Magazine Competition Entry

There is a Short Short Fiction competition, and the deadline is July 31. My plan is to enter it with a story that I began in my creative writing class. It can be no longer than 3,000 words, and this story does not exceed that. The winners will be announced in September and there will be a monetary prize and publication awarded to the winner. The monetary prize would be nice since I'm still looking for a job in Dallas, but the publication is what I'm truly after. Get published one place and it's easier to get published in another. Ultimate goal - publish a novel.

Here's a piece of what I'm working on. Working title - "Keep the Ring"

I didn't know how to deal with school and my Mitchell. I loved him, but he wanted all the time I had. I figured that maybe if I made him understand just what I was dealing with in my classes, then he would get the hint that I needed some space.
He came over one afternoon while I was working on a big structural design project for an airport runway. It was a big project for one of my civil engineering classes, and it had my dinging room table covered with paper, books and coffee cups.
“Baby, I don't know what I'm going to do about this project,” I said as I threw my pencil down. “My group won't get together to finish it. I just want to scream.”
“It's going to be okay,” Mitchell assured me. “It can't be that bad.”
“It is that bad,” I insisted. “I've never had a group project with so many lazy people in my life.”
“Who's in your group?” he asked me.
“Bobby, Daniel, Melissa and Robert. Robert and I are the only two doing anything.”
I pushed some pages around and heard him shift positions on the couch. He leaned in closer and asked, “Robert? Your ex-boyfriend Robert?”
As I turned to look at him I felt all the questions he meant to ask me. I knew he was nervous about me being around my ex-boyfriends. Robert and I had a long history, starting back before high school. We went to every dance together, we spent all of our time together and he was my first kiss.
“Yes, but don't look at me like that, sweetie.” I took his hand. “You know that's over.”
“Does he still try to ask you out?”
His grip on my hand grew tighter. I tried to squeeze his hand back to show that I noticed, that I cared, but the hurt look was back on his face. I never knew how to make him feel that he was all I wanted.
“Every once in a while, but I tell him no. He's not a problem for you, don't worry.”
Even with those words, he pulled me a little closer to him, while keeping his grip on my hand. I didn't like this jealous side of him.
“Okay, I'll try,” he said.
“Good,” I said looking at him. “You know I love you.”
“I love you too.” Mitchell was staring at the ground.
He kept holding my hand without speaking. I turned back to my work but nothing could keep my mind focused on the perfect runway design. My eyes kept drifting to pictures of smiling faces, little angel figurines from my mother, and anything else in the room that pulled my attention away from my thoughts.