"Harper!!!" My mom called from the living room.
I sprint down the steps, sliding to a halt in front of her. The rug catches under my feet, bunching up in an obnoxious place. Mom waits for me to straighten it out before I even have the opportunity to ask her what's going on.
She's holding her hands behind her back, a sneaky smile on her face. "Yes?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Happy Birthday!!!" She yells.
Oh right... I'm turning 15 today.
She pulls her hands from behind her back, holding a small pink gift bag.
Must be an awful present, my least favorite color is pink.
"Thanks?" I ask. "What is it?!" I sit down on the hardwood floor in front of her, ripping the matching tissue paper out of the bag.
At the bottom, a pink, folded article of clothing sits.
I pull out the fabric, and unfold it, taking an extra second to examine it. A pink, polka-dotted dress, is bunched up in my hands, with a frilly skirt and sleeves.
"Thanks," I say, plastering a wide smile onto my face.
My style is totally different from my mother's. She loves to get dressed up and go out with her girlfriends, while I like to hang back and watch the game in my sweatpants with dad.
"You don't like it," She sighs, folding the tissue paper into a stack.
"It's not that," I protest, shaking my head at her.
Yes it is.
"It's for your first day! 10th grade..." She trails off.
"Thank you mom," I smile, standing up to hug her tightly. The best thing about my mom is she's so understanding. She may not have the same style as me, but she appreciates that I have different taste. Even though she sometimes likes to push her sense of style onto me.
I grab the bag and the tissue paper, tossing it all in the trash except for the dress, which I decide to just toss in the back of my closet.I'm not a girly girl at all. I want to play baseball. I want to wear converse and baseball caps, without being judged.
I sigh and jump up onto my bed, crossing my arms behind my head. The countless throw pillows and stuffed animals surround me, providing a sense of comfort.My mom decided on a good color for my walls, at least. A light gray color, splashed all over the walls, almost 50% of the wallspace covered in photos and posters. I put all of my baseball posters, that my dad buys me, up on my ceiling. That way, no one can see them except me.
I wake up, the sound of the Teapot screaming, making me groan. Once my feet hit the floor, I immediately wish I was back in bed. It's too early. Way too early.
I head to my closet. There's barely anything I want to wear in it.
I find a pair of white shorts, and a Baseball Tee with red sleeves. I pull my hair out of my face in one swift motion, tying it with the hair tie I keep on my wrist.
"HARPER!" My mom calls over the sizzling of the stove in the kitchen and the overall hustle and bustle from around the house.
I groan, "Coming!!"Grabbing my converse, and my red backpack, I run down the steps, breakfast awaiting me.
I grab two slices of toast, and spread butter on it... a little too generously.
YOU ARE READING
The Sandlot
Action"You play baseball like a girl." That's exactly what Felix Mccormick said to Harper Quincy, 'baseball queen' as her friends like to call her. Of course she plays ball like a girl. She is, in fact, a girl. Harper has been living in Georgia all...
