"Did you clean your room Lebron James?" Coach asked.
"No" Libby replied.
"If you don't finish in ten minutes you do 10 laps around the whole street." Coach informed her.
"Coach! We live on a main road in New York. The street runs through practically the whole city!" yelled Libby.
"And?" said Coach.
"You don't see a problem with that?" Libby asked incredulously.
"What problem? By the way, seven minutes left" Coach told Libby blunty.
"WHAT!" shouted Libby.
"Six. You should probably start now." Coach said, looking at her watch.
Libby rushed to her room. She hated when coach got like this, but it couldn't be helped. She started to pile everything in the closet, be released if the door was opened, everything would come toppling out. She then stuffed everything behind the bed, at the angle her coach couldn't see from the door or closet. Just as she was about to open the door to her room, coach's head poked in.
"Ah! You are done. I guess you'll only have to do three laps." Coach said, smiling, yet serious.
"WHAT!" shouted Libby.
"I said that you would do ten laps if you didn't clean your room. I didn't say anything about no laps though" pointed out Coach.
Coach walked into the room and pulled open the closet, presumably checking to see if anything had be put into it. When she found it empty she walked to the bed. To late Libby released her cover was about to be blown.
"Nnnnnnnooooo!" she shouted in slow motion as she launched herself towards Coach, to late to stop the initial glance she had gottin of the pile.
"Lebron James" Coach said "I am so disappointed in you. You lied to me. I must teach you a lesson.''
"What lesson?" asked Libby, not sure she wanted to know
"Twenty laps of lesson" Coach said gravely. "Get changed and get out there"
YOU ARE READING
The Miserable Life of Libby James
RandomLibby James's life with her "Mother" Coach can be a little tough, but she can handle it. Right?
