I need to know so I can get tips and stuff on how to write like it.
“Mom, I’m back,” I called, walking into the house. Patrick closed the front door behind him, adjusting his book bag strap. There was a faint reply from one of the other rooms, and I walked into the kitchen, going to the fridge first. “Soda?”
“Sure,” Patrick said. I grabbed two cans for us and headed up the stairs mindful that my dad wouldn’t be home for awhile. That was good, considering he always brought up some ridiculous comment that suggested Patrick and I were an ‘item’. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. As cliché as it sounds, I view Patrick as some sort of sibling, or something like that. It’s not a sibling thing really, but I mean to say that we have nothing going. Never have, never will. I know he feels the same, though there was a brief incident back in our sophomore year. He came up with a whole stuttering speech about how he felt something more than friendship. It all just made me laugh, which
2006-06-10
17:09:51
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1 answers
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dahamu_626
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