Can you critique this passage I wrote?

“I turned around slowly. “Hey Dad...” I said, trying to sound like it was any normal day. “So, what are you doing in here? Getting a drink? May I recommend the root beer float? They’re really out of this world!” I grasped the icy glass and took a chug, spilling foam onto my dress. “Ahh! That hits the spot. I’ll order you one right now. Mr. Whitterm-” “It’s quite alright, Alice.” Dad gently tugged me on the shoulders. He had a bemused expression on his face. My cheeks grew warm - I could imagine them being a neon rose tint. “We’re not mad at you, if that’s what you’re thinking. No, we were actually in town to come talk to you. We were going to stop by the boarding school, but...since you’re here, we can tell you now.” He looked back at mom, who was smoking a cigarette and reading the newspaper. “Alright if I tell her?” She put down her newspaper and nodded. “She should sit with us, when we tell,” she said. I looked behind me and saw everyone, including Harvey, looking at me with confused faces. I lept out of the chair and followed my parents to the far end of the counter. “I’ll just be gone for a few minutes,” I called back to them. Mildred nodded and turned back to sipping her drink. I noticed Lorraine and Peggy were sharing a bowl of peach ice cream. Mom and dad sat me down in between them. There was a serious expression on their faces. “What is it?” I asked. “Mr. Yamamoto,” he began. “He - he - you see -” “He died, didn’t he?” I guessed. Mr. Yamamoto was dad’s boss. Dad was Mr. Yamamoto’s only employee. My stomach churned and twisted itself into knots. We’d be poor. “No,” he said forcefully. “He transferred me. We won’t be going to Paris this summer for your coming out because we need to take the time to move and get settled.” My stomach gave a final wrench and sank. My head clouded. No Paris? Not this summer? I had planned on escaping to an attic and becoming an artist. Romantic visions I had previously harbored having to do with my life as an artist and model vanished into a smokey haze. I had had my whole life planned. Escape to Paris. Find reasonable living quarters. Buy art supplies. Paint and become known. Discuss world affairs and philosophy with the great minds of the city. Die surrounded by journalists. It was the perfect plan. “Well, where are we going?” I asked. “The Philippines!” My blank face stared at his excited one. I made a mental note to find the Philippines later on my wall map. “There are a ton of things a young girl like you can do there. There’s a university, hotels of every kind. It’s nice and tropical. Tennis lessons all year long!” We had gone to Puerto Rico one summer. I wasn’t particularly fond of the place. “A bit like Puerto Rico’s speed. Lots of Spanish, old world charm. You’ll love it.” “When are we leaving?” I asked. “Well, we’re pulling you out of school next week. High school’s almost over for you anyways. Whats a few more days?” He saw that I wasn’t particularly excited. He leaned forward. “Listen, Alice. Our jobs depend on going to the Philippines. Our money will go up in smoke if we don’t. And,” he paused for effect, “we really don’t know how long we’ll be there. You have to come with us.” “Can’t you just switch banks? Work for another?” I asked. It seemed pretty simple to me. Dad’s face went white. “No. That’s impossible. I need to continue working my boss. I can’t just quit. If I did, all our money would go up in smoke, like a candle.” He brushed his hands together briskly, as to mimic the sound of a candle being extinguished. Don't be selfish. Don't be selfish, I told myself. My head nodded slowly. “ Alright.” “No arguments. Besides, it’ll be an adventure. Won’t it, honey?” He said, talking to mom. “Of course.” She flashed her white teeth. “So many interesting people. And you’ll meet Mr. Yamamoto’s daughter. Heard she’s a real dish!” Again, I nodded.My thoughts scurried from one topic to the next. I didn’t know his boss had a daughter. Paris this year. The beginning of my life would be postponed. I looked at dad, mom, then back to dad. His look was so hopeful, I didn’t want to disappoint him. I could wallow in self pity alone, not in front of them. I put on my best grin. The corners of my cheeks curved up. “Alright,” I said brightly. “I can’t wait actually. How are the beaches?” A big a lie as any, I supposed. Mom eagerly pulled out several wads of paper from her purse and handed them to me. I flipped through each one, finally ending on a poster for Bay View Hotel. It was tall, spacious, and almost reminded me of something I’d see in New York City, but had a slight Spanish feel, although I couldn’t point it out. Check my profile for the continuation

Asked By: - 6/17/2011
Best Answer - Chosen by Asker
This excerpt was very well written! Critiquing it is kind of hard considering I don't know what genre this would fall under but by reading it I'm getting a kind of a teen fiction feel. It sounds great like something I would definitely read. Keep up the awesome work!
Answered By: Ashley - 6/17/2011
Additional Answers (2)
Very good! Keep it up!!
Answered By: Cole Kinz - 6/17/2011
That's REALLY good! I would totally read it! And I'm gonna go to your profile! Hahah well keep it up! Good Luck! :)
Answered By: Hailey Winters - 6/17/2011
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