I will not make up stories
I will not make up stories.
I will not make up stories.

How ridiculous, I thought. People make lots of money making up stories. Just because Mr. Ballsworth doesn’t approve shouldn’t mean that I have to write this 100 times. That’s like twelve sheets of paper. Hasn’t he heard that it’s in to be green. Save the forest. Save the trees. Use less paper.
Something tells me that he won’t care. Besides, how does he know that I’m not a soccer star in the United Kingdom? I could be. Alright, that probably is unlikely.
"Aren’t you done writing yet?" asked Erich Hoffman, my supposed best friend, who was really starting to irrate me.
"No, I’m not done writing. If you could count to one hundred you would probably realize that it takes a while to write that many sentences."
"Well, dude, I know I said I would wait for you, but this is taking way to long. Recess is going to be completely over by the time you finish."
He is great at pointing out the obvious.
"I’m going," he said, "If you get done, you know where I’ll be."
I knew. Under the big oak near the swings and the fastest slide on the playground. He’s probably going to see her and I’m not and that makes me more angry.
After all, Sarah Bodine is the prettiest, smartest and best soccer player in the entire school, or at least the entire fourth grade.
Dang. Why did Mr. Ballsworth have to hear my UK story. This is going to take forever.
With less than five minutes left to my glorious recess, I hand Ballsworth my 14 ½ sheets of paper and he says, "Looks like you won’t be going outside today, William."
He only calls me William when he is seriously annoyed with me. Considering that it is only 11:30 and I’m trapped at South West Intermediate School for another four hours, this is not a promising sign.
"Did you see her?" I asked Erich, while everyone was trying to find a seat and quiet down.
"Oh yeah," he said, "and she asked about you. She seemed very concerned that you weren’t there."
"Really," I said, before realizing how saturated his comment was with sarcasm.