Riding Wild

Chapter 1

I stretch and pull the covers farther over my head to block out the sounds of the city. When that doesn't help, I roll over and cover my face with my pillow. Finally I give up and get out of bed. I walk into the kitchen and pop a piece of bread into the toaster. I read the note my mom leaves for me every morning on the table.

Good morning! Have a good first day of summer with your friends! I will try to be home by seven.
Love, Mom

I smile and once I've finished eating I get dressed and brush my teeth. I pick out a pair of skinny jeans, a flowered, loose tank top, and tan ankle boots. I put my blonde hair in a messy bun and walk to the apartment door. I grab a black leather jacket and my purse, then step out into the hallway and lock the door.

We live on the eighth floor of our building. It's old and not updated whatsoever, but I like all the antique furniture and decorations. I ride the rickety elevator down to the lobby and text my friends on the way down. We decide to meet up at Central Park, then head downtown to shop and see a movie.

I'm the first one to get to the park, and I watch a pair of fat pigeons eat some seeds an old woman is scattering for them. I look up and see my friends Carrie and Emma attempting to sneak up and scare me.

We laugh and I hug them. "Anna! Happy summer break!" Carrie squeals. "Thanks! You too!" I reply. We walk down to our favorite shops, talking about this past school year. Emma tells me she's going to visit her cousins in California and Carrie says she and her sisters are taking a road trip in the south west. I smile, but I'm thinking about how my summer will be uneventful as usual.

We go to see a new horror movie, and get shushed multiple times for screaming. Afterwards we go to our favorite restaurant for lunch and decide to go over to Carrie's apartment. We play truth or dare; I end up with ice down my back and Emma gets yelled at by a police officer for waddling like a duck in a busy intersection.

By the time I start my walk home it's getting dark. When I get about halfway to my building, my phone starts to vibrate. I open my bag and pull it out. There is an unrecognizable number on the screen, but I answer it anyway. "Hello?" "Is this Anna Lawrence?" Starting to become nervous, I reply. "Yes. Why?" "I'm so sorry. Your mother had just been killed in a car crash."