Contest with Teen Judges!

I couldn't resist this one. Brenda Drake is hosting a blog fest with four teenage judges. They're reading the  35-word pitch / loglines and first 250 words of each entrant's WIP, and choosing which one they'd buy. The winner gets a synopsis and 10 page crit, which is so perfect for me, since I'm really worried about my synopsis-writing skills. :)

Now, if I understand the rules right, you get to help me fix my entry before it is judged on the 20th (when I will post it to the entry site). So please feel free to be candid and brutal. I like winning more than I like compliments and I'm perfectly capable of ignoring advice I don't agree with. :)

Without further ado....

35-Word Pitch:

Humans are used to pixies, but human-pixie hybrid Brina will have to leverage her differences to understand her heritage, slow the flow of illegal dust, and win the heart of a certain charming Midsummer ass. 

UPDATE: Based on all the wonderful comments, I've flipped things around a bit. The original (246 words) is below, followed by the revision (249 words). Please comment on whether the revision fixes the problems, introduces new ones, and (if it comes to that) which you like best. Thanks so much!!

First 246 words:

The magazine cover taped to her locker hadn’t been torn carefully, and a jagged gash ripped halfway through Brina’s right wing. As if she needed help looking ridiculous.
Brina stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and forced herself to breathe. Stretched her lips into a slight smile. Pressed her head to the side, as if she were pondering a pleasant surprise. Ignored the churning in her stomach.

Soon, she’d be able to shove her feet forward. 

Brina knew better than to go out in public looking less than her dubious best, but she’d been running late after her workout, and hadn’t even bothered to grow to human size first. Instead, she’d left her backpack and schoolbooks with Moira and rocketed out the palace window toward home and her mom’s birthday party. 

The first flash had come from off to her left and, like an idiot, she’d twisted toward it. Which is how the photographer’s zoom lens caught her: eyes opened wide, long braid slicked back from her face with her own sweat, and limbs sticking out at startled angles from her workout tank and short-shorts. All of it glowing softly brown in the dusk. 

As a special bonus, this particular picture had captured the moment her four bright white wings had frozen in shock, sending her plummeting a few feet downward. The resulting portrait could have been entitled “Freak, Falling” but instead the headline proclaimed: “Human-Pixie Hybrids: The Last American Taboo.” That worked, too.

Revision (249 words):

Brina knew better than to go out in public looking less than her dubious best.

She knew it, but figured hurrying home for her mother’s birthday party would merit a special dispensation of luck. She didn’t even bother to grow to human size first, but left her purse and car keys with Moria and rocketed out the palace window toward home.

The first flash came from off to her left and, like an idiot, she twisted toward it. Which is how the photographer’s zoom lens caught her: eyes opened wide, long braid slicked back from her face with her own sweat, and limbs sticking out at startled angles from her workout tank and short-shorts. All of it glowing softly brown in the dusk.

As a special bonus, the magazine’s cover photo had captured the moment her four bright white wings had frozen in shock, sending her plummeting a few feet downward. The resulting portrait could have been entitled “Freak, Falling” but instead the headline proclaimed: “Human-Pixie Hybrids: The Last American Taboo.” That worked, too.

Naturally, it was taped to her locker first thing Tuesday morning. The cover hadn’t been torn carefully, and a jagged gash ripped halfway through Brina’s right wing. As if she needed help looking ridiculous.

Brina stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and forced herself to breathe. Stretched her lips into a slight smile. Pressed her head to the side, as if she were pondering a pleasant surprise. Ignored the churning in her stomach.

So what do you think? How can I make it utterly un-put-down-able?