I found this old story that I wrote about two years ago--I read it, liked it and decided to post it to the website...now keep in mind that I'm still writing the Beatles "I'll Send All My Loving To You" but I thought this would be a good little story.
When I stepped out of my house I only had two things on my mind the Beatles and a soccer game. My names Avalon but people call me Avi. I never really got my name I think it sounds like a lame girl’s name from the seventies. Like those girls with huge glasses with a big wad of tape in the middle and those checkered skirts. I’m one of the goody two shoes at school. All of my teachers like me. Especially Mrs. Winslow my math teacher. She is the most beautiful teacher I’ve ever seen. But the problem is she barely talks to students and people think she’s wrong in the head. I don’t. I think she’s perfect. Almost everyone in school knows my name though. I’m very talkative. I never get in trouble, weird huh?
Anyway I headed for the car, my sister carrying her pink spotted soccer ball. Being pouty as usual. She slammed the door right as I tried to step in to the car. I turned around noticing my shirt was caught in the door. I knocked on the window of the car my sister opened it with a swift move of her hand smashing my face in to it. There I sat on the floor a bruised head and my shirt half ripped. But I didn’t really care. I’m not too big about fashion and all that crap. So I made a scowl at her as she shut the car door again. I decided to go around. I opened the door and sat down on the leather seat.
“Ready to win today sweetie?” My mom said, pulling down her car mirror putting to put on makeup.
“As always,” my sister gloated spinning the soccer ball around on her finger.
She was the youngest in our family. My big brother Martin was fourteen. He was at my neighbor’s house because he didn’t want to come. I don’t blame him. Who would want to come to one of my sisters soccer games?
“Hey Avalon think the blue team’s gonna’ win today?” She laughed clutching her ball beneath her arm.
“Oh shut up Julie. And I told you not to call me that!” I frowned.
Well as I always do I got out my I pod, plugged in my headphones and started listening to the Beatles.
We got there in about twenty minutes. The car ride hadn’t been too good. I got too pissed about my Sister gloating so I slapped her on the leg and she started to cry like a baby. Believe me I’ve gotten worse hits than that. My dad parked and we all got out and headed up to the field.
“Hey Avi I bet I’m gonna’ score!” My sister said slapping me in the back sending a jolt through me.
“I bet you are you little-”
“Now Avi don’t use bad language.” My dad scolded.
I just shrugged as we headed up the hill.