one cycle and started another. Her father laughed at something Alex said, the sound coming through the glass slightly muffled.\par +\par +At ten minutes to noon, Ella stood, gathered her Sprite and the remaining Oreos, and nodded toward the clubhouse. "Let's go get the cart."\par +\par +The clubhouse was cool and dark inside after the patio, and the woman at the counter handed over the key without ceremony. Cart fourteen. Ella took the key before Bobby's hand was halfway across the counter.\par +\par +"I'm driving," she said.\par +\par +"You always drive."\par +\par +"Because you tried to put us in the water on eleven."\par +\par +"That was one time and the path curves."\par +\par +"The path has always curved. It curved the week before that and the week before that. The curve is not a new development." She pushed through the side door into the cart barn, found fourteen, and swung into the driver's seat with the efficiency of someone claiming territory. Bobby came around the other side and got in.\par +\par +"You know," he said, "in certain cultures, letting the passenger drive occasionally is considered a mark of social maturity."\par +\par +"Good thing I don't live in those cultures."\par +\par +"I'm just noting that you have control issues."\par +\par +"I don't have control issues. I have correct-decision-making habits. These are different."\par +\par +He settled back against the seat and put his arm along the back of it, easy and comfortable, and she was aware of this peripherally and in a way that she filed immediately into the category of things she didn't examine. Bobby Carpenter was her Saturday morning. He was her best opponent and the person who'd seen her three-putt from twelve feet and not said anything devastating about it. He was funny and tall and an infuriating driver of golf carts, and none of that was relevant to anything.\par +\par +She started the cart.\par +\par +"Palms, hole one," she said.\par +\par +"Hole one," he agreed.\par +\par +The cart rolled forward out of the staging area and into the white blaze of the afternoon, and ahead of them the Palms course opened up wide and shimmering in the heat, soft and forgiving and ready to be argued over, hole by hole, for the rest of the day. As she drove off, she saw her father and Bobby's father come out and walk towards the cart barn. It was time to play golf. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4BABE4D4-4FFA-4EA2-9C68-A7881D22E7C2/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4BABE4D4-4FFA-4EA2-9C68-A7881D22E7C2/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..28c7b25 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4BABE4D4-4FFA-4EA2-9C68-A7881D22E7C2/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,99 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The seventeenth hole had given Andy a moment of hope for her, which was the cruelest thing a golf course could do.\par +\par +He'd watched her striped six-iron from the fairway settle four feet from the pin, watched her read the putt with the focused economy of motion he'd spent years teaching her, and watched the ball fall dead center into the cup. She'd allowed herself one tight nod\u8212?not a fist pump, not a word\u8212?and picked up her ball and walked to the eighteenth tee with the bearing of someone who had not yet lost anything. That was his daughter. That was three years of Saturday mornings made visible.\par +\par +One shot back, needing a birdie. Playing the eighteenth on the Palms course, which was not the Palms course's idea of a good time for anyone.\par +\par +Andy hung back near the cart path with Alex while the kids played up ahead. Alex had cracked his third beer of the back nine and offered one across with a sociable tilt of the can. Andy shook his head. He'd finished his second on sixteen and he was done. He needed to watch this clearly.\par +\par +"She's going to be fine," Alex said.\par +\par +"I know."\par +\par +"She's right back in it."\par +\par +"I know she is."\par +\par +Alex looked at him. "You're not actually worried about the match."\par +\par +"I'm not worried about anything."\par +\par +"You've got that face."\par +\par +Andy didn't answer because Alex wasn't entirely wrong and because there wasn't anything useful to say about it. He'd been watching Ella golf since she was nine years old gripping a cut-down seven-iron on the driving range, and he could read her like a stock chart. The back nine today had been uneven in a way that had nothing to do with her swing. Her swing was fine. Her swing was always fine. It was the thing behind the swing that had been slightly out of adjustment, the internal temperature she usually managed without thinking about it. She'd been managing it today, but only just.\par +\par +He knew what that kind of management cost.\par +\par +Bobby had played beautifully all afternoon. The kid had grown into something this year\u8212?not just the height, though that was part of it, the extra leverage translating directly into yards that Ella no longer had a comfortable cushion against. It was also just the general settling of him, the way he moved through a round without the peaks and valleys that defined most high school golfers, without the miniature crises over a bad bounce or an unlucky kick. He had his father's ease on a golf course, if not Alex's liquid assistance in achieving it. Bobby played like someone who expected to be there.\par +\par +Ella played like someone who intended to win, which was a different thing entirely, and usually it was the difference that made her the best player on any course she stepped onto. Today it had been working against her in small, compounding ways.\par +\par +Sixteen had been the disaster.\par +\par +Andy had seen it coming from the moment she'd pulled the wrong club on her second shot\u8212?he'd seen it and said nothing because there was nothing to say, she didn't want help and wouldn't have taken it, and part of learning to be a golfer was making your own mistakes in your own time. The penalty had been two shots she couldn't fully recover from, and he'd watched her absorb them with a controlled anger that was visible only if you knew what you were looking at. A tightening around the jaw. The way she replaced the divot with slightly too much force.\par +\par +Now Bobby was standing by the eighteenth green waiting with a ball two feet from the pin and a birdie as inevitable as weather.\par +\par +Ella was in the bunker.\par +\par +Andy walked up to the edge of the green and stopped. Alex came alongside him. Neither of them spoke.\par +\par +He could see the lie from where he stood and he felt it in his stomach before his mind had fully processed it\u8212?the ball settled down into the sand at an angle that meant the back edge of the bunker's lip had gotten involved, burying it into a small depression that a pro golfer would curse quietly and privately before playing for nothing more than a clean exit. Any lie in a bunker was manageable. A buried lie in a bunker, with the pin thirty feet away and the match on it, was a different conversation.\par +\par +Ella stood at the edge looking down at it.\par +\par +He could see her temper from forty feet away. Not in any obvious gesture\u8212?she wasn't the kind of girl who wore it openly. It was in the stillness of her, the way she went very quiet in the way that preceded something precise and controlled and likely insufficient. She was doing the math the same way he was doing the math, and she was arriving at the same answer, and she was refusing to accept it on principle.\par +\par +That was his daughter too.\par +\par +She stepped down into the bunker. Addressed the ball with her sand wedge. Took her stance, adjusted it slightly, took it again. He watched her set her jaw.\par +\par +Bobby had drifted to the far side of the green to stay out of her sightline, which was a considerate piece of golf etiquette and probably also self-preservation. The kid understood her better than most.\par +\par +She swung.\par +\par +It was a full, committed swing\u8212?no half measures, no protective caution\u8212?and the sand exploded upward in a white burst that caught the afternoon light and hung for a moment before dispersing. The ball came up high and clean out of it, which was the part that gave Andy one half second of irrational hope, the ball up in the air and possible, everything possible while it was in the air\u8212?\par +\par +It hit the green eight feet past the hole and rolled.\par +\par +He watched it. Everyone watched it. The break was left to right and it ran with the break, slowing, slowing, and stopped three feet beyond the cup.\par +\par +Not in.\par +\par +The sand had barely settled in the bunker before Ella was climbing out of it, rake in hand. She raked the sand with the clipped, efficient movements of someone who has moved past the event and does not intend to discuss it. She walked up onto the green and looked at Bobby, who was already extending his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. One clean shake.\par +\par +"Good round," she said. Her voice was entirely level.\par +\par +"You too," Bobby said. He was keeping his face straight with visible effort.\par +\par +She conceded his putt with a nod that didn't require words, and then she looked at her own ball for a moment and did the thing that Andy had watched her do before\u8212?the thing that was entirely Ella and that he had never quite managed to talk her out of\u8212?she stepped to the edge of the green where it dropped away toward the small decorative pond that ran along the cart path, drew her foot back, and kicked the ball cleanly off the green and into the water with a small, satisfying splash.\par +\par +She didn't watch it land. She was already walking.\par +\par +Bobby let her go. Andy caught his eye briefly and Bobby shrugged, one shoulder, with the half-grin of a kid who had earned something rare and wasn't going to waste it on commentary. He was right to let her walk. Andy had raised her and he would have let her walk too.\par +\par +He and Alex fell in behind her at a reasonable distance.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Andy said.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Alex said. "Bobby just played slightly better, specifically on sixteen."\par +\par +"Let's not quantify it."\par +\par +"Fair enough."\par +\par +They drove the cart in comfortable silence back toward the cart barn. The afternoon was long and hot and the shadows were beginning to stretch across the fairways in the way they did in late May when the day had given everything it had and was finally starting to let go. Ahead of them, Ella's back was straight and her stride was fast and she was not looking at anything except where she was going.\par +\par +In the truck, Andy gave her the silence she needed. He merged onto Federal Highway heading north and let the air conditioning run and watched the road and said nothing. She sat with her arm along the window ledge and her jaw still set and her eyes on the landscape going past.\par +\par +She knew the numbers as well as he did. Every player on tour, every professional who'd ever put a ball in the air for a living, won less than a quarter of the time they entered. The best players in the world lost three tournaments for every one they won. She knew this. He'd told her and she'd understood it and filed it away and it made not one bit of difference to her when she was the one doing the losing.\par +\par +Every time. Every single time, it hit her exactly like the first time.\par +\par +He didn't think this was something he needed to fix. He thought it might be what made her good.\par +\par +He drove. The radio was on low, country music playing. She stared out the window and let the miles do the work that miles were for, and eventually her jaw unclenched by a small degree, and he saw it, and said nothing about that either. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4FC1875D-D7B5-476F-849F-BE14C23D9FBE/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4FC1875D-D7B5-476F-849F-BE14C23D9FBE/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bdbefc --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/4FC1875D-D7B5-476F-849F-BE14C23D9FBE/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 From her parents' bedroom, Emma phones Susanna, Mai Lin, and Hannah in succession to build a vetted boy-invitation list that reaches fifteen names\u8212?adding Nate Oliveira, eliminating Chris DeLuca for calling Mai Lin and Emma interchangeable, and flagging Ryan from the swim team for confirmation\u8212?before calculating that her mother's mandate to include all three boy cousins (Devin, Tyler, and cannonball-prone Marcus) will disrupt her intended gender balance of fifteen boys to ten girls, leaving her without a workable counter-argument to raise the guest cap and only the unresolved notation "cousins don't count\u8212?separate category" starred on her notepad. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5642F8DB-95DC-4113-B240-1AE528EE4EBC/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5642F8DB-95DC-4113-B240-1AE528EE4EBC/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..28c7b25 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5642F8DB-95DC-4113-B240-1AE528EE4EBC/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,99 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The seventeenth hole had given Andy a moment of hope for her, which was the cruelest thing a golf course could do.\par +\par +He'd watched her striped six-iron from the fairway settle four feet from the pin, watched her read the putt with the focused economy of motion he'd spent years teaching her, and watched the ball fall dead center into the cup. She'd allowed herself one tight nod\u8212?not a fist pump, not a word\u8212?and picked up her ball and walked to the eighteenth tee with the bearing of someone who had not yet lost anything. That was his daughter. That was three years of Saturday mornings made visible.\par +\par +One shot back, needing a birdie. Playing the eighteenth on the Palms course, which was not the Palms course's idea of a good time for anyone.\par +\par +Andy hung back near the cart path with Alex while the kids played up ahead. Alex had cracked his third beer of the back nine and offered one across with a sociable tilt of the can. Andy shook his head. He'd finished his second on sixteen and he was done. He needed to watch this clearly.\par +\par +"She's going to be fine," Alex said.\par +\par +"I know."\par +\par +"She's right back in it."\par +\par +"I know she is."\par +\par +Alex looked at him. "You're not actually worried about the match."\par +\par +"I'm not worried about anything."\par +\par +"You've got that face."\par +\par +Andy didn't answer because Alex wasn't entirely wrong and because there wasn't anything useful to say about it. He'd been watching Ella golf since she was nine years old gripping a cut-down seven-iron on the driving range, and he could read her like a stock chart. The back nine today had been uneven in a way that had nothing to do with her swing. Her swing was fine. Her swing was always fine. It was the thing behind the swing that had been slightly out of adjustment, the internal temperature she usually managed without thinking about it. She'd been managing it today, but only just.\par +\par +He knew what that kind of management cost.\par +\par +Bobby had played beautifully all afternoon. The kid had grown into something this year\u8212?not just the height, though that was part of it, the extra leverage translating directly into yards that Ella no longer had a comfortable cushion against. It was also just the general settling of him, the way he moved through a round without the peaks and valleys that defined most high school golfers, without the miniature crises over a bad bounce or an unlucky kick. He had his father's ease on a golf course, if not Alex's liquid assistance in achieving it. Bobby played like someone who expected to be there.\par +\par +Ella played like someone who intended to win, which was a different thing entirely, and usually it was the difference that made her the best player on any course she stepped onto. Today it had been working against her in small, compounding ways.\par +\par +Sixteen had been the disaster.\par +\par +Andy had seen it coming from the moment she'd pulled the wrong club on her second shot\u8212?he'd seen it and said nothing because there was nothing to say, she didn't want help and wouldn't have taken it, and part of learning to be a golfer was making your own mistakes in your own time. The penalty had been two shots she couldn't fully recover from, and he'd watched her absorb them with a controlled anger that was visible only if you knew what you were looking at. A tightening around the jaw. The way she replaced the divot with slightly too much force.\par +\par +Now Bobby was standing by the eighteenth green waiting with a ball two feet from the pin and a birdie as inevitable as weather.\par +\par +Ella was in the bunker.\par +\par +Andy walked up to the edge of the green and stopped. Alex came alongside him. Neither of them spoke.\par +\par +He could see the lie from where he stood and he felt it in his stomach before his mind had fully processed it\u8212?the ball settled down into the sand at an angle that meant the back edge of the bunker's lip had gotten involved, burying it into a small depression that a pro golfer would curse quietly and privately before playing for nothing more than a clean exit. Any lie in a bunker was manageable. A buried lie in a bunker, with the pin thirty feet away and the match on it, was a different conversation.\par +\par +Ella stood at the edge looking down at it.\par +\par +He could see her temper from forty feet away. Not in any obvious gesture\u8212?she wasn't the kind of girl who wore it openly. It was in the stillness of her, the way she went very quiet in the way that preceded something precise and controlled and likely insufficient. She was doing the math the same way he was doing the math, and she was arriving at the same answer, and she was refusing to accept it on principle.\par +\par +That was his daughter too.\par +\par +She stepped down into the bunker. Addressed the ball with her sand wedge. Took her stance, adjusted it slightly, took it again. He watched her set her jaw.\par +\par +Bobby had drifted to the far side of the green to stay out of her sightline, which was a considerate piece of golf etiquette and probably also self-preservation. The kid understood her better than most.\par +\par +She swung.\par +\par +It was a full, committed swing\u8212?no half measures, no protective caution\u8212?and the sand exploded upward in a white burst that caught the afternoon light and hung for a moment before dispersing. The ball came up high and clean out of it, which was the part that gave Andy one half second of irrational hope, the ball up in the air and possible, everything possible while it was in the air\u8212?\par +\par +It hit the green eight feet past the hole and rolled.\par +\par +He watched it. Everyone watched it. The break was left to right and it ran with the break, slowing, slowing, and stopped three feet beyond the cup.\par +\par +Not in.\par +\par +The sand had barely settled in the bunker before Ella was climbing out of it, rake in hand. She raked the sand with the clipped, efficient movements of someone who has moved past the event and does not intend to discuss it. She walked up onto the green and looked at Bobby, who was already extending his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. One clean shake.\par +\par +"Good round," she said. Her voice was entirely level.\par +\par +"You too," Bobby said. He was keeping his face straight with visible effort.\par +\par +She conceded his putt with a nod that didn't require words, and then she looked at her own ball for a moment and did the thing that Andy had watched her do before\u8212?the thing that was entirely Ella and that he had never quite managed to talk her out of\u8212?she stepped to the edge of the green where it dropped away toward the small decorative pond that ran along the cart path, drew her foot back, and kicked the ball cleanly off the green and into the water with a small, satisfying splash.\par +\par +She didn't watch it land. She was already walking.\par +\par +Bobby let her go. Andy caught his eye briefly and Bobby shrugged, one shoulder, with the half-grin of a kid who had earned something rare and wasn't going to waste it on commentary. He was right to let her walk. Andy had raised her and he would have let her walk too.\par +\par +He and Alex fell in behind her at a reasonable distance.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Andy said.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Alex said. "Bobby just played slightly better, specifically on sixteen."\par +\par +"Let's not quantify it."\par +\par +"Fair enough."\par +\par +They drove the cart in comfortable silence back toward the cart barn. The afternoon was long and hot and the shadows were beginning to stretch across the fairways in the way they did in late May when the day had given everything it had and was finally starting to let go. Ahead of them, Ella's back was straight and her stride was fast and she was not looking at anything except where she was going.\par +\par +In the truck, Andy gave her the silence she needed. He merged onto Federal Highway heading north and let the air conditioning run and watched the road and said nothing. She sat with her arm along the window ledge and her jaw still set and her eyes on the landscape going past.\par +\par +She knew the numbers as well as he did. Every player on tour, every professional who'd ever put a ball in the air for a living, won less than a quarter of the time they entered. The best players in the world lost three tournaments for every one they won. She knew this. He'd told her and she'd understood it and filed it away and it made not one bit of difference to her when she was the one doing the losing.\par +\par +Every time. Every single time, it hit her exactly like the first time.\par +\par +He didn't think this was something he needed to fix. He thought it might be what made her good.\par +\par +He drove. The radio was on low, country music playing. She stared out the window and let the miles do the work that miles were for, and eventually her jaw unclenched by a small degree, and he saw it, and said nothing about that either. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5D497AFF-B4C1-419D-AB82-DDEFF79216A4/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5D497AFF-B4C1-419D-AB82-DDEFF79216A4/content.rtf index cb5aa30..c0da5d2 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5D497AFF-B4C1-419D-AB82-DDEFF79216A4/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/5D497AFF-B4C1-419D-AB82-DDEFF79216A4/content.rtf @@ -6,5 +6,26 @@ One term per line: term \u8212?usage note. Keep the complete book-level register Continuity update from Scene 4:\par Mrs. Patterson \u8212? Lizzie's English teacher; assessed Lizzie as reading at a college level.\par Lighthouse Point \u8212? the Hayes family's town; the story is set here.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 6:\par +Susanna Greer \u8212? head cheerleader at Emma and Mai Lin's school; treated as the authoritative arbiter of which boys are socially viable.\par +Jake Ferreira \u8212? boy approved for Emma's party list; Susanna's first and obvious nomination.\par +Chris DeLuca \u8212? boy struck from Emma's party list after it emerged he told Hannah Prescott that Emma and Mai Lin were interchangeable.\par +Brandon Hicks \u8212? boy approved for Emma's party list.\par +Tyler Kim \u8212? boy excluded from Emma's party list; Mai Lin reported he stared at her strangely in third period.\par +Nate Oliveira \u8212? boy added to Emma's party list on Mai Lin's nomination; was kind to Mai Lin at a track meet.\par +Hannah Prescott \u8212? popular with boys, comes from money; Emma uses her as a social resource while harboring no illusions about her motives. Nominated Marcus Webb and Corey Janssen for the party list.\par +Marcus Webb \u8212? boy added to Emma's party list via Hannah.\par +Corey Janssen \u8212? boy added to Emma's party list via Hannah.\par +Ryan (swim team) \u8212? potential party invitee; recently broke up with his girlfriend per Hannah; status marked for confirmation by Emma.\par +Devin \u8212? one of Emma's three boy cousins; considered tolerable by Emma.\par +Tyler (cousin) \u8212? one of Emma's three boy cousins; Lizzie has claimed some acquaintance with him, which Emma finds both amusing and faintly annoying.\par +Marcus (cousin) \u8212? youngest of Emma's three boy cousins, age fourteen; notorious for performing cannonballs next to people floating quietly in the pool; Emma does not want him at her party.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 7:\par +Palms course \u8212? the golf course where Saturday morning rounds are played; the eighteenth hole is considered particularly punishing.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 9:\par +Jim \u8212? adult friend of Andy Hayes and Alex Carpenter; owns a sailboat docked at the canal behind the Hayes house; was present on the dock during Emma's party.\par } \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/674FAE7C-6F25-4353-90F0-B9268B776895/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/674FAE7C-6F25-4353-90F0-B9268B776895/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..087e79c --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/674FAE7C-6F25-4353-90F0-B9268B776895/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,101 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 If it had been up to Lizzie, she would have spent the evening exactly where she'd spent the afternoon: cross-legged on her bed with a pillow behind her back and four hundred pages of uninterrupted Ursula K. Le Guin ahead of her. That had been the plan. That had been a good plan. But her mother had appeared in the doorway an hour ago with a look that required no translation, and the book was currently face-down on her nightstand waiting for her return, and Lizzie was standing on the pool deck in the middle of something that seemed to be expanding outward in every direction at once.\par +\par +It was loud. It was remarkably, impressively loud for a backyard.\par +\par +Emma's party had hit some kind of critical threshold in the last twenty minutes, the way a fire goes from tentative to committed, and now the whole space had a pulse to it. Music came from Jim's sailboat out on the dock\u8212?she could see the three men on the deck, her father and Bobby's father and Jim, silhouettes tilting bottles in the direction of the sun, which was going orange over the canal and throwing long shadows across the pool. The water in the pool was bright and churned. Six or seven boys had claimed it entirely, splashing with the territorial confidence of boys who had decided a pool was theirs. The girls were mostly on the patio side, gathered around Emma in overlapping clusters, talking in the animated, overlapping way of people who had been looking forward to this specific gathering for two weeks.\par +\par +Lizzie stood slightly to one side of all of it.\par +\par +She had a can of soda she wasn't drinking and a towel draped over her shoulder she wasn't using and she was doing the thing she sometimes did at parties, which was watch, because watching was more interesting than participating and required considerably less energy. Emma didn't understand this about her and probably never would, but Emma was currently at the center of eight separate conversations and was not thinking about Lizzie at all, which was fine. Lizzie watched her sister hold court near the pool steps\u8212?Emma in the green swimsuit she'd deliberated over for three days, sun-bright and completely at ease, laughing at something Mai Lin had just said\u8212?and thought, not unkindly, that Emma genuinely couldn't imagine anyone not wanting this exact thing.\par +\par +From the pool there was a concussive boom of water and then a wave sloshed over the coping onto the deck.\par +\par +"Marcus!" Three voices said it at once.\par +\par +Laughter followed, including, reluctantly, from Lizzie.\par +\par +Marcus surfaced with his arms out, grinning without remorse, and she could see cousin Devin shaking his head with the weary tolerance of a sixteen-year-old who had been dealing with Marcus since birth. Tyler, the middle one, was already retaliating by splashing in Marcus's direction, which caused a general escalation, which caused two of the older boys to drag themselves up onto the coping to avoid the crossfire.\par +\par +One of them was Bobby.\par +\par +Lizzie knew Bobby well enough\u8212?he'd been coming around on Saturdays for years, always polite, always deferential to her parents in the particular way of a boy who understood he was a guest. He pulled himself up to sitting on the pool edge and shook water from his hair, and he was talking to someone still in the pool, and then that person grabbed the edge and came up beside him.\par +\par +Lizzie looked at him.\par +\par +She didn't mean to look the way she looked. It wasn't a decision.\par +\par +He was maybe her age, maybe a year older\u8212?it was hard to tell. Blond. Blue-eyed in the fading early-evening light, the kind of blue that looked almost gray in shade and then resolved clearly when the sun hit. Compact and muscular and tan in the way of boys who spent real time outdoors, not just backyard hours. He was laughing at something Bobby had said, his head tilted back slightly, and there was something about his laugh that was\u8212?\par +\par +Lizzie redirected her eyes to the middle distance and took a long sip of soda she didn't taste.\par +\par +This was disorienting. She had read extensively about this experience\u8212?it appeared in literature with remarkable frequency\u8212?but she had not previously encountered the actual firsthand version, and now that she had, she found herself unprepared for how thoroughly it disrupted normal cognition. She was a person who prided herself on normal cognition.\par +\par +She looked again.\par +\par +He was still there. Obviously he was still there.\par +\par +She was trying to decide whether to go back inside\u8212?the book was there, the book was reliable, the book did not cause this problem\u8212?when something grabbed her arm.\par +\par +She startled badly enough to slosh soda on her wrist.\par +\par +"Come on," Hannah said.\par +\par +Hannah was Emma's friend, not hers, a pretty and slightly curvy girl in an extraordinary one-piece with a pattern of dark jewels at the neckline that had probably cost more than everything in Lizzie's closet. She had the manner of someone who was constitutionally incapable of allowing a social situation to go unimproved, and she had Lizzie by the elbow with the grip of someone who had made a decision.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?"\par +\par +"You'll thank me."\par +\par +"I really don't think\u8212?"\par +\par +But they were already moving. Hannah navigated the pool deck with the breezy confidence of a girl who'd never once been ungraceful, steering around a cluster of boys and a folding chair someone had dragged to the edge, and Lizzie was doing an inventory of every conversational inadequacy she possessed and finding the list alarmingly long when Hannah called out, "Will!"\par +\par +The blond boy looked up.\par +\par +He looked directly at Lizzie.\par +\par +She stopped breathing for a moment, which was a physiological response she now understood was not metaphorical.\par +\par +"This is Lizzie," Hannah said. "Emma's sister. She loves Lord of the Rings."\par +\par +There was a half-beat of silence in which Lizzie became acutely aware that Hannah had already let go of her arm and taken a step back and was in the process of a departure so smooth it was nearly invisible.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?" Lizzie said, but Hannah was already gone, absorbed by a group of girls near the food tables with the seamlessness of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and had zero intention of explaining it.\par +\par +Lizzie stood there. Bobby had drifted off somewhere. It was just her and Will Fontaine on the edge of the pool, the party going loud and bright and chaotic around them, Marcus launching another cannonball into the far end.\par +\par +"Will Fontaine," he said, and held out his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. "Lizzie Hayes."\par +\par +He had an easy, unguarded quality, like someone who hadn't yet learned to be self-conscious. "You actually read it?" he said. "Or Hannah's just doing the thing where she says people have things in common to make them talk?"\par +\par +"Hannah does that?"\par +\par +"Constantly." He said it without malice. "So?"\par +\par +"I've read it three times," Lizzie said. "And the Silmarillion twice, which I'm aware most people don't finish."\par +\par +Something in his expression shifted. Reorganized. "Okay," he said. "Okay, you actually read it."\par +\par +"Do you?"\par +\par +"I've read the trilogy four times and I have opinions about Tom Bombadil that most people find excessive."\par +\par +And there it was\u8212?that thing that happened occasionally, rare enough to be notable, where the unpromising situation inverted itself completely. Lizzie felt the tightness in her chest release a fraction.\par +\par +"Tom Bombadil," she said, "is the most interesting problem in the whole book and nobody talks about it seriously."\par +\par +He turned more fully toward her. "Nobody," he agreed, "because everyone gets stuck on whether he's a god or a nature spirit and misses the actual interesting part, which is that the Ring has absolutely no effect on him\u8212?"\par +\par +"\u8212?which means either he's outside the power structure that makes the Ring meaningful, or he simply doesn't desire anything the Ring could amplify\u8212?"\par +\par +"Exactly." He was animated now, water still running down his shoulder, the pool noise and the music from the sailboat and the accumulated roar of thirty-six teenagers reduced somehow to a middle distance. "Because Sauron's whole thesis is that everything wants. That every will can be captured. And Bombadil disproves that just by existing. He rescues the hobbits from Old Man Willow without ceremony, without drama. He just\u8212?does it. Like it's obvious."\par +\par +"Like it costs him nothing," Lizzie said, "because he has nothing to lose."\par +\par +"Or everything he has can't be taken." He looked at her with a directness that would have been uncomfortable if it hadn't been so clearly intellectual. "Does that mean he's the most powerful being in the story, or the least powerful? Like, the Ring is the whole axis of the story. If you're immune to it, are you even in the same story?"\par +\par +Lizzie had thought about this exact question before. She had written two pages about it in her journal and not arrived anywhere conclusive. She sat down on the pool coping, because this was going to take a minute, and he sat beside her, and somewhere behind them Marcus detonated another wall of water and a girl shrieked in protest and everyone laughed, and the sun went lower, and the music from the dock drifted over them, and the party went on being what it was. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6981EF8D-41BF-4888-A3A2-B79B0CB8C449/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6981EF8D-41BF-4888-A3A2-B79B0CB8C449/content.rtf index 67b8bf6..073b4af 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6981EF8D-41BF-4888-A3A2-B79B0CB8C449/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6981EF8D-41BF-4888-A3A2-B79B0CB8C449/content.rtf @@ -1,11 +1,7 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2868 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} -{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} -{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Andy Hayes.\par +Andy could see Ella had her temper barely under control as she stepped into the bunker with a bad lie and a difficult shot that she had to hole to tie with Bobby in their grudge match after the first round of the day ended a tie. Ella had struggled on the back nine of the Pines course but nevertheless had kept it even until a disastrous double bogey on the sixteenth. She\u8217?d picked up a shot on the seventeenth, but her shot to the green on eighteen had buried in the soft sand, whereas Bobby had hit a perfect iron to about two feet and was eagerly waiting to tap in the putt for birdie and win the match. From her lie, a pro golfer would be happy just to get the ball on the green, but she had to hole it or lose the match. She went into the bunker, sneered at the ugly lie of her nearly buried ball, and took a mighty swing with her sand wedge. The ball popped high into the air, the sand nearly blinding her, and the ball rolled past the hole and the match was lost.\par +She angrily raked the sand and went up on the green and shook Bobby\u8217?s outstretched hand, conceding his putt, kicking her ball into the pond, turned and stalked off the green. Bobby knew she was furious and let her go without any trash talking. He couldn\u8217?t help grinning, though. It wasn\u8217?t often that he\u8217?d beaten her; she was by far the best player on the high school team, man or woman. She was good enough, he thought, to go pro, once she\u8217?d had a few seasons in college to polish her game.\par +In the truck on the way home, Andy let her fume. She knew, as well as he did, that even the best golfers in the world won fewer than one-fourth of their tournaments. But it always made her angry to lose, every darn time.\par -\f0\fs26 \cf0 This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Andy Hayes.\ -Andy could see Ella had her temper barely under control as she stepped into the bunker with a bad lie and a difficult shot that she had to hole to tie with Bobby in their grudge match after the first round of the day ended a tie. Ella had struggled on the back nine of the Pines course but nevertheless had kept it even until a disastrous double bogey on the sixteenth. She\'92d picked up a shot on the seventeenth, but her shot to the green on eighteen had buried in the soft sand, whereas Bobby had hit a perfect iron to about two feet and was eagerly waiting to tap in the putt for birdie and win the match. From her lie, a pro golfer would be happy just to get the ball on the green, but she had to hole it or lose the match. She went into the bunker, sneered at the ugly lie of her nearly buried ball, and took a mighty swing with her sand wedge. The ball popped high into the air, the sand nearly blinding her, and the ball rolled past the hole and the match was lost.\ -She angrily raked the sand and went up on the green and shook Bobby\'92s outstretched hand, conceding his putt, kicking her ball into the pond, turned and stalked off the green. Bobby knew she was furious and let her go without any trash talking. He couldn\'92t help grinning, though. It wasn\'92t often that he\'92d beaten her; she was by far the best player on the high school team, man or woman. She was good enough, he thought, to go pro, once she\'92d had a few seasons in college to polish her game.\ -In the truck on the way home, Andy let her fume. She knew, as well as he did, that even the best golfers in the world won fewer than one-fourth of their tournaments. But it always made her angry to lose, every darn time.\ -Expand to 1500 words maximum.} \ No newline at end of file +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6CCB20F9-8583-4880-8DA6-5F98FB17E34B/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6CCB20F9-8583-4880-8DA6-5F98FB17E34B/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e0f427 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/6CCB20F9-8583-4880-8DA6-5F98FB17E34B/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,80 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Scene: Scene 5\par +Model: anthropic/claude-sonnet-4.6\par +Character UUIDs: BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3,FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95\par +Accepted for editing: 2026-08-23T17:48:31-05:00\par +\par +### STYLE\par +The style of the novel is in the style but not substance of Ken Follett. Each scene is in third person from the perspective of one of the characters.\par +\par +### LEXICON\par +(none)\par +\par +### STORY\par +Scene 1\par +At 5:47 a.m. on the first weekend of summer, thirteen-year-old Ella Hayes\u8212?golf bag packed, glove handled nervously, mind fixed on a downswing elbow flaw\u8212?endures her father Andy's unhurried breakfast routine before he drives her to Pompano Beach Golf Course, arriving at 6:45 to meet their waiting partner Bobby Carpenter, with the 7:24 tee time for thirty-six holes still unmet and Ella already moving toward the range with nineteen minutes and unresolved mechanical anxiety.\par +\par +Scene 2\par +Andy Hayes and Alex Carpenter exchange information about their children's college ambitions\u8212?Ella targeting Stanford's women's golf program, Bobby aiming for Florida\u8212?while observing the kids on the range, then the four begin their round from the black tees (Ella's insistence), halve the first hole after Bobby outdrives Ella by thirty yards with a birdie but Ella matches him with a holed eighteen-footer, establishing the central competitive dynamic: Bobby's new distance advantage versus Ella's superior short game, with the unresolved tension of whether Ella can close that gap before the stakes of college recruitment make it matter.\par +\par +### CHARACTERS\par +Ella Hayes\par +Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\u8217?s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.\par +\par +Bobby Carpenter\par +Best golfer on the boy\u8217?s high school team and Ella\u8217?s perpetual weekend playing and practice partner. Forever in Ella\u8217?s friend zone.\par +\par +### RECALL\par +(none)\par +\par +### PREVIOUS\par +The first green was a generous size, slightly elevated, with a false front that the course's designers had apparently included as a personal slight against the golfing public. Ella and Bobby had both hit their approaches and were already standing over their balls by the time their fathers arrived. Ella was pin-high left, maybe eighteen feet. Bobby was further out, twenty-two or twenty-three, below the hole, which was the favorable position.\par +\par +"You're away," Ella said.\par +\par +"I know I'm away," Bobby said, already reading his putt, walking the line from behind the ball and then crouching to look at it from the side.\par +\par +Andy stood quietly near the fringe and watched. This was his favorite part of watching Ella play\u8212?not the drives, which were impressive but mechanical, but the moments on the green when she went still and read the thing like a text she was translating rather than a surface she was navigating. She was doing it now, not to her own putt but to Bobby's, watching to see what the green would tell her before she had to ask it herself.\par +\par +Bobby pulled the trigger. The ball tracked right to left, losing speed at exactly the rate the slope demanded, and fell into the front of the hole with a sound that was almost apologetic about how good it was.\par +\par +"Yeah," Bobby said, to no one in particular.\par +\par +Ella waited for him to retrieve his ball and step clear, and then she stood over her own putt, slightly uphill, minimal break. She looked at the hole once, looked down, and hit it.\par +\par +It went in. It went in as though it had not seriously considered any other outcome\u8212?tracking straight, holding its speed, rattling the back of the cup and dropping.\par +\par +Bobby looked at her.\par +\par +She looked at Bobby.\par +\par +"I have a very good short game," she said.\par +\par +"I have seen your short game."\par +\par +"Then this should not be surprising to you."\par +\par +Andy wrote the halved hole on his scorecard and glanced at Alex. Two kids walking toward the second tee already arguing about something, their bags on their backs, their whole summers arranged around this\u8212?eighteen holes today, eighteen more after lunch, and the days that followed full of the same, the slow accumulation of something that Andy suspected was going to be important later in ways that were impossible to name yet.\par +\par +"Eight-fifteen," Alex said again, watching them go.\par +\par +"Eight-fifteen," Andy confirmed, and followed his daughter down the fairway in the early morning heat.\par +\par +### NOTES\par +Pompano Beach Golf Course \u8212? A frequently played course with Andy and Ella. Two eighteen hole courses, the shorter and easier Palms course and the longer and harder Pines course.\par +Late morning, Saturday, late May, 2000, first round finished.\par +\par +### BRIEF\par +This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Ella Hayes.\par +Ella and Bobby sat at a table on the patio outside of the golf course restaurant having a snack. They\u8217?d finished eighteen holes in three and a half hours, but they still had an hour to kill before they could start the next round on the Palms course. Their fathers were inside at the bar, drinking more beer. Sometimes Ella wondered how her father could drink beers and still play solid golf, but he rarely seemed to be affected at all.\par +Ella and Bobby had finished the round tied at two under. The trash talk had gone back and forth during the round, but neither player had ever gotten more than one hole up on the other. It was to be a grunge match on the easier course in the heat of the afternoon. This time, they\u8217?d take a cart rather than walk in the humidity and heat. Ella would drive; she refused to let Bobby drive the cart as one time he\u8217?d almost driven them into a pond. \par +Bobby asked her out again. She rolled her eyes and said he\u8217?d always be in the friend zone. He just grinned, knowing what she\u8217?d say. She\u8217?d never gone out with any of the boys on the golf team, though she was friendly with all of them and been asked by several of them.\par +At last, it was time to play again. They went to the clubhouse and got the key to a cart. Ella drove. She always drove. And she always gave him crap about it.\par +Expand to 1500 words max. Playful, flirty dialog between the two teenagers.\par +\par +### DIRECTIVE\par +Expand to 1500 words max. Playful, flirty dialog between the two teenagers.\par +\par +### SCENE\par + +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/7295FE56-BEF7-431A-8F84-A6313B9EB098/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/7295FE56-BEF7-431A-8F84-A6313B9EB098/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..087e79c --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/7295FE56-BEF7-431A-8F84-A6313B9EB098/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,101 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 If it had been up to Lizzie, she would have spent the evening exactly where she'd spent the afternoon: cross-legged on her bed with a pillow behind her back and four hundred pages of uninterrupted Ursula K. Le Guin ahead of her. That had been the plan. That had been a good plan. But her mother had appeared in the doorway an hour ago with a look that required no translation, and the book was currently face-down on her nightstand waiting for her return, and Lizzie was standing on the pool deck in the middle of something that seemed to be expanding outward in every direction at once.\par +\par +It was loud. It was remarkably, impressively loud for a backyard.\par +\par +Emma's party had hit some kind of critical threshold in the last twenty minutes, the way a fire goes from tentative to committed, and now the whole space had a pulse to it. Music came from Jim's sailboat out on the dock\u8212?she could see the three men on the deck, her father and Bobby's father and Jim, silhouettes tilting bottles in the direction of the sun, which was going orange over the canal and throwing long shadows across the pool. The water in the pool was bright and churned. Six or seven boys had claimed it entirely, splashing with the territorial confidence of boys who had decided a pool was theirs. The girls were mostly on the patio side, gathered around Emma in overlapping clusters, talking in the animated, overlapping way of people who had been looking forward to this specific gathering for two weeks.\par +\par +Lizzie stood slightly to one side of all of it.\par +\par +She had a can of soda she wasn't drinking and a towel draped over her shoulder she wasn't using and she was doing the thing she sometimes did at parties, which was watch, because watching was more interesting than participating and required considerably less energy. Emma didn't understand this about her and probably never would, but Emma was currently at the center of eight separate conversations and was not thinking about Lizzie at all, which was fine. Lizzie watched her sister hold court near the pool steps\u8212?Emma in the green swimsuit she'd deliberated over for three days, sun-bright and completely at ease, laughing at something Mai Lin had just said\u8212?and thought, not unkindly, that Emma genuinely couldn't imagine anyone not wanting this exact thing.\par +\par +From the pool there was a concussive boom of water and then a wave sloshed over the coping onto the deck.\par +\par +"Marcus!" Three voices said it at once.\par +\par +Laughter followed, including, reluctantly, from Lizzie.\par +\par +Marcus surfaced with his arms out, grinning without remorse, and she could see cousin Devin shaking his head with the weary tolerance of a sixteen-year-old who had been dealing with Marcus since birth. Tyler, the middle one, was already retaliating by splashing in Marcus's direction, which caused a general escalation, which caused two of the older boys to drag themselves up onto the coping to avoid the crossfire.\par +\par +One of them was Bobby.\par +\par +Lizzie knew Bobby well enough\u8212?he'd been coming around on Saturdays for years, always polite, always deferential to her parents in the particular way of a boy who understood he was a guest. He pulled himself up to sitting on the pool edge and shook water from his hair, and he was talking to someone still in the pool, and then that person grabbed the edge and came up beside him.\par +\par +Lizzie looked at him.\par +\par +She didn't mean to look the way she looked. It wasn't a decision.\par +\par +He was maybe her age, maybe a year older\u8212?it was hard to tell. Blond. Blue-eyed in the fading early-evening light, the kind of blue that looked almost gray in shade and then resolved clearly when the sun hit. Compact and muscular and tan in the way of boys who spent real time outdoors, not just backyard hours. He was laughing at something Bobby had said, his head tilted back slightly, and there was something about his laugh that was\u8212?\par +\par +Lizzie redirected her eyes to the middle distance and took a long sip of soda she didn't taste.\par +\par +This was disorienting. She had read extensively about this experience\u8212?it appeared in literature with remarkable frequency\u8212?but she had not previously encountered the actual firsthand version, and now that she had, she found herself unprepared for how thoroughly it disrupted normal cognition. She was a person who prided herself on normal cognition.\par +\par +She looked again.\par +\par +He was still there. Obviously he was still there.\par +\par +She was trying to decide whether to go back inside\u8212?the book was there, the book was reliable, the book did not cause this problem\u8212?when something grabbed her arm.\par +\par +She startled badly enough to slosh soda on her wrist.\par +\par +"Come on," Hannah said.\par +\par +Hannah was Emma's friend, not hers, a pretty and slightly curvy girl in an extraordinary one-piece with a pattern of dark jewels at the neckline that had probably cost more than everything in Lizzie's closet. She had the manner of someone who was constitutionally incapable of allowing a social situation to go unimproved, and she had Lizzie by the elbow with the grip of someone who had made a decision.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?"\par +\par +"You'll thank me."\par +\par +"I really don't think\u8212?"\par +\par +But they were already moving. Hannah navigated the pool deck with the breezy confidence of a girl who'd never once been ungraceful, steering around a cluster of boys and a folding chair someone had dragged to the edge, and Lizzie was doing an inventory of every conversational inadequacy she possessed and finding the list alarmingly long when Hannah called out, "Will!"\par +\par +The blond boy looked up.\par +\par +He looked directly at Lizzie.\par +\par +She stopped breathing for a moment, which was a physiological response she now understood was not metaphorical.\par +\par +"This is Lizzie," Hannah said. "Emma's sister. She loves Lord of the Rings."\par +\par +There was a half-beat of silence in which Lizzie became acutely aware that Hannah had already let go of her arm and taken a step back and was in the process of a departure so smooth it was nearly invisible.\par +\par +"Hannah\u8212?" Lizzie said, but Hannah was already gone, absorbed by a group of girls near the food tables with the seamlessness of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and had zero intention of explaining it.\par +\par +Lizzie stood there. Bobby had drifted off somewhere. It was just her and Will Fontaine on the edge of the pool, the party going loud and bright and chaotic around them, Marcus launching another cannonball into the far end.\par +\par +"Will Fontaine," he said, and held out his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. "Lizzie Hayes."\par +\par +He had an easy, unguarded quality, like someone who hadn't yet learned to be self-conscious. "You actually read it?" he said. "Or Hannah's just doing the thing where she says people have things in common to make them talk?"\par +\par +"Hannah does that?"\par +\par +"Constantly." He said it without malice. "So?"\par +\par +"I've read it three times," Lizzie said. "And the Silmarillion twice, which I'm aware most people don't finish."\par +\par +Something in his expression shifted. Reorganized. "Okay," he said. "Okay, you actually read it."\par +\par +"Do you?"\par +\par +"I've read the trilogy four times and I have opinions about Tom Bombadil that most people find excessive."\par +\par +And there it was\u8212?that thing that happened occasionally, rare enough to be notable, where the unpromising situation inverted itself completely. Lizzie felt the tightness in her chest release a fraction.\par +\par +"Tom Bombadil," she said, "is the most interesting problem in the whole book and nobody talks about it seriously."\par +\par +He turned more fully toward her. "Nobody," he agreed, "because everyone gets stuck on whether he's a god or a nature spirit and misses the actual interesting part, which is that the Ring has absolutely no effect on him\u8212?"\par +\par +"\u8212?which means either he's outside the power structure that makes the Ring meaningful, or he simply doesn't desire anything the Ring could amplify\u8212?"\par +\par +"Exactly." He was animated now, water still running down his shoulder, the pool noise and the music from the sailboat and the accumulated roar of thirty-six teenagers reduced somehow to a middle distance. "Because Sauron's whole thesis is that everything wants. That every will can be captured. And Bombadil disproves that just by existing. He rescues the hobbits from Old Man Willow without ceremony, without drama. He just\u8212?does it. Like it's obvious."\par +\par +"Like it costs him nothing," Lizzie said, "because he has nothing to lose."\par +\par +"Or everything he has can't be taken." He looked at her with a directness that would have been uncomfortable if it hadn't been so clearly intellectual. "Does that mean he's the most powerful being in the story, or the least powerful? Like, the Ring is the whole axis of the story. If you're immune to it, are you even in the same story?"\par +\par +Lizzie had thought about this exact question before. She had written two pages about it in her journal and not arrived anywhere conclusive. She sat down on the pool coping, because this was going to take a minute, and he sat beside her, and somewhere behind them Marcus detonated another wall of water and a girl shrieked in protest and everyone laughed, and the sun went lower, and the music from the dock drifted over them, and the party went on being what it was. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aec087e --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,8 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} +{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} +{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 + +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Bobby Carpenter's father. Is an auto mechanic. Plays golf with Andy Hayes on the same Saturday outings as Bobby and Ella. Drinks a lot of beer during a round \'97 yet apparently still plays adequately nonetheless.\ +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/83837824-8453-4841-95FB-61848F7E35F5/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/83837824-8453-4841-95FB-61848F7E35F5/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bfa0b93 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/83837824-8453-4841-95FB-61848F7E35F5/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,153 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The patio behind the restaurant was in shade for another twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before the sun would clear the line of palms along the cart path and make sitting outside genuinely unpleasant. For now it was tolerable. A ceiling fan turned overhead without much conviction, and a mockingbird somewhere in the palms was cycling through its repertoire with the manic energy of something that had nowhere to be.\par +\par +Ella had a Sprite and a sleeve of Oreos she'd bought from the vending machine inside. Bobby had a Gatorade, orange, and a bag of pretzels. This was their standard intermission configuration, established over enough Saturday mornings that it had the quality of tradition.\par +\par +The scorecard was on the table between them, flattened under Ella's elbow. Two under each. Eighteen holes of trading the lead and giving it back and taking it again, neither of them pulling more than one hole clear at any point. It was the kind of round that was satisfying and infuriating in equal measure, and Ella had spent the last quarter mile of the walk back to the clubhouse turning over the par five on sixteen where she'd three-putted from twelve feet and handed him a push when she should have won the hole outright.\par +\par +"You want to talk about sixteen?" Bobby said.\par +\par +"I don't."\par +\par +"Because I'm happy to talk about sixteen."\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"I'm just saying, that second putt\u8212?"\par +\par +"If you finish that sentence I'm going to eat all of these Oreos and not give you any, and I was going to give you some."\par +\par +He leaned back in his chair and held up both hands. "Not another word about sixteen."\par +\par +She pushed three Oreos across the table. He took them without ceremony.\par +\par +They sat for a moment in the particular comfortable silence that was one of the things Ella actually valued about Bobby Carpenter\u8212?not many people she could be quiet with without it becoming awkward, but Bobby was one of them. He'd been her Saturday morning for three years now, through two swing coaches and a growth spurt and the whole evolving calculus of what she needed to become the golfer she intended to be. He'd seen her cry exactly once, after the district tournament junior year, and he had said nothing then either, which was exactly right.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon," he said.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon."\par +\par +"You know I'm going to birdie six, seven, and eight."\par +\par +"You've been threatening to birdie six, seven, and eight since February and you've done it exactly zero times."\par +\par +"Today's the day."\par +\par +"You say that about a lot of days."\par +\par +"I'm an optimist." He ate an Oreo in one piece, which Ella found obscurely irritating. "Whereas you are a pessimist who happens to play golf well enough that it looks like confidence."\par +\par +"That's the most wrong thing you've ever said, and you once told me I was gripping the club like I was trying to strangle a raccoon."\par +\par +"You were."\par +\par +"I was not."\par +\par +"Your knuckles were white, Ella."\par +\par +She drank her Sprite. The mockingbird had moved closer, or found a more ambitious portion of its repertoire. Somewhere inside, through the glass, she could see her father at the bar with Alex, two cold beers between them, deep in whatever conversation fathers had when their children were occupied. She had never fully understood how her father could drink two beers at the turn and then go out and shoot thirty-eight on the back nine with the same untroubled swing he'd had on the front. It didn't seem fair and it didn't seem physiologically consistent with what she'd learned in health class.\par +\par +Bobby was watching her watch her father.\par +\par +"He's fine," Bobby said.\par +\par +"I know he's fine. I've seen him drink a beer and make a forty-foot putt."\par +\par +"My dad's on his third."\par +\par +"Your dad is not fine."\par +\par +"My dad is going to birdie six anyway because he doesn't know enough about the hole to be scared of it." Bobby pulled his chair slightly forward and rested his elbows on the table. He had, Ella noticed with mild irritation, gotten significantly taller in the last year. He was now legitimately tall rather than just taller-than-average, which was part of what was doing things to his driving distance and creating new problems for her. "Hey, so. Ella."\par +\par +She recognized the tone. "No."\par +\par +"I haven't said anything."\par +\par +"You were about to."\par +\par +"I might have been about to say literally anything."\par +\par +"You were about to ask me to the movies or something and I'm telling you no in advance so we can skip the whole part where you ask and I say no and then you pretend you don't care."\par +\par +Bobby grinned. He had an aggravating grin, easy and undefeated, the grin of someone who had asked a question so many times that the answer had stopped landing. "Would you consider dinner instead of movies?"\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"Just dinner. There's that Italian place on Federal that you like."\par +\par +"I like the bread there. That's not the same as liking going to dinner."\par +\par +"You could go for the bread."\par +\par +"I'm not going to dinner with you."\par +\par +"What about just the bread then, strictly a bread-acquisition errand, no romantic implications\u8212?"\par +\par +"You are in the friend zone," Ella said. "You have been in the friend zone. The friend zone is, for you, a permanent and non-negotiable territory with clearly established borders. There is no diplomatic mission that gets you out of the friend zone."\par +\par +He didn't stop grinning. "I appreciate the clarity."\par +\par +"I don't know why you keep asking."\par +\par +"Because one day you're going to run out of metaphors for the friend zone and you'll have to say yes by default."\par +\par +"I have an unlimited supply of friend zone metaphors. I could do this all afternoon."\par +\par +"We have an hour."\par +\par +"I'm very efficient."\par +\par +He ate another Oreo, this one in two pieces, which felt like a concession of some kind. Outside the shade perimeter, the sun was doing serious work on the cart path, and the heat coming off the asphalt had a visible quality to it, a slight atmospheric distortion that made the distant palms look like they were breathing.\par +\par +"For the record," Bobby said, "I'm going to keep asking."\par +\par +"I know you are."\par +\par +"It's not a thing I'm going to stop doing."\par +\par +"I know that too."\par +\par +"Just wanted to be transparent about my intentions."\par +\par +"Your intentions are transparent. They've always been transparent. You're not exactly a complicated person, Bobby."\par +\par +"And yet here you are, spending your entire summer playing golf with me."\par +\par +"I spend my summer playing golf," Ella said. "You happen to be the best available opponent. Don't read into it."\par +\par +"It's going in my memory as reading into it."\par +\par +She didn't say anything to that. The fan turned. The mockingbird finished one cycle and started another. Her father laughed at something Alex said, the sound coming through the glass slightly muffled.\par +\par +At ten minutes to one, Ella stood, gathered her Sprite and the remaining Oreos, and nodded toward the clubhouse. "Let's go get the cart."\par +\par +The clubhouse was cool and dark inside after the patio, and the woman at the counter handed over the key without ceremony. Cart fourteen. Ella took the key before Bobby's hand was halfway across the counter.\par +\par +"I'm driving," she said.\par +\par +"You always drive."\par +\par +"Because you tried to put us in the water on eleven."\par +\par +"That was one time and the path curves."\par +\par +"The path has always curved. It curved the week before that and the week before that. The curve is not a new development." She pushed through the side door into the cart staging area, found fourteen, and swung into the driver's seat with the efficiency of someone claiming territory. Bobby came around the other side and got in.\par +\par +"You know," he said, "in certain cultures, letting the passenger drive occasionally is considered a mark of social maturity."\par +\par +"Good thing I don't live in those cultures."\par +\par +"I'm just noting that you have control issues."\par +\par +"I don't have control issues. I have correct-decision-making habits. These are different."\par +\par +He settled back against the seat and put his arm along the back of it, easy and comfortable, and she was aware of this peripherally and in a way that she filed immediately into the category of things she didn't examine. Bobby Carpenter was her Saturday morning. He was her best opponent and the person who'd seen her three-putt from twelve feet and not said anything devastating about it. He was funny and tall and an infuriating driver of golf carts, and none of that was relevant to anything.\par +\par +She started the cart.\par +\par +"Palms, hole one," she said.\par +\par +"Hole one," he agreed.\par +\par +The cart rolled forward out of the staging area and into the white blaze of the afternoon, and ahead of them the Palms course opened up wide and shimmering in the heat, soft and forgiving and ready to be argued over, hole by hole, for the rest of the day. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/89F6CDA0-8D79-4A1E-B602-0F362A21E8FF/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/89F6CDA0-8D79-4A1E-B602-0F362A21E8FF/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..45eb812 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/89F6CDA0-8D79-4A1E-B602-0F362A21E8FF/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,117 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Scene: Scene 8\par +Model: anthropic/claude-sonnet-4.6\par +Character UUIDs: DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1,DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092,BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3,F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C,091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE,FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95,332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241,75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD\par +Accepted for editing: 2026-08-23T20:26:11-05:00\par +\par +### STYLE\par +The style of the novel is in the style but not substance of Ken Follett. Each scene is in third person from the perspective of one of the characters.\par +\par +### LEXICON\par +(none)\par +\par +### STORY\par +Elikapeka Hayes, alone with daughters Emma and Lizzie after Andy and Ella leave, grants Emma a Friday-evening backyard pool party capped at twenty-five guests and permits boys, but refuses to exclude any family cousins and deflects Emma's pointed accusation of racial bias in the guest-list vetting process\u8212?asserting she will review all names and decide who is welcome\u8212?leaving Emma's challenge to her mother's social prejudices unresolved and filed away for a later attempt.\par +\par +From her parents' bedroom, Emma phones Susanna, Mai Lin, and Hannah in succession to build a vetted boy-invitation list that reaches fifteen names\u8212?adding Nate Oliveira, eliminating Chris DeLuca for calling Mai Lin and Emma interchangeable, and flagging Ryan from the swim team for confirmation\u8212?before calculating that her mother's mandate to include all three boy cousins (Devin, Tyler, and cannonball-prone Marcus) will disrupt her intended gender balance of fifteen boys to ten girls, leaving her without a workable counter-argument to raise the guest cap and only the unresolved notation "cousins don't count\u8212?separate category" starred on her notepad.\par +\par +### CHARACTERS\par +Andy Hayes\par +Father and husband. Manages the team at American Airlines out of the Fort Lauderdale Airport that services its jets. Is a union member with nearly 30 years of experience. Scratch golfer. Large extended family, two brothers and a sister live nearby. Tall and handsome and very attractive to women in general. A leader of men.\par +Plays golf on Saturday mornings with Ella and Bobby, paired with Alex Carpenter. Drinks two beers and continues to swing with the same untroubled tempo that Ella has noticed and finds both unfair and impressive.\par +\par +Elikapeka Hayes\par +Wife of Andy Hayes, of Hawaiian origin. Stay at home mom. (eh-lee-la-PEH-ka)\par +\par +Has a calm, unhurried quality she brings to every task. Used to be an avid reader as a girl \u8212? her own mother had to hide books from her. Makes parenting decisions with quiet firmness, neither unkind nor moveable.\par +\par +Ella Hayes\par +Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\u8217?s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.\par +Has been playing Saturday morning golf with Bobby Carpenter for three years.\par +\par +Emma Hayes\par +Middle daughter. To be a high school junior. Social butterfly with dozens of friends. She\u8217?s the unacknowledged highest status girl in her class. In her mother\u8217?s words, the sun around which the other girls orbit.\par +Orchestrates social events with systematic, general-like deliberateness \u8212? working the phone in sequence, vetting names against multiple trusted sources before committing.\par +\par +Elizabeth (Lizzie) Hayes\par +Youngest daughter. To be a high school freshman. Bookish girl, very pretty, shy. She has three close friends, all of which are bookworms like herself.\par +Reads at a college level per her English teacher Mrs. Patterson. Aspires to write fantasy fiction in the tradition of Tolkien and McCaffrey. Moves through tasks with focused, urgent efficiency when a book is waiting. Tends to process frustration quietly and internally rather than acting out \u8212? explicitly contrasted with Emma's more reactive temperament.\par +\par +Bobby Carpenter\par +Best golfer on the boy\u8217?s high school team and Ella\u8217?s perpetual weekend playing and practice partner. Forever in Ella\u8217?s friend zone.\par +Has been Ella's Saturday morning golf partner for three years. Has grown significantly taller in the past year \u8212? now legitimately tall \u8212? which has increased his driving distance and created new competitive problems for Ella.\par +\par +Mai Lin Wen\par +Emma\u8217?s best friend and always up for lounging in the pool at Emma\u8217?s house. Born in America of Chinese immigrants. Beautiful and outgoing, wears the same dress size as Emma. Best friends with Emma since 2nd grade. Serves the secondary role as Emma\u8217?s enforcer in the gang of fashionable girls who orbit around Emma.\par +Often sleeps over at Emma\u8217?s house or Emma at hers.\par +\par +Alex Carpenter\par +Bobby Carpenter's father. Is an auto mechanic. Plays golf with Andy Hayes on the same Saturday outings as Bobby and Ella. Drinks a lot of beer during a round \u8212? yet apparently still plays adequately nonetheless.\par +\par +### RECALL\par +(none)\par +\par +### PREVIOUS\par +She worked through the rest of her list of girls, methodically, a conversation here and a conversation there, the names accumulating on the notepad in her lap. Some boys she added. Some she declined before they were fully nominated. One she wrote down and then stared at for a long moment before drawing a slow, deliberate line through his name, for reasons she didn't articulate out loud because she was alone.\par +\par +Finally, she sat back against the headboard and counted.\par +\par +Fifteen.\par +\par +Fifteen boys, all thoroughly vetted, all approved by at least two people she trusted to have opinions worth consulting. It was a good list. It was an excellent list. She looked at it with the satisfaction of a general surveying a well-positioned army.\par +\par +And then she thought about Devin.\par +\par +And Tyler.\par +\par +And the others.\par +\par +Her mother's voice came back to her with pristine clarity: *Every last one of them.*\par +\par +Emma looked at her list.\par +\par +Fifteen boys.\par +\par +Twenty-five guests total. Which meant ten girls, herself included\u8212?and she'd already been composing that list in her head separately, so she knew exactly who those ten were. It was wrong. The number of boys and girls needed to balance. She needed her mother to agree to thirty attendees, to properly balance the sexes.\par +\par +She counted her cousins.\par +\par +There were three boy cousins who would plausibly be invited by her mother's standard of *every last one of them*. Devin, who was fine, she supposed, in the way that a piece of furniture is fine. Tyler, who Lizzie apparently thought she knew, which was hilarious and also somehow annoying. And Marcus, who was fourteen and had gone through a phase last summer of doing cannonballs directly next to whoever was floating quietly in the pool, which was not something Emma was prepared to tolerate at her own birthday party.\par +\par +Three cousins.\par +\par +Three boys who would have to come off this list.\par +\par +She looked at her fifteen names.\par +\par +She looked at them for a long moment.\par +\par +Then she said something under her breath that she would not have said in front of her mother, picked up the phone again, and started to think very carefully about which argument would work.\par +\par +Not the fairness argument. Her mother was impervious to fairness arguments.\par +\par +Not the numbers argument. Her mother would simply raise the cap, or suggest she invite fewer girls.\par +\par +No. She needed something her mother couldn't easily dismiss. Something that reframed the question. She didn't have it yet.\par +\par +She wrote *cousins don't count\u8212?separate category* on the corner of the notepad and starred it three times.\par +\par +She'd figure it out. She had time.\par +\par +### NOTES\par +Hayes house \u8212? The Hayes family lives in a two story house built in the 1960s on a deep water canal (meaning, the canal can be used for boats going out to the Atlantic ocean). The house has a boat dock, rented out to a friend who has a fifty foot sailboat. The house has a small pool in the backyard which is often used by the family for gatherings.\par +Mid June, 2000. Late afternoon.\par +\par +### BRIEF\par +This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Elikapeka Hayes.\par +It was done. The prep for Emma\u8217?s sweet sixteen birthday party was complete. Elikapeka stood in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Susan Carpenter, mother of Ella\u8217?s golf partner Bobby, had volunteered to help with the party, was outside talking with the caterers, setting tables on the patio for the thirty-six kids who were expected to begin arriving in a half hour. Emma\u8217?s request for fifteen boys and fifteen girls had been granted, three of her boy cousins added, and then an extra three girls more to balance the sexes. It was the largest party she\u8217?d ever thrown. Ella came in, wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, along with her friend Bobby, whom she\u8217?d invited but wasn\u8217?t on the guest list. Ella had been drafted as the greeter and she\u8217?d wanted help, thus his presence. Ella was something of a loner who had more guy friends than girl friends and she\u8217?d talked him into helping.\par +Her husband and his friend Alex were on the sailboat docked behind the house with the boat\u8217?s owner Jim, setting up the boat\u8217?s sound system for the party. Emma had provided CDs and a playlist. Music started to play. The men were already drinking beers.\par +The doorbell rang and Ella answered it. It was Andy\u8217?s sister, Michelle, with the three boy cousins, one her son and the other two the sons of Andy\u8217?s brothers. The girl cousins were all much younger and they\u8217?d decided that they would not attend. Emma came into the kitchen with her friend Mai Lin, both wearing a pretty coveralls over their swimsuits. The bikini that Emma had under her coverall Elikapeka thought too skimpy, but she\u8217?d been overridden by her husband, saying that\u8217?s what the girls were wearing now and she need to chill about it. Emma greeted her cousins and directed them outside to the pool. The boys wore only swimsuits, tee shirts, and flip flops and were in the pool within seconds of doffing the tee shirts and flip flops. They found a Nerf football from somewhere and began throwing it around.\par +It was going to be chaos.\par +\par +### DIRECTIVE\par +Expand to a maximum of 1500 words. Keep it chaotic and fun.\par +\par +### SCENE\par + +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8A0E75E6-1B75-42F3-982B-A8B02F762BB4/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8A0E75E6-1B75-42F3-982B-A8B02F762BB4/content.rtf index 3a345df..ccaac43 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8A0E75E6-1B75-42F3-982B-A8B02F762BB4/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8A0E75E6-1B75-42F3-982B-A8B02F762BB4/content.rtf @@ -1,14 +1,7 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2868 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} -{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} -{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 - -\f0\fs26 \cf0 This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Elikapeka Hayes.\ -It was done. The prep for Emma\'92s sweet sixteen birthday party was complete. Elikapeka stood in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Susan Carpenter, mother of Ella\'92s golf partner Bobby, had volunteered to help with the party, was outside talking with the caterers, setting tables on the patio for the thirty-six kids who were expected to begin arriving in a half hour. Emma\'92s request for fifteen boys and fifteen girls had been granted, three of her boy cousins added, and then an extra three girls more to balance the sexes. It was the largest party she\'92d ever thrown. Ella came in, wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, along with her friend Bobby, whom she\'92d invited but wasn\'92t on the guest list. Ella had been drafted as the greeter and she\'92d wanted help, thus his presence. Ella was something of a loner who had more guy friends than girl friends and she\'92d talked him into helping.\ -Her husband and his friend Alex were on the sailboat docked behind the house with the boat\'92s owner Jim, setting up the boat\'92s sound system for the party. Emma had provided CDs and a playlist. Music started to play. The men were already drinking beers.\ -The doorbell rang and Ella answered it. It was Andy\'92s sister, Michelle, with the three boy cousins, one her son and the other two the sons of Andy\'92s brothers. The girl cousins were all much younger and they\'92d decided that they would not attend. Emma came into the kitchen with her friend Mai Lin, both wearing a pretty coveralls over their swimsuits. The bikini that Emma had under her coverall Elikapeka thought too skimpy, but she\'92d been overridden by her husband, saying that\'92s what the girls were wearing now and she need to chill about it. Emma greeted her cousins and directed them outside to the pool. The boys wore only swimsuits, tee shirts, and flip flops and were in the pool within seconds of doffing the tee shirts and flip flops. They found a Nerf football from somewhere and began throwing it around.\ -It was going to be chaos.\ -Expand to a maximum of 1500 words.\ -\ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Elikapeka Hayes.\par +It was done. The prep for Emma\u8217?s sweet sixteen birthday party was complete. Elikapeka stood in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Susan Carpenter, mother of Ella\u8217?s golf partner Bobby, had volunteered to help with the party, was outside talking with the caterers, setting tables on the patio for the thirty-six kids who were expected to begin arriving in a half hour. Emma\u8217?s request for fifteen boys and fifteen girls had been granted, three of her boy cousins added, and then an extra three girls more to balance the sexes. It was the largest party she\u8217?d ever thrown. Ella came in, wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, along with her friend Bobby, whom she\u8217?d invited but wasn\u8217?t on the guest list. Ella had been drafted as the greeter and she\u8217?d wanted help, thus his presence. Ella was something of a loner who had more guy friends than girl friends and she\u8217?d talked him into helping.\par +Her husband and his friend Alex were on the sailboat docked behind the house with the boat\u8217?s owner Jim, setting up the boat\u8217?s sound system for the party. Emma had provided CDs and a playlist. Music started to play. The men were already drinking beers.\par +The doorbell rang and Ella answered it. It was Andy\u8217?s sister, Michelle, with the three boy cousins, one her son and the other two the sons of Andy\u8217?s brothers. The girl cousins were all much younger and they\u8217?d decided that they would not attend. Emma came into the kitchen with her friend Mai Lin, both wearing a pretty coveralls over their swimsuits. The bikini that Emma had under her coverall Elikapeka thought too skimpy, but she\u8217?d been overridden by her husband, saying that\u8217?s what the girls were wearing now and she need to chill about it. Emma greeted her cousins and directed them outside to the pool. The boys wore only swimsuits, tee shirts, and flip flops and were in the pool within seconds of doffing the tee shirts and flip flops. They found a Nerf football from somewhere and began throwing it around.\par +It was going to be chaos. } \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8D7B879B-BE92-4743-9894-586435A29CBD/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8D7B879B-BE92-4743-9894-586435A29CBD/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29f573e --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8D7B879B-BE92-4743-9894-586435A29CBD/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,153 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The patio behind the restaurant was in shade for another twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before the sun would clear the line of palms along the cart path and make sitting outside genuinely unpleasant. For now it was tolerable. A ceiling fan turned overhead without much conviction, and a mockingbird somewhere in the palms was cycling through its repertoire with the manic energy of something that had nowhere to be.\par +\par +Ella had a Sprite and a sleeve of Oreos she'd bought from the vending machine inside. Bobby had a Gatorade, orange, and a bag of pretzels. This was their standard intermission configuration, established over enough Saturday mornings that it had the quality of tradition.\par +\par +The scorecard was on the table between them, flattened under Ella's elbow. Two under each. Eighteen holes of trading the lead and giving it back and taking it again, neither of them pulling more than one hole clear at any point. It was the kind of round that was satisfying and infuriating in equal measure, and Ella had spent the last quarter mile of the walk back to the clubhouse turning over the par five on sixteen where she'd three-putted from twelve feet and handed him a push when she should have won the hole outright.\par +\par +"You want to talk about sixteen?" Bobby said.\par +\par +"I don't."\par +\par +"Because I'm happy to talk about sixteen."\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"I'm just saying, that second putt\u8212?"\par +\par +"If you finish that sentence I'm going to eat all of these Oreos and not give you any, and I was going to give you some."\par +\par +He leaned back in his chair and held up both hands. "Not another word about sixteen."\par +\par +She pushed three Oreos across the table. He took them without ceremony.\par +\par +They sat for a moment in the particular comfortable silence that was one of the things Ella actually valued about Bobby Carpenter\u8212?not many people she could be quiet with without it becoming awkward, but Bobby was one of them. He'd been her Saturday morning for three years now, through two swing coaches and a growth spurt and the whole evolving calculus of what she needed to become the golfer she intended to be. He'd seen her cry exactly once, after the district tournament junior year, and he had said nothing then either, which was exactly right.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon," he said.\par +\par +"Palms this afternoon."\par +\par +"You know I'm going to birdie six, seven, and eight."\par +\par +"You've been threatening to birdie six, seven, and eight since February and you've done it exactly zero times."\par +\par +"Today's the day."\par +\par +"You say that about a lot of days."\par +\par +"I'm an optimist." He ate an Oreo in one piece, which Ella found obscurely irritating. "Whereas you are a pessimist who happens to play golf well enough that it looks like confidence."\par +\par +"That's the most wrong thing you've ever said, and you once told me I was gripping the club like I was trying to strangle a raccoon."\par +\par +"You were."\par +\par +"I was not."\par +\par +"Your knuckles were white, Ella."\par +\par +She drank her Sprite. The mockingbird had moved closer, or found a more ambitious portion of its repertoire. Somewhere inside, through the glass, she could see her father at the bar with Alex, two cold beers between them, deep in whatever conversation fathers had when their children were occupied. She had never fully understood how her father could drink two beers at the turn and then go out and shoot thirty-eight on the back nine with the same untroubled swing he'd had on the front. It didn't seem fair and it didn't seem physiologically consistent with what she'd learned in health class.\par +\par +Bobby was watching her watch her father.\par +\par +"He's fine," Bobby said.\par +\par +"I know he's fine. I've seen him chug a beer and make a forty-foot putt."\par +\par +"My dad's on his third."\par +\par +"Your dad is not fine."\par +\par +"My dad is going to birdie six anyway because he doesn't know enough about the hole to be scared of it." Bobby pulled his chair slightly forward and rested his elbows on the table. He had, Ella noticed with mild irritation, gotten significantly taller in the last year. He was now legitimately tall rather than just taller-than-average, which was part of what was doing things to his driving distance and creating new problems for her. "Hey, so. Ella."\par +\par +She recognized the tone. "No."\par +\par +"I haven't said anything."\par +\par +"You were about to."\par +\par +"I might have been about to say literally anything."\par +\par +"You were about to ask me to the movies or something and I'm telling you no in advance so we can skip the whole part where you ask and I say no and then you pretend you don't care."\par +\par +Bobby grinned. He had an aggravating grin, easy and undefeated, the grin of someone who had asked a question so many times that the answer had stopped landing. "Would you consider dinner instead of movies?"\par +\par +"Bobby."\par +\par +"Just dinner. There's that Italian place in Sunrise that you like."\par +\par +"I like the bread there. The bread is the absolute best. That's not the same as liking going to dinner. With you."\par +\par +"You could go for the bread."\par +\par +"I'm not going to dinner with you."\par +\par +"What about just the bread then, strictly a bread-acquisition errand, no romantic implications\u8212?"\par +\par +"You are in the friend zone," Ella said. "You have been in the friend zone. The friend zone is, for you, a permanent and non-negotiable territory with clearly established borders. There is no diplomatic mission that gets you out of the friend zone."\par +\par +He didn't stop grinning. "I appreciate the clarity."\par +\par +"I don't know why you keep asking."\par +\par +"Because one day you're going to run out of metaphors for the friend zone and you'll have to say yes by default."\par +\par +"I have an unlimited supply of friend zone metaphors. I could do this all afternoon."\par +\par +"We have an hour."\par +\par +"I'm very efficient."\par +\par +He ate another Oreo, this one in two pieces, which felt like a concession of some kind. Outside the shade perimeter, the sun was doing serious work on the cart path, and the heat coming off the asphalt had a visible quality to it, a slight atmospheric distortion that made the distant palms look like they were breathing.\par +\par +"For the record," Bobby said, "I'm going to keep asking."\par +\par +"I know you are."\par +\par +"It's not a thing I'm going to stop doing."\par +\par +"I know that too."\par +\par +"Just wanted to be transparent about my intentions."\par +\par +"Your intentions are transparent. They've always been transparent. You're not exactly a complicated person, Bobby."\par +\par +"And yet here you are, spending your entire summer playing golf with me."\par +\par +"I always spend my summers playing golf," Ella said. "You happen to be the best available opponent. Don't read into it more than that."\par +\par +"It's going in my memory as reading into it."\par +\par +She didn't say anything to that. The fan turned. The mockingbird finished one cycle and started another. Her father laughed at something Alex said, the sound coming through the glass slightly muffled.\par +\par +At ten minutes to noon, Ella stood, gathered her Sprite and the remaining Oreos, and nodded toward the clubhouse. "Let's go get the cart."\par +\par +The clubhouse was cool and dark inside after the patio, and the woman at the counter handed over the key without ceremony. Cart fourteen. Ella took the key before Bobby's hand was halfway across the counter.\par +\par +"I'm driving," she said.\par +\par +"You always drive."\par +\par +"Because you tried to put us in the water on eleven."\par +\par +"That was one time and the path curves."\par +\par +"The path has always curved. It curved the week before that and the week before that. The curve is not a new development." She pushed through the side door into the cart barn, found fourteen, and swung into the driver's seat with the efficiency of someone claiming territory. Bobby came around the other side and got in.\par +\par +"You know," he said, "in certain cultures, letting the passenger drive occasionally is considered a mark of social maturity."\par +\par +"Good thing I don't live in those cultures."\par +\par +"I'm just noting that you have control issues."\par +\par +"I don't have control issues. I have correct-decision-making habits. These are different."\par +\par +He settled back against the seat and put his arm along the back of it, easy and comfortable, and she was aware of this peripherally and in a way that she filed immediately into the category of things she didn't examine. Bobby Carpenter was her Saturday morning. He was her best opponent and the person who'd seen her three-putt from twelve feet and not said anything devastating about it. He was funny and tall and an infuriating driver of golf carts, and none of that was relevant to anything.\par +\par +She started the cart.\par +\par +"Palms, hole one," she said.\par +\par +"Hole one," he agreed.\par +\par +The cart rolled forward out of the staging area and into the white blaze of the afternoon, and ahead of them the Palms course opened up wide and shimmering in the heat, soft and forgiving and ready to be argued over, hole by hole, for the rest of the day. As she drove off, she saw her father and Bobby's father come out and walk towards the cart barn. It was time to play golf. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8DC30894-E931-49F0-B0CB-914A727AFF3F/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8DC30894-E931-49F0-B0CB-914A727AFF3F/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8aba71 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/8DC30894-E931-49F0-B0CB-914A727AFF3F/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,99 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The seventeenth hole had given Andy a moment of hope for her, which was the cruelest thing a golf course could do.\par +\par +He'd watched her striped six-iron from the fairway settle four feet from the pin, watched her read the putt with the focused economy of motion he'd spent years teaching her, and watched the ball fall dead center into the cup. She'd allowed herself one tight nod\u8212?not a fist pump, not a word\u8212?and picked up her bag and walked to the eighteenth tee with the bearing of someone who had not yet lost anything. That was his daughter. That was three years of Saturday mornings made visible.\par +\par +One shot back, needing a birdie. Playing the eighteenth on the Palms course, which was not the Palms course's idea of a good time for anyone.\par +\par +Andy hung back near the cart path with Alex while the kids played up ahead. Alex had cracked his third beer of the back nine and offered one across with a sociable tilt of the can. Andy shook his head. He'd finished his second on sixteen and he was done. He needed to watch this clearly.\par +\par +"She's going to be fine," Alex said.\par +\par +"I know."\par +\par +"She's right back in it."\par +\par +"I know she is."\par +\par +Alex looked at him. "You're not actually worried about the match."\par +\par +"I'm not worried about anything."\par +\par +"You've got that face."\par +\par +Andy didn't answer because Alex wasn't entirely wrong and because there wasn't anything useful to say about it. He'd been watching Ella golf since she was nine years old gripping a cut-down seven-iron on the driving range, and he could read her like a stock chart. The back nine today had been uneven in a way that had nothing to do with her swing. Her swing was fine. Her swing was always fine. It was the thing behind the swing that had been slightly out of adjustment, the internal temperature she usually managed without thinking about it. She'd been managing it today, but only just.\par +\par +He knew what that kind of management cost.\par +\par +Bobby had played beautifully all afternoon. The kid had grown into something this year\u8212?not just the height, though that was part of it, the extra leverage translating directly into yards that Ella no longer had a comfortable cushion against. It was also just the general settling of him, the way he moved through a round without the peaks and valleys that defined most high school golfers, without the miniature crises over a bad bounce or an unlucky kick. He had his father's ease on a golf course, if not Alex's liquid assistance in achieving it. Bobby played like someone who expected to be there.\par +\par +Ella played like someone who intended to win, which was a different thing entirely, and usually it was the difference that made her the best player on any course she stepped onto. Today it had been working against her in small, compounding ways.\par +\par +Sixteen had been the disaster.\par +\par +Andy had seen it coming from the moment she'd pulled the wrong club on her second shot\u8212?he'd seen it and said nothing because there was nothing to say, she didn't want help and wouldn't have taken it, and part of learning to be a golfer was making your own mistakes in your own time. The penalty had been two shots she couldn't fully recover from, and he'd watched her absorb them with a controlled anger that was visible only if you knew what you were looking at. A tightening around the jaw. The way she replaced the divot with slightly too much force.\par +\par +Now Bobby was standing on the eighteenth green waiting with a ball two feet from the pin and a birdie as inevitable as weather.\par +\par +Ella was in the bunker.\par +\par +Andy walked up to the edge of the green and stopped. Alex came alongside him. Neither of them spoke.\par +\par +He could see the lie from where he stood and he felt it in his stomach before his mind had fully processed it\u8212?the ball settled down into the sand at an angle that meant the back edge of the bunker's lip had gotten involved, burying it into a small depression that a pro golfer would curse quietly and privately before playing for nothing more than a clean exit. Any lie in a bunker was manageable. A buried lie in a bunker, with the pin thirty feet away and the match on it, was a different conversation.\par +\par +Ella stood at the edge looking down at it.\par +\par +He could see her temper from forty feet away. Not in any obvious gesture\u8212?she wasn't the kind of girl who wore it openly. It was in the stillness of her, the way she went very quiet in the way that preceded something precise and controlled and likely insufficient. She was doing the math the same way he was doing the math, and she was arriving at the same answer, and she was refusing to accept it on principle.\par +\par +That was his daughter too.\par +\par +She stepped down into the bunker. Addressed the ball with her sand wedge. Took her stance, adjusted it slightly, took it again. He watched her set her jaw.\par +\par +Bobby had drifted to the far side of the green to stay out of her sightline, which was a considerate piece of golf etiquette and probably also self-preservation. The kid understood her better than most.\par +\par +She swung.\par +\par +It was a full, committed swing\u8212?no half measures, no protective caution\u8212?and the sand exploded upward in a white burst that caught the afternoon light and hung for a moment before dispersing. The ball came up high and clean out of it, which was the part that gave Andy one half second of irrational hope, the ball up in the air and possible, everything possible while it was in the air\u8212?\par +\par +It hit the green eight feet past the hole and rolled.\par +\par +He watched it. Everyone watched it. The break was left to right and it ran with the break, slowing, slowing, and stopped three feet beyond the cup.\par +\par +Not in.\par +\par +The sand had barely settled in the bunker before Ella was climbing out of it, rake in hand. She raked the sand with the clipped, efficient movements of someone who has moved past the event and does not intend to discuss it. She walked up onto the green and looked at Bobby, who was already extending his hand.\par +\par +She shook it. One clean shake.\par +\par +"Good round," she said. Her voice was entirely level.\par +\par +"You too," Bobby said. He was keeping his face straight with visible effort.\par +\par +She conceded his putt with a nod that didn't require words, and then she looked at her own ball for a moment and did the thing that Andy had watched her do before\u8212?the thing that was entirely Ella and that he had never quite managed to talk her out of\u8212?she stepped to the edge of the green where it dropped away toward the small decorative pond that ran along the cart path, drew her foot back, and kicked the ball cleanly off the green and into the water with a small, satisfying splash.\par +\par +She didn't watch it land. She was already walking.\par +\par +Bobby let her go. Andy caught his eye briefly and Bobby shrugged, one shoulder, with the half-grin of a kid who had earned something rare and wasn't going to waste it on commentary. He was right to let her walk. Andy had raised her and he would have let her walk too.\par +\par +He and Alex fell in behind her at a reasonable distance.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Andy said.\par +\par +"Your kid played well today," Alex said. "Bobby just played slightly better, specifically on sixteen."\par +\par +"Let's not quantify it."\par +\par +"Fair enough."\par +\par +They walked in comfortable silence back toward the cart barn. The afternoon was long and hot and the shadows were beginning to stretch across the fairways in the way they did in late May when the day had given everything it had and was finally starting to let go. Ahead of them, Ella's back was straight and her stride was fast and she was not looking at anything except where she was going.\par +\par +In the truck, Andy gave her the silence she needed. He merged onto Federal Highway heading north and let the air conditioning run and watched the road and said nothing. She sat with her arm along the window ledge and her jaw still set and her eyes on the landscape going past.\par +\par +She knew the numbers as well as he did. Every player on tour, every professional who'd ever put a ball in the air for a living, won less than a quarter of the time they entered. The best players in the world lost three tournaments for every one they won. She knew this. He'd told her and she'd understood it and filed it away and it made not one bit of difference to her when she was the one doing the losing.\par +\par +Every time. Every single time, it hit her exactly like the first time.\par +\par +He didn't think this was something he needed to fix. He thought it might be what made her good.\par +\par +He drove. The radio was off. She stared out the window and let the miles do the work that miles were for, and eventually her jaw unclenched by a small degree, and he saw it, and said nothing about that either. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/92652E2C-AD92-4CB6-B8E3-C3F7E458926A/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/92652E2C-AD92-4CB6-B8E3-C3F7E458926A/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd2444c --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/92652E2C-AD92-4CB6-B8E3-C3F7E458926A/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,95 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Scene: Scene 7\par +Model: anthropic/claude-sonnet-4.6\par +Character UUIDs: DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1,BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3,FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95,75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD\par +Accepted for editing: 2026-08-23T19:19:10-05:00\par +\par +### STYLE\par +The style of the novel is in the style but not substance of Ken Follett. Each scene is in third person from the perspective of one of the characters.\par +\par +### LEXICON\par +(none)\par +\par +### STORY\par +Scene 5\par +Ella and Bobby, evenly matched after an 18-hole morning round with a tradition of Oreos and Gatorade, share a comfortable silence on the shaded patio while Bobby makes his routine, gently deflected romantic overture\u8212?met again with Ella's firm but unexamined "friend zone" declaration\u8212?before she claims the cart keys and drives them out to the Palms course for the afternoon round, with both fathers emerging behind them, as Ella privately registers but refuses to inspect her awareness of Bobby's easy physical presence.\par +\par +### CHARACTERS\par +Andy Hayes\par +Father and husband. Manages the team at American Airlines out of the Fort Lauderdale Airport that services its jets. Is a union member with nearly 30 years of experience. Scratch golfer. Large extended family, two brothers and a sister live nearby. Tall and handsome and very attractive to women in general. A leader of men.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 5:\par +Plays golf on Saturday mornings with Ella and Bobby, paired with Alex Carpenter. Drinks two beers and continues to swing with the same untroubled tempo that Ella has noticed and finds both unfair and impressive.\par +\par +Ella Hayes\par +Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\u8217?s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 5:\par +Has been playing Saturday morning golf with Bobby Carpenter for three years.\par +\par +Bobby Carpenter\par +Best golfer on the boy\u8217?s high school team and Ella\u8217?s perpetual weekend playing and practice partner. Forever in Ella\u8217?s friend zone.\par +\par +Continuity update from Scene 5:\par +Has been Ella's Saturday morning golf partner for three years. Has grown significantly taller in the past year \u8212? now legitimately tall \u8212? which has increased his driving distance and created new competitive problems for Ella.\par +\par +Alex Carpenter\par +Continuity update from Scene 5:\par +Bobby Carpenter's father. Plays golf with Andy Hayes on the same Saturday outings as Bobby and Ella. Drinks a lot of beer during a round \u8212? yet apparently still plays adequately nonetheless.\par +\par +### RECALL\par +(none)\par +\par +### PREVIOUS\par +"It's going in my memory as reading into it."\par +\par +She didn't say anything to that. The fan turned. The mockingbird finished one cycle and started another. Her father laughed at something Alex said, the sound coming through the glass slightly muffled.\par +\par +At ten minutes to noon, Ella stood, gathered her Sprite and the remaining Oreos, and nodded toward the clubhouse. "Let's go get the cart."\par +\par +The clubhouse was cool and dark inside after the patio, and the woman at the counter handed over the key without ceremony. Cart fourteen. Ella took the key before Bobby's hand was halfway across the counter.\par +\par +"I'm driving," she said.\par +\par +"You always drive."\par +\par +"Because you tried to put us in the water on eleven."\par +\par +"That was one time and the path curves."\par +\par +"The path has always curved. It curved the week before that and the week before that. The curve is not a new development." She pushed through the side door into the cart barn, found fourteen, and swung into the driver's seat with the efficiency of someone claiming territory. Bobby came around the other side and got in.\par +\par +"You know," he said, "in certain cultures, letting the passenger drive occasionally is considered a mark of social maturity."\par +\par +"Good thing I don't live in those cultures."\par +\par +"I'm just noting that you have control issues."\par +\par +"I don't have control issues. I have correct-decision-making habits. These are different."\par +\par +He settled back against the seat and put his arm along the back of it, easy and comfortable, and she was aware of this peripherally and in a way that she filed immediately into the category of things she didn't examine. Bobby Carpenter was her Saturday morning. He was her best opponent and the person who'd seen her three-putt from twelve feet and not said anything devastating about it. He was funny and tall and an infuriating driver of golf carts, and none of that was relevant to anything.\par +\par +She started the cart.\par +\par +"Palms, hole one," she said.\par +\par +"Hole one," he agreed.\par +\par +The cart rolled forward out of the staging area and into the white blaze of the afternoon, and ahead of them the Palms course opened up wide and shimmering in the heat, soft and forgiving and ready to be argued over, hole by hole, for the rest of the day. As she drove off, she saw her father and Bobby's father come out and walk towards the cart barn. It was time to play golf.\par +\par +### NOTES\par +Pompano Beach Golf Course \u8212? A frequently played course with Andy and Ella. Two eighteen hole courses, the shorter and easier Palms course and the longer and harder Pines course.\par +Late Saturday afternoon, late May 2000, on the golf course.\par +\par +### BRIEF\par +This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Andy Hayes.\par +Andy could see Ella had her temper barely under control as she stepped into the bunker with a bad lie and a difficult shot that she had to hole to tie with Bobby in their grudge match after the first round of the day ended a tie. Ella had struggled on the back nine of the Pines course but nevertheless had kept it even until a disastrous double bogey on the sixteenth. She\u8217?d picked up a shot on the seventeenth, but her shot to the green on eighteen had buried in the soft sand, whereas Bobby had hit a perfect iron to about two feet and was eagerly waiting to tap in the putt for birdie and win the match. From her lie, a pro golfer would be happy just to get the ball on the green, but she had to hole it or lose the match. She went into the bunker, sneered at the ugly lie of her nearly buried ball, and took a mighty swing with her sand wedge. The ball popped high into the air, the sand nearly blinding her, and the ball rolled past the hole and the match was lost.\par +She angrily raked the sand and went up on the green and shook Bobby\u8217?s outstretched hand, conceding his putt, kicking her ball into the pond, turned and stalked off the green. Bobby knew she was furious and let her go without any trash talking. He couldn\u8217?t help grinning, though. It wasn\u8217?t often that he\u8217?d beaten her; she was by far the best player on the high school team, man or woman. She was good enough, he thought, to go pro, once she\u8217?d had a few seasons in college to polish her game.\par +In the truck on the way home, Andy let her fume. She knew, as well as he did, that even the best golfers in the world won fewer than one-fourth of their tournaments. But it always made her angry to lose, every darn time.\par +\par +### DIRECTIVE\par +Expand to 1500 words maximum. Keep it dramatic.\par +\par +### SCENE\par + +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/AF59937F-C51B-405C-8194-DD31607B6CC3/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/AF59937F-C51B-405C-8194-DD31607B6CC3/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..523695f --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/AF59937F-C51B-405C-8194-DD31607B6CC3/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 From Elikapeka's viewpoint at her kitchen counter, the party achieves critical mass as the Hayes cousins (Devin, 16; Tyler, 15; Marcus, 14), Bobby Carpenter, Emma's best friend Mai Lin, and a stream of girls arrive in quick succession, the men remain on Jim's sailboat with cold beers and a working sound system, Susan Carpenter manages the catered tables outside, Michelle Hayes moves through the kitchen with established familiarity, and Elikapeka ends the scene in a state of controlled acceptance\u8212?folding discarded tee shirts, drinking cold coffee, and privately claiming the cheerful chaos as her own\u8212?with thirty-six children now mostly arrived but the full arc of the evening still unresolved. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B1DB0E87-5D55-4489-89BB-DC91F3AD0FD2/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B1DB0E87-5D55-4489-89BB-DC91F3AD0FD2/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6526adf --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B1DB0E87-5D55-4489-89BB-DC91F3AD0FD2/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Ella and Bobby, evenly matched after an 18-hole morning round with a tradition of Oreos and Gatorade, share a comfortable silence on the shaded patio while Bobby makes his routine, gently deflected romantic overture\u8212?met again with Ella's firm but unexamined "friend zone" declaration\u8212?before she claims the cart keys and drives them out to the Palms course for the afternoon round, with both fathers emerging behind them, as Ella privately registers but refuses to inspect her awareness of Bobby's easy physical presence. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B6B0C071-1DC9-420C-9D06-FB3E362B75DA/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B6B0C071-1DC9-420C-9D06-FB3E362B75DA/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1611977 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B6B0C071-1DC9-420C-9D06-FB3E362B75DA/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 At Emma's backyard party, Lizzie\u8212?a reluctant attendee who would have preferred solitude and a Le Guin novel\u8212?is steered by Hannah into an unplanned introduction to Will Fontaine, Bobby's blond, blue-eyed friend, and experiences her first visceral, disorienting attraction; the encounter immediately transforms when shared Tolkien obsession produces genuine intellectual rapport, leaving the two of them sitting together on the pool coping deep in a debate about Tom Bombadil and the nature of desire while the party swirls around them, their connection established but its implications entirely unresolved. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B7529596-85DA-47DE-A681-9FA6C567AC4F/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B7529596-85DA-47DE-A681-9FA6C567AC4F/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc3c579 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/B7529596-85DA-47DE-A681-9FA6C567AC4F/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,102 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Scene: Scene 9\par +Model: anthropic/claude-sonnet-4.6\par +Character UUIDs: DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1,DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092,BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3,F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C,091EE601-91DB-497C-A646-B094624414DE,FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95,332DAD85-2636-46A0-8336-D2AEAEDF8241,75F58E24-E4EE-4163-A6B3-7703D8D211BD\par +Accepted for editing: 2026-08-23T20:54:29-05:00\par +\par +### STYLE\par +The style of the novel is in the style but not substance of Ken Follett. Each scene is in third person from the perspective of one of the characters.\par +\par +### LEXICON\par +(none)\par +\par +### STORY\par +Elikapeka Hayes, alone with daughters Emma and Lizzie after Andy and Ella leave, grants Emma a Friday-evening backyard pool party capped at twenty-five guests and permits boys, but refuses to exclude any family cousins and deflects Emma's pointed accusation of racial bias in the guest-list vetting process\u8212?asserting she will review all names and decide who is welcome\u8212?leaving Emma's challenge to her mother's social prejudices unresolved and filed away for a later attempt.\par +\par +From her parents' bedroom, Emma phones Susanna, Mai Lin, and Hannah in succession to build a vetted boy-invitation list that reaches fifteen names\u8212?adding Nate Oliveira, eliminating Chris DeLuca for calling Mai Lin and Emma interchangeable, and flagging Ryan from the swim team for confirmation\u8212?before calculating that her mother's mandate to include all three boy cousins (Devin, Tyler, and cannonball-prone Marcus) will disrupt her intended gender balance of fifteen boys to ten girls, leaving her without a workable counter-argument to raise the guest cap and only the unresolved notation "cousins don't count\u8212?separate category" starred on her notepad.\par +\par +From Elikapeka's viewpoint at her kitchen counter, the party achieves critical mass as the Hayes cousins (Devin, 16; Tyler, 15; Marcus, 14), Bobby Carpenter, Emma's best friend Mai Lin, and a stream of girls arrive in quick succession, the men remain on Jim's sailboat with cold beers and a working sound system, Susan Carpenter manages the catered tables outside, Michelle Hayes moves through the kitchen with established familiarity, and Elikapeka ends the scene in a state of controlled acceptance\u8212?folding discarded tee shirts, drinking cold coffee, and privately claiming the cheerful chaos as her own\u8212?with thirty-six children now mostly arrived but the full arc of the evening still unresolved.\par +\par +### CHARACTERS\par +Andy Hayes\par +Father and husband. Manages the team at American Airlines out of the Fort Lauderdale Airport that services its jets. Is a union member with nearly 30 years of experience. Scratch golfer. Large extended family, two brothers and a sister live nearby. Tall and handsome and very attractive to women in general. A leader of men.\par +Plays golf on Saturday mornings with Ella and Bobby, paired with Alex Carpenter. Drinks two beers and continues to swing with the same untroubled tempo that Ella has noticed and finds both unfair and impressive.\par +\par +Elikapeka Hayes\par +Wife of Andy Hayes, of Hawaiian origin. Stay at home mom. (eh-lee-la-PEH-ka)\par +\par +Has a calm, unhurried quality she brings to every task. Used to be an avid reader as a girl \u8212? her own mother had to hide books from her. Makes parenting decisions with quiet firmness, neither unkind nor moveable.\par +\par +Ella Hayes\par +Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\u8217?s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.\par +Has been playing Saturday morning golf with Bobby Carpenter for three years.\par +\par +Emma Hayes\par +Middle daughter. To be a high school junior. Social butterfly with dozens of friends. She\u8217?s the unacknowledged highest status girl in her class. In her mother\u8217?s words, the sun around which the other girls orbit.\par +Orchestrates social events with systematic, general-like deliberateness \u8212? working the phone in sequence, vetting names against multiple trusted sources before committing.\par +\par +Elizabeth (Lizzie) Hayes\par +Youngest daughter. To be a high school freshman. Bookish girl, very pretty, shy. She has three close friends, all of which are bookworms like herself.\par +Reads at a college level per her English teacher Mrs. Patterson. Aspires to write fantasy fiction in the tradition of Tolkien and McCaffrey. Moves through tasks with focused, urgent efficiency when a book is waiting. Tends to process frustration quietly and internally rather than acting out \u8212? explicitly contrasted with Emma's more reactive temperament.\par +\par +Bobby Carpenter\par +Best golfer on the boy\u8217?s high school team and Ella\u8217?s perpetual weekend playing and practice partner. Forever in Ella\u8217?s friend zone.\par +Has been Ella's Saturday morning golf partner for three years. Has grown significantly taller in the past year \u8212? now legitimately tall \u8212? which has increased his driving distance and created new competitive problems for Ella.\par +\par +Mai Lin Wen\par +Emma\u8217?s best friend and always up for lounging in the pool at Emma\u8217?s house. Born in America of Chinese immigrants. Beautiful and outgoing, wears the same dress size as Emma. Best friends with Emma since 2nd grade. Serves the secondary role as Emma\u8217?s enforcer in the gang of fashionable girls who orbit around Emma.\par +Often sleeps over at Emma\u8217?s house or Emma at hers.\par +\par +Alex Carpenter\par +Bobby Carpenter's father. Is an auto mechanic. Plays golf with Andy Hayes on the same Saturday outings as Bobby and Ella. Drinks a lot of beer during a round \u8212? yet apparently still plays adequately nonetheless.\par +\par +### RECALL\par +(none)\par +\par +### PREVIOUS\par +"Emma's idea and Emma's installation. She had Lizzie on the ladder."\par +\par +Michelle laughed. "How is Lizzie taking all this?"\par +\par +"She has a book," Elikapeka said.\par +\par +"Smart girl."\par +\par +The doorbell rang again. And then again before she'd taken three steps. And then, before she reached the hallway, a third time, because whoever was on the other side was either impatient or had missed the first attempt and was making up for it. She opened the door to four girls at once, all of them in coveralls, all of them carrying towels in the pastel colors of girls who coordinated these things in advance. They were talking before the door was fully open and did not stop talking as they came through it, and Elikapeka caught their names\u8212?she'd reviewed the list twice\u8212?and matched three of four on the first pass.\par +\par +Then more cars. Then more voices at the door. Then the particular compound noise of a party finding its footing, which was different from the noise of one or two or five people gathered in a place. It had a texture to it, something almost physical, and it rose from the backyard and came in through the sliding door and mixed with the music from the sailboat and the caterers' efficient movements and Michelle's steady presence at the counter and the smell of the chafing dish lids just beginning to warm.\par +\par +From the pool she heard the distinct and unmistakable sound of a cannonball.\par +\par +Then laughter. Then what sounded like protest. Then more laughter.\par +\par +Marcus.\par +\par +She knew without looking. She would have bet money.\par +\par +She was standing at the kitchen counter again\u8212?she kept returning to it, some gravitational pull\u8212?and she picked up her coffee mug and found it had gone cold. She drank it anyway and looked out through the sliding door at the thirty-odd young people filling her backyard by degrees, at the sailboat lit now by the dropping sun with three men on its deck who had earned the right to cold beers, at Susan moving between tables with the assurance of a woman who could set a tablecloth in a canal breeze, at Emma holding court near the pool steps with the easy authority of someone who had always expected this exact outcome.\par +\par +Another cannonball.\par +\par +More laughter.\par +\par +Elikapeka smiled into her cold coffee, because it was chaos, and it was hers, and that was not the worst thing in the world to be able to say.\par +\par +### NOTES\par +Hayes house \u8212? The Hayes family lives in a two story house built in the 1960s on a deep water canal (meaning, the canal can be used for boats going out to the Atlantic ocean). The house has a boat dock, rented out to a friend who has a fifty foot sailboat. The house has a small pool in the backyard which is often used by the family for gatherings.\par +Early evening on a Friday afternoon in June.\par +\par +### BRIEF\par +This scene is told in third person from the viewpoint of Lizzie Hayes.\par +If it had been up to Lizzie, she\u8217?d have stayed in her room and read books, but it wasn\u8217?t up to her and now she stood on the pool deck in the chaos of Emma\u8217?s sweet sixteen party as the party goers began to arrive. Her sister was in the middle of it, greeting and being greeted as if she was queen of the world, and perhaps on this night it was true. The sexes weren\u8217?t really mixing yet, as the boys were mostly in the pool and the girls were mostly on the patio, surrounding Emma.\par +And then Lizzie saw him. The coolest boy she\u8217?d ever seen, wearing swim trunks and talking with Bobby, Ella\u8217?s golfing buddy. The boy was blonde, muscular, and compact, not so tall as Bobby. He was tan and fit and blue eyed. He was a god, she was sure he was a god. She\u8217?d not once looked at a boy with desire but now she did. It was completely disconcerting.\par +Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm. It was Emma\u8217?s friend Hannah, who was pretty, stylish, and very slightly chubby and who wore a one piece swimsuit that had jewels on it and must have cost a fortune. She felt herself being dragged along right towards the boy she\u8217?d spotted. Hannah called out his name, Will Fontaine. He looked right at her. And before she could react, Hannah was telling him that Lizzie loves Lord of the Rings, too. And Lizzie felt Hannah let go and leave, and she was left tongue tied, desperately trying to think of something to say to Will.\par +By whatever magic existed in the universe, Will had her mesmerized as they discussed how Tom Bombadil rescued the hobbits from Old Man Willow.\par +Expand into 1500 words maximum.\par +\par +### DIRECTIVE\par +Expand to a maximum of 1500 words. Keep it chaotic and fun.\par +\par +### SCENE\par + +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3/content.rtf index fd5ce77..b336ea0 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/BFFEEB84-9E04-41EE-B083-5092D160ADF3/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,9 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2868 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} +{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} {\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 -\f0\fs26 \cf0 Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\'92s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.} \ No newline at end of file +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Oldest daughter. To be a high school senior. Highly skilled golfer looking for a college golf scholarship. Tall, haughty, proud, smart. Prefers male friends to female friends. Has never dated and rarely attends parties or after school activities other than golf. Taught golf primarily by her father, a scratch golfer. Daddy\'92s girl. Usually impatient with others and likes to play fast.\ +Has been playing Saturday morning golf with Bobby Carpenter for three years.\ +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092/content.rtf index 4f148d8..e1195d3 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DC6BC0EF-F4CE-4303-99AD-CA12671B9092/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,9 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} -\f0\fs24 Wife of Andy Hayes, of Hawaiian origin. Stay at home mom. (eh-lee-la-PEH-ka)\par -\par -Continuity update from Scene 4:\par -Wife of Andy Hayes, of Hawaiian origin. Stay at home mom. Has a calm, unhurried quality she brings to every task. Used to be an avid reader as a girl \u8212? her own mother had to hide books from her. Makes parenting decisions with quiet firmness, neither unkind nor moveable. Reads book back covers carefully before approving them for Lizzie. Vetoed Neil Gaiman's Stardust for Lizzie as not yet age-appropriate.\par +{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} +{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} +{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 -} \ No newline at end of file +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Wife of Andy Hayes, of Hawaiian origin. Stay at home mom. (eh-lee-la-PEH-ka)\ +\ +Has a calm, unhurried quality she brings to every task. Used to be an avid reader as a girl \'97 her own mother had to hide books from her. Makes parenting decisions with quiet firmness, neither unkind nor moveable.} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1/content.rtf index 1517287..9100fce 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/DEB6AE02-B51B-4C55-9E61-D08D32BABBA1/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,9 @@ {\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} {\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 -\f0\fs26 \cf0 Father and husband. Manages the team at American Airlines out of the Fort Lauderdale Airport that services its jets. Is a union member with nearly 30 years of experience. Scratch golfer. Large extended family, two brothers and a sister live nearby. Tall and handsome and very attractive to women in general. A leader of men.} \ No newline at end of file +\f0\fs24 \cf0 Father and husband. Manages the team at American Airlines out of the Fort Lauderdale Airport that services its jets. Is a union member with nearly 30 years of experience. Scratch golfer. Large extended family, two brothers and a sister live nearby. Tall and handsome and very attractive to women in general. A leader of men.\ +Plays golf on Saturday mornings with Ella and Bobby, paired with Alex Carpenter. Drinks two beers and continues to swing with the same untroubled tempo that Ella has noticed and finds both unfair and impressive.\ +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C/content.rtf index a98acd6..f49d094 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F03D5899-C5FB-43BB-90A7-611E9DCDD98C/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,6 @@ -{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} -{\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} -{\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Middle daughter. To be a high school junior. Social butterfly with dozens of friends. She\u8217?s the unacknowledged highest status girl in her class. In her mother\u8217?s words, the sun around which the other girls orbit.\par +Orchestrates social events with systematic, general-like deliberateness \u8212? working the phone in sequence, vetting names against multiple trusted sources before committing.\par +Hosted the planned backyard pool party, which reached a loud, crowded critical mass of roughly thirty-six teenagers. Wore the green swimsuit she had deliberated over for three days.\par -\f0\fs26 \cf0 Middle daughter. To be a high school junior. Social butterfly with dozens of friends. She\'92s the unacknowledged highest status girl in her class. In her mother\'92s words, the sun around which the other girls orbit.} \ No newline at end of file +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F6256C83-C65A-4788-B1B5-48B11C08B366/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F6256C83-C65A-4788-B1B5-48B11C08B366/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac75ae2 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F6256C83-C65A-4788-B1B5-48B11C08B366/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,211 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The moment the car backed out of the driveway, Emma was moving.\par +\par +She didn't run\u8212?running was undignified\u8212?but she walked with a purpose that was very close to it, straight to her parents' bedroom, where the phone sat on her mother's nightstand like a reward for exactly this kind of patience. She settled herself against the headboard, pulled her mother's decorative pillow behind her back, and positioned the notepad on her knees with the pen uncapped. The morning light came through the curtains in long warm stripes. Outside, she could hear the sailboat knocking gently against the dock.\par +\par +She wrote BOYS at the top of the page and underlined it twice.\par +\par +Susanna first. Susanna Greer was the head cheerleader and functionally omniscient about the male population of their school. If Susanna didn't like a boy, the boy ceased to exist as a viable option. This was simply how it worked.\par +\par +The phone rang twice.\par +\par +"Hello?"\par +\par +"It's me. I need the definitive list."\par +\par +"Of what?"\par +\par +"Boys, Susanna."\par +\par +A pause. "For the party?"\par +\par +"No, for my knitting circle. Yes, for the party. My mom said boys are allowed, which I did not see coming, so now I need to move fast before she changes her mind or adds some condition I haven't thought of yet."\par +\par +"Okay, okay." She could hear Susanna settling in on her end, which meant she was sitting down somewhere comfortable with the phone cord stretched to its limit, the way she always did when she was about to deliver information she considered important. "Okay. Jake Ferreira, obviously."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Obviously."\par +\par +"Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"He chews with his mouth open."\par +\par +"At lunch. In a pool he'll be fine."\par +\par +Emma wrote Chris DeLuca and put a small question mark after it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Matt Brouwer."\par +\par +"He asked Danielle out and then didn't show up."\par +\par +"That was like six months ago."\par +\par +"I have a long memory. Next."\par +\par +"Emma."\par +\par +"Next, Susanna."\par +\par +Susanna sighed. "Fine. Brandon Hicks."\par +\par +"Brandon is good." She wrote his name. "Who else."\par +\par +They went on like this for twenty minutes, Emma with her pen moving over the notepad, crossing out and adding and putting small notations next to certain names\u8212?things like *asks too many questions* or *fine if Danielle isn't there* or simply *no*. By the time she hung up, she had seven names that had survived the cross-examination. Seven boys. From one phone call. She looked at the list with genuine satisfaction. This was going to be the best birthday party she'd ever had, provided her mother didn't ruin it, which remained a live concern.\par +\par +She dialed Mai Lin Wen without consulting the notepad. She knew that number by heart.\par +\par +Mai Lin picked up on the first ring, which meant she'd been waiting by the phone, which was very Mai Lin.\par +\par +"Tell me everything," Mai Lin said, before Emma could speak.\par +\par +"Mom said yes to the party."\par +\par +"She said yes to boys?"\par +\par +"She said yes to boys."\par +\par +The shriek on the other end of the phone was satisfying. Emma held the receiver a few inches from her ear and waited it out.\par +\par +"Okay," Emma said, when it was over. "I need your input on the list. I already talked to Susanna."\par +\par +"What did Susanna say about Tyler Kim?"\par +\par +"She didn't bring up Tyler Kim."\par +\par +"That's a no from me on Tyler Kim, then. He was staring at me all through third period last week and not in a good way. In a weird way."\par +\par +"Agreed." Emma hadn't written Tyler Kim down anyway. "I have seven so far. I'm going to read them to you."\par +\par +"Ready."\par +\par +Emma read the names.\par +\par +There was a silence after each one that communicated Mai Lin's processing. Then: "Cross off Chris DeLuca."\par +\par +"I had a question mark next to him anyway."\par +\par +"Cross him off. He told Hannah he thought the two of us were basically the same person."\par +\par +Emma stopped. "I'm sorry\u8212?what?"\par +\par +"He literally said we were interchangeable."\par +\par +"That is\u8212?" Emma searched for the appropriate word. "That is genuinely insulting to both of us."\par +\par +"Right?"\par +\par +"We don't even look alike."\par +\par +"I know that."\par +\par +"We're not even the same height."\par +\par +"Emma, I know."\par +\par +"I'm just saying that is an extraordinarily stupid thing to say." She crossed off Chris DeLuca with enough pressure to leave an impression on the next page. "He's gone. Who do you want to add?"\par +\par +"Nate Oliveira," Mai Lin said. "He's very cute, and he was nice to me at the track meet."\par +\par +Emma wrote the name. "Anyone else?"\par +\par +"That's it from me. I want it to be an exclusive list. Not every boy in the junior class."\par +\par +"Obviously not every boy in the junior class. I'm not running a charity event."\par +\par +"Some people invite everyone."\par +\par +"I'm not some people."\par +\par +"That's why I like you," Mai Lin said, and Emma could hear her smiling. "Am I sleeping over after?"\par +\par +"Of course you're sleeping over after."\par +\par +"Good. I'll need to decompress."\par +\par +Emma laughed, which was real, because Mai Lin always made her laugh. She said goodbye and moved down her mental list of people to call.\par +\par +Hannah Prescott was next, and this was the call Emma approached the way one approaches a necessary dental appointment\u8212?something to get through, efficiently, and not dwell on. Hannah came from money and was popular with the boys in a way that Emma found slightly suspicious, which was to say that Hannah was obviously aware of this popularity and deployed it deliberately. Emma didn't dislike her, exactly. She simply had no illusions about her or her motives, some of which she knew her mother would not approve.\par +\par +"Hannah."\par +\par +"Emma, hi! I heard about the party, this is going to be so fun\u8212?"\par +\par +"Who should I invite? Boys."\par +\par +A brief pause as Hannah recalibrated from enthusiasm to usefulness. "Okay. Marcus Webb."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Who else."\par +\par +"Definitely Corey\u8212?"\par +\par +"Last name."\par +\par +"Corey Janssen."\par +\par +Emma wrote it. "Good. Anyone else you're thinking about?"\par +\par +"What about Ryan?"\par +\par +"Which Ryan?"\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team."\par +\par +"Ryan from the swim team has a girlfriend."\par +\par +"They broke up."\par +\par +Emma paused. "When?"\par +\par +"Like two weeks ago."\par +\par +Emma wrote *Ryan\u8212?swim team\u8212?confirm* with a small circle around it. "I'll look into it. Thanks, Hannah."\par +\par +"Oh my gosh, of course, I'm so excited\u8212?"\par +\par +"I'll call you later." Emma hung up.\par +\par +She worked through the rest of her list of girls, methodically, a conversation here and a conversation there, the names accumulating on the notepad in her lap. Some boys she added. Some she declined before they were fully nominated. One she wrote down and then stared at for a long moment before drawing a slow, deliberate line through his name, for reasons she didn't articulate out loud because she was alone.\par +\par +Finally, she sat back against the headboard and counted.\par +\par +Fifteen.\par +\par +Fifteen boys, all thoroughly vetted, all approved by at least two people she trusted to have opinions worth consulting. It was a good list. It was an excellent list. She looked at it with the satisfaction of a general surveying a well-positioned army.\par +\par +And then she thought about Devin.\par +\par +And Tyler.\par +\par +And the others.\par +\par +Her mother's voice came back to her with pristine clarity: *Every last one of them.*\par +\par +Emma looked at her list.\par +\par +Fifteen boys.\par +\par +Twenty-five guests total. Which meant ten girls, herself included\u8212?and she'd already been composing that list in her head separately, so she knew exactly who those ten were. It was wrong. The number of boys and girls needed to balance. She needed her mother to agree to thirty attendees, to properly balance the sexes.\par +\par +She counted her cousins.\par +\par +There were three boy cousins who would plausibly be invited by her mother's standard of *every last one of them*. Devin, who was fine, she supposed, in the way that a piece of furniture is fine. Tyler, who Lizzie apparently thought she knew, which was hilarious and also somehow annoying. And Marcus, who was fourteen and had gone through a phase last summer of doing cannonballs directly next to whoever was floating quietly in the pool, which was not something Emma was prepared to tolerate at her own birthday party.\par +\par +Three cousins.\par +\par +Three boys who would have to come off this list.\par +\par +She looked at her fifteen names.\par +\par +She looked at them for a long moment.\par +\par +Then she said something under her breath that she would not have said in front of her mother, picked up the phone again, and started to think very carefully about which argument would work.\par +\par +Not the fairness argument. Her mother was impervious to fairness arguments.\par +\par +Not the numbers argument. Her mother would simply raise the cap, or suggest she invite fewer girls.\par +\par +No. She needed something her mother couldn't easily dismiss. Something that reframed the question. She didn't have it yet.\par +\par +She wrote *cousins don't count\u8212?separate category* on the corner of the notepad and starred it three times.\par +\par +She'd figure it out. She had time. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F9A3C419-ECA8-4BA5-A564-8B1630FDF4F2/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F9A3C419-ECA8-4BA5-A564-8B1630FDF4F2/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7628760 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/F9A3C419-ECA8-4BA5-A564-8B1630FDF4F2/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,81 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 The coffee was good. Elikapeka stood at the kitchen counter with both hands wrapped around the mug and allowed herself thirty seconds of stillness before the evening swallowed her whole.\par +\par +Through the sliding glass door she could see Susan Carpenter moving between the rented folding tables with the brisk competence of a woman who had organized school fundraisers and church potlucks and knew exactly how a tablecloth should be anchored against a canal breeze. The caterers\u8212?two young men and a girl in black polo shirts\u8212?were arranging chafing dishes with the careful efficiency of people being paid by the hour. The patio looked better than Elikapeka had expected. The string lights she and Emma had hung last night caught the late-afternoon sun and would come into their own once the sky darkened.\par +\par +Thirty-six children.\par +\par +She drank her coffee.\par +\par +From behind the house came the low, pleasant thump of bass finding its footing, then a moment of silence, then the opening of something Emma had described as essential. Elikapeka recognized it dimly. The sound system on Jim's sailboat apparently worked. She heard Andy's laugh carry across the water\u8212?that easy, unselfconscious laugh of a man holding a beer and doing something pleasant with his hands\u8212?and then Alex Carpenter's voice saying something she couldn't make out, and then both of them laughing, and then Jim's voice joining in. Three men on a sailboat in a canal in Fort Lauderdale in June, which was exactly what three such men would choose to be doing on a Friday evening if given any latitude at all.\par +\par +She had given them the latitude. She was not sorry about it. The sound system worked and they were out of her kitchen.\par +\par +The doorbell rang.\par +\par +Ella appeared from the direction of the stairs with a boy behind her, and Elikapeka registered the boy before she registered anything else, which was how she always registered Bobby Carpenter\u8212?as a presence slightly larger than expected, taller this year than last in a way that still surprised her faintly each time. He'd always been a polite boy. He was a polite taller boy now. He had the particular expression of someone who understood he'd been drafted and was trying to look willing.\par +\par +Ella was already moving toward the front door with the focused economy of someone who had been given a task and intended to discharge it efficiently and return to her own concerns. She was wearing a coverall over her swimsuit, practical and unadorned, and Elikapeka thought for the hundredth time that Ella would find this entire evening mildly tolerable at best and was doing it because she'd been asked.\par +\par +She heard the door open.\par +\par +She heard Michelle's voice.\par +\par +Elikapeka set her coffee mug on the counter and moved to the kitchen doorway where she could see the entry hall. Michelle Hayes was a compact, energetic woman married to the most amiable of the three Hayes brothers, and she had brought all three boy cousins in one efficient delivery, like a woman who had learned to consolidate her errands. The cousins came through the door in a loose cluster\u8212?Devin first, who was sixteen and had the unhurried manner of a boy who had been told he was good-looking often enough to believe it; Tyler behind him, who was fifteen and had apparently had some kind of recent moment of recognition with Lizzie that still mildly baffled Elikapeka; and Marcus last, who was fourteen, who was wearing his flip flops on the wrong feet, and who was already looking past everyone toward the back of the house with an expression that could only be described as strategic.\par +\par +Emma appeared from the direction of the stairs with Mai Lin one step behind her, the two of them moving in the synchronized way of girls who had been best friends since the second grade and had developed a shared locomotion. Both wore coveralls over their swimsuits. Emma's coverall, Elikapeka noted, was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, which was cover the swimsuit she and Andy had disagreed about. She had made her peace with it. More or less.\par +\par +Emma greeted her cousins with the warmth of a hostess who had already filed several private grievances about their attendance and had decided, professionally, to set those aside for the duration of the evening. She kissed Michelle's cheek and pointed all three boys toward the back of the house with a gesture that was somehow both gracious and directional, the way a good ma\u238?tre d' points guests toward a table.\par +\par +They did not require pointing twice.\par +\par +Tee shirts hit the kitchen floor. Flip flops went in two different directions. Devin cleared the sliding glass door first. Tyler was a half-step behind him. Marcus, she noticed, had already located something\u8212?a Nerf football, presumably from the basket of pool toys she kept in the utility closet\u8212?and was holding it above his head like a trophy as he crossed the patio and hit the water with a sound that reached her from twenty feet away.\par +\par +The men on the sailboat cheered.\par +\par +Elikapeka picked up Marcus's tee shirt from the kitchen floor and folded it.\par +\par +"Mrs. Hayes, should I\u8212?" Bobby started, gesturing vaguely toward the backyard in a way that suggested he would go wherever he was pointed.\par +\par +"Go on," Elikapeka said. "You're doing Ella a kindness."\par +\par +Ella's expression suggested she disputed the framing but would not contest it in front of her mother. She and Bobby went out through the sliding door. Elikapeka could hear Susan Carpenter greeting them warmly, because Susan was the kind of woman who greeted everyone warmly as a matter of genuine temperament rather than social management.\par +\par +The music from the sailboat shifted to something louder and the bass settled into the boards of the dock and came up through the kitchen floor faintly, which was not something she'd anticipated but was, she decided, acceptable.\par +\par +Michelle had come through to the kitchen. She was already opening the refrigerator with the easy familiarity of a woman who'd stood in this kitchen dozens of times, which she had.\par +\par +"The tables look beautiful," Michelle said, pulling out the pitcher of iced tea Elikapeka had made that morning.\par +\par +"Susan did most of the arranging."\par +\par +"The lights were Emma's idea, I assume."\par +\par +"Emma's idea and Emma's installation. She had Lizzie on the ladder."\par +\par +Michelle laughed. "How is Lizzie taking all this?"\par +\par +"She has a book," Elikapeka said.\par +\par +"Smart girl."\par +\par +The doorbell rang again. And then again before she'd taken three steps. And then, before she reached the hallway, a third time, because whoever was on the other side was either impatient or had missed the first attempt and was making up for it. She opened the door to four girls at once, all of them in coveralls, all of them carrying towels in the pastel colors of girls who coordinated these things in advance. They were talking before the door was fully open and did not stop talking as they came through it, and Elikapeka caught their names\u8212?she'd reviewed the list twice\u8212?and matched three of four on the first pass.\par +\par +Then more cars. Then more voices at the door. Then the particular compound noise of a party finding its footing, which was different from the noise of one or two or five people gathered in a place. It had a texture to it, something almost physical, and it rose from the backyard and came in through the sliding door and mixed with the music from the sailboat and the caterers' efficient movements and Michelle's steady presence at the counter and the smell of the chafing dish lids just beginning to warm.\par +\par +From the pool she heard the distinct and unmistakable sound of a cannonball.\par +\par +Then laughter. Then what sounded like protest. Then more laughter.\par +\par +Marcus.\par +\par +She knew without looking. She would have bet money.\par +\par +She was standing at the kitchen counter again\u8212?she kept returning to it, some gravitational pull\u8212?and she picked up her coffee mug and found it had gone cold. She drank it anyway and looked out through the sliding door at the thirty-odd young people filling her backyard by degrees, at the sailboat lit now by the dropping sun with three men on its deck who had earned the right to cold beers, at Susan moving between tables with the assurance of a woman who could set a tablecloth in a canal breeze, at Emma holding court near the pool steps with the easy authority of someone who had always expected this exact outcome.\par +\par +Another cannonball.\par +\par +More laughter.\par +\par +Elikapeka smiled into her cold coffee, because it was chaos, and it was hers, and that was not the worst thing in the world to be able to say. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FD3A514E-0026-4519-B921-E2940353B1CE/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FD3A514E-0026-4519-B921-E2940353B1CE/content.rtf new file mode 100644 index 0000000..330a326 --- /dev/null +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FD3A514E-0026-4519-B921-E2940353B1CE/content.rtf @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil Helvetica;}} +\f0\fs24 Andy watches Ella lose the match to Bobby on the eighteenth hole after a buried bunker lie costs her the birdie she needed, then drives her home in deliberate silence, privately deciding that her inability to accept defeat without full emotional cost is the same quality that makes her exceptional. +} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95/content.rtf b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95/content.rtf index 8d14f43..b742b89 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95/content.rtf +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/Data/FE16770D-D7B7-48EC-AEFF-E1C0787E8D95/content.rtf @@ -1,7 +1,9 @@ {\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\cocoartf2870 -\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\froman\fcharset0 Palatino-Roman;} +\cocoatextscaling0\cocoaplatform0{\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset0 Helvetica;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} {\*\expandedcolortbl;;} -\pard\tx360\tx720\tx1080\tx1440\tx1800\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\fi360\sl264\slmult1\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 +\pard\tx560\tx1120\tx1680\tx2240\tx2800\tx3360\tx3920\tx4480\tx5040\tx5600\tx6160\tx6720\pardirnatural\partightenfactor0 -\f0\fs26 \cf0 Best golfer on the boy\'92s high school team and Ella\'92s perpetual weekend playing and practice partner. 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a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/writing.history b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/writing.history index 939e0ab..1a6c4a7 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/writing.history +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/Files/writing.history @@ -1,4 +1,4 @@ - 2026-08-23 + 2026-08-23 \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/QuickLook/Preview.html b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/QuickLook/Preview.html index bc184ef..8c54c47 100644 --- a/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/QuickLook/Preview.html +++ b/hapagirlsauthoringsystemv1.scriv/QuickLook/Preview.html @@ -100,9 +100,6 @@

  • Scene 3

    -

    The breakfast dishes were still on the table when Elikapeka Hayes poured herself a second cup of coffee and settled into the chair at the head of the table. Through the sliding glass doors she could see the backyard, the pool catching the late May morning light, the canal beyond it glittering, and the tall white mast of Frank Bellardi's sailboat swaying gently at the dock. Andy and her mother had been gone just over an hour. She had the morning ahead of her, quiet except for her daughters.

    -


    -

    Emma...

  • Scene 4

    @@ -117,6 +114,9 @@