i have no idea how to format dialouge (saturday night jail cell)

"wwuouoohh..."

"You are such a wimp," I smacked Harry upside the head, while still rubbing my own with the other hand. "You're a lightweight. You're a coward. You're a candy ass... weenie."

He slowly sat up on the cold bench that hung from the cold cell wall. "Damnit...." he still wouldn't open his eyes. “My gramma’s gonna kill me.” “Not as bad as what I’m gonna do to you, you, you... milquetoast.” He stopped groaning and looked at me. “Dude. You did it.” he blinked. “You used milquetoast in a conversation.”

“With a drunk, no less,” I sighed, leaning back into the wall opposite him. “Nah, I’m done being drunk. I’m just hungover, at this point,” he protested half-heartedly, and offered me a piece of gum from his hip pocket. I passed

“Do you even get hungover before you go to sleep? I thought that was like a morning-after thing.” But looking out the window I could see the sunrise peaking at the trees.

“I mean I did sleep. In the car. So.” He was back to lounging on the bench.

“In the cruiser,” I corrected him. “In the police car.”

“And?” he seemed to be holding back laughter, or at least too tired to release it. “Sleep is sleep.”

“Wise words from Sir Misses-First-Period-A-Lot.” he threw the gum wrapper at me, and sighed. “Well, happy twenty first, Dame Forgets-Her-Lunch-A-Lot. First drink-” I laughed, “first drunk-” he raised his eyebrows and I nodded, allowing him that one. “First fist fight,” he was counting on his fingers now. “But not the first punch, right? No,” he answered himself before I could.

“First boy...”

I tried to keep my tone casual, I tried to keep my eyes on the wall over his head, and I tried, I really did, to keep the blush from out of my cheeks. But my breath caught, and my eyes slid down, and after the third shot I no longer had any control over my skin tone.

“Whaaaaaa....t...”

“Close your mouth or someone’s gonna shit on it.” I was pretty sure that was the saying. I started picking at the rubber on my shoe sole.

“Hey. No! Millie, I’ve played truth or dare with you and Sarah and like Jason and people before! Izza and Cal and-! There is no way-”

“Yes way, asshole, truth or dare doesn’t count!” I finally met his eyes. He held us there for a good ten- seventeen seconds.

“That Jeremy guy?” he turned as his tone became edgier.

“Uh huh.” I was watching him now.

“Welllll....” he rubbed the bags under his eyes that had somehow darkened exponentially over the course of the night. “Is he gonna call?”

I shrugged. “Perhaps.” But we both knew that wasn’t the issue here. I wondered if he would-

“Did Caroline see?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know...” That wasn’t entirely the truth. “Maybe... probably.” I added guiltily.

He was silent for a moment. “Damn, Milla,”  he said, and he got off the bench and came and sat with me on the floor. The gesture of getting up off his ass almost made me tear up, more than the early hour, more than the guilt of making out with someone in front of my ex girlfriend. He put his hand on my back and massaged my shoulders for a moment before saying-

“You know how whenever Sarah bleaches her hair she says the itchiness is made worth it because the smell reminds her of the first time she did it at Caroline’s house?” I nodded and sniffled. “I think ‘milquetoast’ will be the bleach smell of tonight.”

Thank god for friends who keep you laughing.

thirty three words over (three minute story)

I checked my watch for the sixth time to ensure that I really was late. And I really was. Caroline would be furious, but it hardly mattered, for she always was. I looked for the bus again. Again at my watch. I turned to face the breeze and tried to take a minute to calm down. Breathe in. It’s fine. Breathe out. You’re fine. Breathe in. Calm down. Breathe out. For just a minute.

“Ugh!” Something cold had hit me on the back of me neck. I jumped up and whipped around, clutching myself, trying to stop it from dripping down my dress. Before me was a girl, holding an empty pitcher, smoothing out her own dress and trying to pretend she had not just fallen into her own flower boxes, and tried to avoid my eye contact. “Ahh... hi,” she met my eyes guiltily. “Do me a favor and pretend you didn’t see that? Thanks.” She walked away before I could answer. I’m not sure what I would’ve said anyway.

Three minutes? That’s how often the buses come, right? I’ve been here for at least four. I closed my eyes and clicked my heels, as nothing more than a way to pass the time. Theres no place like... Margie’s eight minutes from now, with a dry dress, and a cup of freshly dumped best friend, and a side of hash browns. “That’s a pretty nice dress.” I turned to see the girl had returned to the window with her pitcher refilled. I squinted at her, preparing for the proper girl greeting. “That’s a pretty nice... earrings. I like your earrings.” And I did- gold and blue lightning bolts that zig zagged at an angle to her jawline. She grinned. “Thank you. Also this bus stop is discontinued.” She turned back to her pansies.

I don’t think my face changed. I’d spent too much energy already. “Ug, god.” And I just sat down and rested my head on the wall. “Then why is the sign still here? Why is there no notice? Did they tell anyone? Who even makes these dumb decisions?!”

There was a pause. When I twisted around, there was no one at the window.

“Cool, cool,” I muttered to myself, and began rummaging in my purse for an idea of what to do next.

“Um- where were you going?” She appeared on the sidewalk beside me, slightly flushed. She was still adjusting her shoes, and she hopped on one foot as she said, “because I was just about to go that way to the park, and we could uh- you could walk with me if its- if its not too far. To where you’re going” She was still breathing somewhat irregularly. From hurrying out of her house, I assumed. I sat up.

“Nnnno offense...” I began, and stood up to face her. “But I don’t... know you...?” I looked into her eyes. “Uh.” The eyes became hidden by a pair of golden eyelashes. “Yeah, yeah yeah, okay. Yeah ok, see you.” She started to head back to her house.

I looked at my watch, and then to her retreating back. “Wait!” She turned back to me, seeming to stand straighter- more hopeful. “Aren’t you going to the park anyway?” “Oh!” she seemed surprised. “Yes...” she said hesitantly. “Yes I was. Yeah, sure. Yes.” She started down the block without me, her own dress swishing around her knees and she walked quickly, with purpose, and her earrings swinging in rhythm with the arms at her side. My own heels clicked the sidewalk as I caught up to her. “Well then we might as well go together anyway. You know. Two pretty nice girls on a pretty nice afternoon.” She met my smile, and I breathed again.

Caroline would have to wait.