The Original Macaroni and Cheese Story

Chapter One (of two)

~~ *Yawn*. Ugh... another night gone and another boring day to look forward to. 16 year old Isabel chanted to herself as she threw her green leopard print comforter off her body.

Isabel looked around her bedroom; book shelf neat, clothes folded, dresser in order. She stretched her long, thin arms over her head as another yawn erupted out of her mouth. As she rubbed her eyes, she saw a glimpse of her Pooh Bear alarm clock; 9:06.

Oh no! She thought. I'm late! Isabel jumped out of her bed and ran to her ivory dresser. She pulled out a random shirt and jeans and slipped them on as she combed a brush through her long, pin-straight, auburn with jet black striped hair. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she saw that someone had switched off her alarm clock. She had checked, twice, that her alarm clock was set early. Now she was going to be late for tennis practice!

Isabel groaned as she flew her tennis uniform into her dark blue, Nike, gym bag. She stuffed her tennis shoes in her bag and slipped on her red and black flip flops as she grabbed her car keys off the kitchen counter. The girl hurriedly put her hair up in a quick pony and grabbed a bagel out of the bread box, deliberately ignoring the box of macaroni and cheese sitting next to it.

Isabel ran out of the baby blue house, locking the door behind her and quickly hopped in her coco brown '67 Mustang, and started it. She drove to the tennis courts by her school, Ryall High, and parked in an open space. She slipped out of the faux leather seat and zoomed into the girl's locker room. She quickly changed into her blue and silver tennis uniform, and changed into her white sketcher sneakers before grabbing her racket and jogging outside and into the sunny courts.

"Izzy, you're late!" fumed the angry voice of the tennis coach, Natalie.

"I know, Coach, I know! My little demon brother, Mark, shut off my alarm clock this morning!" Isabel began.

"No excuses! You're always late!" Coach hollered, "Be late again, and you're off the team."

"But...but Coach!"

"No buts! You're always late. And not only does that affect you, but it also effects Heather! She can't practice until you, her partner, get here. And those days you don't show up, what of them? What is she supposed to do for those days? Hm?"

"Pfft, She can just practice with all the money her daddy has." Isabel couldn't help notice the low chuckle that escaped Natalie's mouth.

"..Don't be so mean, Iz." Coach twittered after she had gained the composure she had lost during those few seconds. "Now, go practice with Heather."

Isabel groaned and walked over to a jabbering Heather. She was talking on her pink, razor cell phone to someone unknown.

"Oh my gawd! ..yea! ... Then what?! ... You have to be kidding!" Heather yacked in the high pitched voice she was known for.

"Oh my gawd! I'm not. Now get your scrawny butt out on the courts," Isabel mocked. Heather scoffed and snapped her razor shut; her newly manicured nails shining in the sunlight. Isabel just rolled her eyes and walked over to their court. She took her position and swung her racket underhand a couple times for practice.

When Heather got in position, Isabel bounced the small, neon green ball a couple times with her left hand; the racket in her right. At last, she served.

Isabel threw the ball up and brought her racket slamming down on the tennis ball. As the ball zoomed toward Heather's face, Isabel saw it slowly, but surely, change direction. After it completed a whole 180 degree turn, it moved with twice the speed, directly toward Isabel's face. Even with that, the tennis ball was not done changing.