life is just a phase i'm going through

An Unpublished Story (Ricky)

Book: Calling All Creeps!

Summary: Ricky's first story for the newspaper is an unpublished one.

Based on this passage:

Do you know the first story she asked me to write? She asked me to count the dirt patches in the playground and write about why grass didn't grow there.

I knew she was just trying to get me out of the office. But I wrote the story anyway. It's hard to write a good story about dirt patches. But I did a really good job. My story was five pages long!

She never printed it in the paper.

When I asked her why, she said, "Who cares about dirt patches?"

"Dirt patches?"

Tasha McClain typed furiously in the keyboard in front of her, immersed in her computer, a frown etched on her face.

"Dirt patches?"

A bit of her curly red hair fell in front of her face. She seethed slightly as she pulled it back in place.

"Dirt-"

"Ricky, are you going to do the story or not?" Tasha snapped. She slowed her typing, but didn't look up from the computer.

"Why do you want me to do a story about something as boring as dirt patches?" I cried.

"If you don't want to do it, that's fine," said Tasha, a smug tone creeping into her voice. "You don't have to join the writing team if you don't want-"

I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to get rid of me.

She had just assigned me to write a story about the dirt patches on the playground and why grass didn't grow there. I had joined the school writing team a few days ago. I needed the activity points so I could graduate from sixth grade. But the head of the team, Tasha, seemed to have something against me.

Actually, the whole school seemed to have something against me. I'm not sure why.

I mean, look at me. I'm normal. Normal-looking. A normal student. Normal person. Nothing to run home about, but nothing to revile at in disgust either. If you squinted a little, you'd even almost call me cute, right?

Okay, let's not get sickening.*

"No. I'll do it," I interrupted. "When is it due?"

Tasha finally looked up, slight surprise in her eyes. "Next Monday," she said flippantly.

Then she busied herself with typing again.

Very polite.**

"I guess I'll leave now?"

More typing.