So, I'm writing a story about a 17 year old girl, Emma, whose parents have split up. Emma moved with her dad to Svartros (a city far away), and Emma's mum lives with her new boy friend Kristian. The divorce happened like two months ago, so the wounds are obviously still fresh, and Emma's dad is being quite sad. This makes Emma really angry, because she doesn't like to see her father sad. She wants him to be strong, like he has always been. Now, a lot of young adult novels are about rebellious teens, but often I find that the main character just sounds whiny and not believable, so I wonder, do you think Emma sounds annoying and whiny or does she actually seem "real"?
"What are you looking for?" dad asked as I stood by the kitchen window, looking out on the road. Jesper was supposed to pick me up any minute now. "I already told you. I'm going to a movie night," I said, even though I had not told dad. I was angry at him, so it was not even hard to lie. When I had come home last night and been looking for soda in the fridge, I had noticed that two wine bottles, that had been there before I had gone to Jesper's, were now gone. Pathetic. In the morning, dad had not woken up until eleven a.m. and his eyes had been blood shot. It made me furious. Dad was supposed to be strong - immortal even. Rationally, I understood that he was having a rough time, that had been one of the reasons I had moved with him to Svartros in the first place, but to actually see it in bright daylight, at eleven a.m. at the breakfast table, with an unshaved chin and a wrinkly shirt he had fallen asleep in, was heavy. Almost too heavy for me to handle. "Fucking shit-Kristian," I had mumbled. "And fucking shit-mum." But I was more mad at dad, who could not keep it together. Drinking alone on a Friday night? Why could he not make friends or get a hobby? I had had a rough time too, but I still tried! Why was dad weaker than me? Pathetic. It was not hard to lie to someone who was pathetic. Besides, I did not want to spend my Saturday night with him and his breath that smelled like pickles. "You said that? I must've forgotten… Who is it at this time?" "Max," I said, like dad would know who that was. "Max… ?" "Max Maller." "I haven't heard of him," dad said with an implying voice. So? What was I supposed to do about that? Dad only knew one of my friends, Lily. Did that mean I could only hang out with her, and never meet any new friends because dad "had not heard of them"? "He's at my school. I wrote down his address here," I said and waved the note I held in my hand. "By the way, I'm sleeping over." "But Emma," dad sighed and sounded just as tired as he looked. "Couldn't you have told me that earlier? I would've liked to call his parents in that case. Are more people coming?" "Eh, of course more people are coming," I snarled. I would never had dared to snarl like that at my parents before, but if dad wanted to be the weaker one of us know, I could play along and be the boss. "Here's his home number too, but his parents aren't gonna be home now." "Where are they then?" dad asked and looked at the note with the address and phone number. "Emma, is this a party you're going to?" Someone honked a car horn outside and I ran out. Literally ran. In Jesper's car, there were no room for lost wine bottles or sad fathers.