okay heres more....
Chapter 3~ None of it Matters
“Sydney? What are you doing here?” Michael asked with concern. He had come home with anxiety about Sydney all day. He felt so bad for her. All her old friends had totally turned on her. She was a loner and even her own father didn’t care anymore.
Sydney sobbed, “I’m so sorry Michael, but you were the only one I could come to. I really don’t know why I came here. I shouldn’t have. I just…” she paused, “did.”
“Seriously, don’t worry about it, “he said in a caring voice, “I feel really bad about what happened in school. The girls are really mean and rude. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”
Syd knew that what he said was true.
“It’s just, I feel like my mom wanted me to do bad, she did this to me on purpose. And every answer on my paper was correct, the teacher just graded them wrong. Look,” she handed him the paper. The red 47% shown brightly.
“We all have our off days. This is nothing; did you see my social studies report? Now that was bad.”
“But a 47%! That is horrid! I could do better on a swimming test,” she said interrupted by Mike again.
“And let me guess, you can’t swim?”
“How’d you guess?” she said sarcastically.
“It was only a quiz grade, it doesn’t matter. We’re in 7th grade, none of this matters!”
“It matters to me when friends that loved and cared about me now disregard me and spread rumors.”
“They aren’t your friends; none of your friends would ever have done that to you!”
“I thought you would help, but you didn’t! Thanks a lot,” with that sarcastic word Sydney stormed off into the darkness of the twilight.
Mike was left alone also. He wasn’t sure what made her mad. He hadn’t really said anything that should have made her upset.
“Michael Vaughn, where have you been?” asked a concerned mother with a slight French accent.
“I was just sitting outside right here,” replied Michael. (A/N: its really weird calling Vaughn, Michael. LMAO.)
“Well come in here, you have to do your devoirs and take a shower.”
“Mom, we are in the States, its homework. Not devoirs.”
“Well we need some culture in this house. With your father gone we need some remembrance of the old house and of him. He used to always speak French to you.”
“Yeah, I know. Je vais faire les devoirs.” (I’ll go do my homework.)
“Okay honey, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
“Sure mom, whatever.”