Here’s the first bit of a story I’m writing about infidelity. At it’s core, the story is really about a man’s realization that he is an active force in the world, capable of shattering people’s lives with his actions. The scariest part of it all is that he has always thought of himself as a good person, but is now realizes that where there should presumably be remorse, there is none. He feels nothing, save for some regret for being caught, despite destroying his best friend’s relationship and his own girlfriends life. For the first time, he sees himself as he truly is, a monster. I’ll post the other parts later. Here goes:

I.
Michael and I made eye contact as he walked in through the door. I was sure he was here to confront me about his girlfriend Nina who I had been sleeping with for over a month now. She must have told him, I thought. Sipping my beer, I waved him over to where I was sitting in the far corner of the bar beneath a flickering Pabst Blue Ribbon sign.

"Hey man," he said, pulling up a chair from the table next to mine. "I need to talk to you about something."

He folded his small, clean hands on the table in front of me and stared directly into my eyes. I poured myself another beer from the pitcher.

"How did you know I would be here?" I asked.

"Just a guess."

A guess? I had told Nina where I was going. I looked around the bar and then loosened my collar.

"What is it?" I said, squirming down in my chair.

"It’s actually about Nina."

"What about her?"

"It’s just that–things are going really great between us."

"Yeah?" I said. I took a large gulp of beer, draining the rest of my glass completely. My pulse slowed, and my face seemed to cool off. She hadn’t told him about us after all, I thought.

"I was thinking about asking her to meet my family and maybe even stay the weekend with them."

"Really?" I glanced at the clock overtop of the bar. It was 8:00 PM which meant I would have to leave soon if I was going to make it to Nina’s apartment by 9:00 like we had planned. "Are you sure it’s not too soon?"

"Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about," he said. "Do you think that it is?"

"Let me get you a beer," I said, cracking a smile.

Just then Michael reached into the pocket of his scrubs and took out his pager. "Shit, they need me at the hospital."

"I’ll bet you’ll be glad when this residency stuff is all over."

"You can say that again."

"We can talk later about this, right?" he said.

"Sure, I’ll be around all week."

"Cool." Michael pushed the chair back from the table and stood up. I noticed the dark sweat rings around his neck and under his armpits. The last time I saw him this worked up was when he was applying for Med school, I thought.

On his way out, he placed a dollar bill down on the bar, even though he hadn’t drank anything. I finished up the pitcher I was working on and left a couple minutes after him.

He has no idea at all, I thought. Now all I had to worry about was my own girlfriend, Amy. I dialed Nina’s number on my cellphone.

"Hello?"

"What’s up?"

"Nothing. Are you still coming over?"

"Yeah, I’ll be there in about an hour."

"OK."

I lit a cigarette. The smoke rings I blew had a bluish tint to them as they floated past the neon signs in front of the stores on the street. I turned down Columbus Ave towards Nina’s. It was a cold, San Francisco night, and wet. I wondered where I would tell Amy I was going.

II.

Nina came on to me; it wasn’t my fault. We were all hanging out at my apartment, the four of us. I was playing a new song for everyone. Michael and Amy were standing at the bottom of the stairs, talking. I finished to Nina’s clapping and googly eyes.

"That was amazing!" Nina sat down next to me on the top stair, placing her hand high up on my thigh.

"Thanks," I said.

"You know I’m a pretty good singer myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe we could do an open-mike thing at Cafe Metro," I said, breaking into a jazz-blues on my guitar.

"Do you have any more original songs?"

"A few."

"Play one! Play one!" Nina bubbled. "Guys! Guys! Get over here!" she yelled to Michael and Amy who were still talking. "Adam is going to play another."

They came back up the stairs, the flow of their conversation not broken. I started to play another new song, then stopped to explain why I had written it, what it meant to me. Nina’s eyes sparkly eyes hung on my ever chord-change. As I hit the chorus, I tweaked the neck of my guitar in the air with feeling, my eyes fixed on some far off point on the horizon.

That’s when it happened.

We were all tipsy by now. I set my guitar down against the wall of the building and went upstairs to use the bathroom, and apparently Nina followed me. When I opened the bathroom door, there she was, standing in the hallway, waiting. Placing her hands on either si

This man my friend had a gf who yes he had sexual attraction for, it was mutual, but I just knew all they had was lust not love. Anyhoo he is well off financially ad she was using him by getting him to pay her car off, give her new furniture for her condo, but cheated with another guy. I told him all this and he was pissed at me even after he knew for himself. Told me do not call him anymore. So I didn’t and 2 years later out of the blue he called me and left me a lenghty voice mail saying he is sorry, he was a stupid a hole, he knew i only told him out of love and respect for him, that he didnt mean to be cruel, and that women come and go but real friends are forever. I am probably on of the only true friends he has as all his other ones are just good to go to bars and the beach but when he wants to talk in hour longs convos on his problems they dont have "time" but i do. I just can’t believe a guy who was like my best bud did that to me. I do miss him a lot, and wanna be buds again, and go traveling together again, so since he called me this moring should I call him back and talk. Inspite of his words 2 yrs ago he is a good person he i guess just got caught up.

My mother clasped her hands together, “Well,” she walked over to the where I was seated and sat down at the stool next to me running her hands through my hair.I shifted uncomfortably away from her resenting the fact she had touched me. My father gave me a stern look and I just rolled my eyes in protest.

“Do you remember Joyce Maude down at the country club?” Her smiled never left her face which was really starting to creep me out.

This piqued my curiosity, “You mean the really mean woman who smells like cat food all of the time and never brushes her teeth?” My lips curled with disgust.

My father gripped the edge of the counter his knuckles baring white and said with a haughty tone, “Charlene, I don’t want to ever hear you say that again, okay, Mrs. Maude is a good person with a good heart who helps out in the community.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well it’s true,” I blurted out. “She never brushes her teeth and she always smells like cats!” I shuddered with horror.

I continued, “And she is really mean, remember the last time we were at the country club and you were playing in the golf tourney with Mr. Ripperton?”

My mother was glancing back and forth between the two of us smile beginning to fade when my father said, “Yes, I do, and she made sure that all of the money that was included into the tournament was to be donated to various charities.”
I grunted and mumbled under my breath, “She also made sure you faulted on the last hole with all of her excessive coughing when it was your turn to putt,” blood still boiling with anger as I remembered my father’s saddened expression that day while Mr. Ripperton celebrated yet another Ocean Shores Tourney Victory.

“She was also sick that day with the flu,” my father said with reassurance. “Yet, she still managed to show up and give support to the otherwise—“

“It was her husband!”

His eyebrows raised then he continued, “Charlene Dawson I would have expected more empathy from you.”

I stared down at the kitchen counter, cheeks burning with frustration.

My father softened his gaze and said in a quiet tone, “Mrs. Maude is a very fragile and sick old lady and she does everything she can to make sure that people in disadvantaged neighborhoods are given food to eat, money, clothes, and a multitude of other things they may need so they may live a better life. I do not know anybody else who does more for the community than Mrs. Maude.”

He paused while my mother repositioned herself in her stool.

He continued, “If there is any one person on this planet whom I look up to the most it is definitely Mrs. Maude. I only hope to be half the person she is.”

He let the last few words bury themselves in the eeriness of silence.

There was a long pause.

My mother glanced at both us and when she was sure our conversation had subsided she spoke, “Anyway, Mrs. Maude told me that she was in search of a few good enthusiastic young teenagers who were job-hunting this summer and I recommended Charlene to take up the position as one of the care-givers.”

I sat still with bated breath and brushed my bangs out of my eyes.

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Basically, I am moving really slow through my novel. I am introducing my characters first, so the action hasn’t really happened yet and wont’t til about 65 percent of the story is finished. Do you think I should implement more action scenes at an earlier time or is this fine?

Also, whaty do you think of this excerpt anyway?

18 male=]

I know I have a lot of years still ahead of me to grow and improve so I am taking my time with this writing thing and doing my best. This is actually the first novel I have ever begun to or plan on finishing to write. Based off of real people with slight characteristic tweaks=]