Shoot for the Team

Chapter 4: The long ride

I wanted to commit myself to jump rope and being on our TV show. In order to do this, I told myself that I would never miss a single practice again. Ever. This wasn't too hard, because I love jump rope. I thought this would never be a problem, until my worst day ever.
The following Thursday I had practice, as always. I was looking forward to practice all day. But it was a long day. It started out with a math test. I forgot that I had a math test that day. I didn't even think it was the day after or something. I just completely forgot. I did terrible. I couldn't focus, and I had a headache. I thought I failed that test.
Then I had to write an essay in English class, and I had to present my book report(which you think I would love, since I like being the center of attention, and I usually do like presentations, just not today).
My dad was at work, so my mom decided to take us to the park after school. When I thought things we're finally settling down, Matt tripped and fell of the slide. My mom came to his side, comforted him, and drove us home.
My mom put dinner in the oven, her world famous homemade casserole. It smelled really good. Then after a few minutes, I started to smell something not so good. In fact, it smelled terrible, like gas and burnt food. My mom and I raced to the kitchen to see what was going on, but then it was too late. My mom opened up the oven, and a cloud of grey, smelly smoke rose into the air. I choked on it. Then we saw a bunch of oil or something and pieces of Mom's casserole all over the oven. The dish was broken in half. And that's when my mom just about had it.
"There's no way I'm driving you to jump rope tonight, Missy! I have to much on my mind. If you wanna go, then you'll have to ride your bike!!!" And that's exactly what I did.
"I'm going anyways," I said. "I'm riding my bike I'll see you in four hours. "
This was a lot easier said than done. I lived in a small neighborhood near Coronado, about 8 miles from my school and jump rope. I knew my mom was just saying this to get to the point that I wasn't going to practice, but I was going to prove her wrong.
I got on my bike and strapped on my helmet. My jump rope bag hung from my back. I walked my bike out the door. Right before I left, my mom ran out the door and yelled,"Wait!" Oh no. She wasn't gonna be a good mom and stop me now because it was to dangerous, was she. "Take my phone with you," she said. Oh. I got it. She new I wasn't gonna make it, and she wanted me to call her to come pick me up after about a mile of riding. "Ok," I said.
I walked out the door and got on my bike. I rode down the familiar passage of our street, and then down our neighborhood. I rode to the main road, and made a sharp turn on to the main road, and turned on to the bike path.
Now for the hard part. Eight miles of long, boring road. Whatever. I could do it in an hour. I peddled faster to get to practice in time. I looked down at the ground, and noticed that there were numbers down on the ground. numbers that showed how many miles to get to Coronado.
8 more miles. I peddled harder. 7 more miles. 6 more miles. 5 more miles. I was so tired. My legs were sore and sweaty. "Just keep going. You can do it," I told myself. 4 more miles. I looked at my watch. Practice would be starting in 20 minutes! I had to hurry. I sped up. 3 more miles. I stood up on my bike to go faster. My wheels turned. And for a second, I was out of control. It took me a minute to realize my chain fell off, but by then, it was too late. I whirled off the track and crashed into a sharp bush. I flew off my bike and fell face forward onto the dirt. I landed on my left wrist, and it hurt really bad. I started to cry. Blood dripped from my face. I discovered a cut on my forehead. Then an angel appeared, in the form of my dad coming home from work.
He pulled over. "Are you ok? You don't look too hurt. Get in the car. I've got your bike." I got into the car and fell asleep. And the worst part was that I never made it to practice.