Cover




Prologue

I have always wanted a better life, and I figured, to have one, I would have to work. The problem is, I am lazy and would consider myself a couch potato. It has always been a dream of mine to land a big job in New York City as a model or a fashion designer, but right now I'm stuck in Salt Lake City.
My name is Cameron Parke, and I don't really want to say where I live because the FBI might hunt me down for all the wrong I've done. Well, I'm in 6th grade and, I think I'm the 16th or 17th most smart in my class. Before you try to pick on me for being dumb, just look at Barry Grossman first. Then see if you still want to pick on me. I would say I am normal, like any other kid, but I am different in, let's say, a different way. Oh, and, just to let you know, I didn't want to do this in the first place. My snob of a mom says I have to push myself past my expectations, and to me, that rule doesn't really apply to my type of personality. I must say, though, I am a pretty good writer. I just don't think I'll be a writer like J.K. Rowling or Rick Riordan in my olden days.
Okay, let's cut to the features. I am 5 foot 6, which isn't that bad in my point of view, and have dirty blond hair which drapes over my face while I head to school. My mom says I need a haircut, but what do I say? No. I don't need that type of short-hair humiliation in school anymore. I remember last time, but I don't really want to talk about it in this book. Maybe in my next book (which I would be forced to do by my Mom) I will say what happened. But for now, NO.


Chapter 1: School

I woke up first by falling out of my bed into the hard wood floor. You may ask why I have so many bruises, and this is why. Thank goodness I do fall out of bed early enough to prepare for school, because I have no other way to get up. The thing is, on weekends, I still fall out of bed at the same time. And I can't go back to sleep.
I brushed my teeth and changed. My tangled hair was fine with me, because it wasn't frizzy like yesterday.
It smelled disgusting downstairs. Just to let you know, my mom is a BAD cook. You wouldn't want her to cook for you at a party or something, because most of the people WILL end up vomiting by the end of it. I decided to make my own breakfast, and soon I was headed off to school.
My bus stop was like... totally far away from my house so I would like have to leave really early just to get there. I don't understand why my mom can't just drive me to school. I get so tired just walking up to the bus stop I have to bring a water bottle. But today, I shouldn't have. My bottle sits in a pocket that loosely hangs under a zipper, and I didn't realize it started spilling until I sat down on the leathery cold seat of the bus. My shorts were wet, and this stupid boy named Jack noticed. That was the beginning of my humiliation for the day.
Jack teased me about how I wet my pants, but I had a different story. I told him that my water bottle spilled on me, but he just wouldn't take it. If you tried to explain this to anyone in my school, none of them would take it either. I guess this is just how it is in school.


Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 21.03.2010

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Widmung:
This book is dedicated to Mom and Dad, for pushing me on to do my best.

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