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Chapter 1
A Story Ends But A New One Begins
My dark brown hair brushed against my face as the cold fall wind sped faster and faster. I didn’t notice though, because I was in the middle of writing my newest book:
Angelina sprinted away from Luther, afraid. But Luther inched closer.
“Angelina, they’re all rumors!” Luther shouted, the cold rain spraying across his face.
“I don’t care! I heard what you said!” Angelina screamed, throwing rocks at him.
Luther just stood there, frozen in shock by what Angelina said. Could she? WOULD she? He didn’t care though, because she was already running away from him. He didn’t know it then, but that was the last he would see of Angelina.
I stared at the page in surprise. Had I just FINISHED my book? I couldn’t believe it. The book I’d been writing since 5th grade, finished on my first day of 7th grade while walking to school. Unbelievable. I hadn’t even decided a name for it yet. But I had made a list of possible names. I flipped to the last page of my notebook where I stored the 10 ideas for my title and I scanned them carefully.
1. The late night howler
2. The hidden life of Angeline Dartwin
3. How I met Luther Howling
4. The Werewolf Pages
5. Behind My Back
6. Full Moon (I crossed out this one because I already read Twilight)
7. Angelina and Luther, A pair or Apart?
8. What he said
9. The Sacred Secret
10. Nobody knows the story, or the secret
I pondered at each of the names. All of them were good, but not great. I decided that maybe my new middle school lifestyle would help me come up with a good, no…great name for my book.
Boy was I right. (Note: At VERY end make sure to have her make up the perfect name for her book)
Now, before I skip to the end of my exciting year, I need to tell you how it happened, and what happened. But before I even tell you all of THAT, I need to tell you who I am. I’m a great writer like that.
First off, my name is Kylee. I’m 12 years old and I’m going to West Ohio State Middle School. It’s my first year there, even though I’m in 7th grade. Usually, 6th graders go to middle school, but my school delays it until 7th grade. It all pays off because we get lockers and my backpack is half my weight, and that’s not because I’m a short 4’’11 and a thin 89 pounds. It’s because I heard a rumor about teachers giving us home work every night and I’m a particularly gullible person. I couldn’t wait to go to middle school anyway, because I want to impress my friends and peers with my straight A’s.
I also thought that middle school would be the most disappointing, miserable year of my life.
Boy was I wrong.











Chapter 2
Meeting The Populars
I tried to brush away the fear and the nervousness as I entered West Ohio State, and I did, until I saw HER. HER with her designer clothes, fancy floral handbag, perfect long, blond hair, and pretty glitter pink eye shadow. I couldn’t help it, but I compered her to myself. I took out my notebook and opened it to a fresh new page and drew a line down the middle. On one side I put my name Kylee, and on the other side I put…wait, I didn’t even know the girls name! Why was I comparing her to myself in my first fifteen seconds of middle school? (Note: At the end put part about how she looks at notebook page and puts Tina’s name and does the same comparisons for both of them, ‘cause they really are the same…it doesn’t matter about looks)
I slipped my notebook back into my backpack and walked right past the girl with her perfect everything. Pathetic! That’s what I kept thinking, but then I saw two girls and two boys crowded around her, talking…or rather, gossiping. One of them had light brown hair drawn into a tight ponytail that lifted lightly above her head and then drooped down to about her neck. She had tons of mascara on too. It wasn’t hard figuring out her name because she slapped a sticker right down on her back pack that said PAYTON H. TESS. There was a guy next to her too, but I already knew his name since he was in my class last year.
I gave a little wave and said “Hey Erik.” He gave a sideways smile and nodded my way as I walked past. “Hey Kyle.” People always called me that boy’s name since if you take away one e it looks like Kyle. I ignored it though and leaned against the wall. I turned around to get note-book out of my backpack and write out detailed descriptions of my new subjects-a very good writing exercise- when I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around with my book gripped tightly in my hand, and saw Payton glaring at me. I gave a little smile.
Jealous much? I thought.
Payton kept glaring at me until Erik slipped his arm around her. She leaned in and they…well, you know.
I shielded my eyes by writing down Payton’s description (very detailed, by the way) and moved onto Erik’s.
Erick Glenwood
Light Brown Hair that lies down on his face like un- even bangs (even alfalfa hair would look better)
Hazel eyes that looks like he’s wearing contacts (I should know, he wore glasses last year)
Wears baggy clothes, even baggy pants (UCK!)
Had dirty, worn out Nike sneakers last year, now has brown Crocs
Wimpy arms
KYLEE BRIDGEWATER 
The reason I put my name at the end of every entry is because (no it’s not a diary,) someday, when I’m extremely famous for writing (or at least SOMETHING!) and then I’ll die (famously,) paparazzi will come invading my house, dying to get a little treasure of me. They’ll find this notebook and:
WORST CASE SCENARIO:
They will adore all of the writing and start interviewing people from my childhood. At one point, they’ll start interviewing people that hate me (like Payton) and she’ll say: “Oh, thank you, thank you,” While FAKE crying and dabbing her ‘so called tears’ with a ‘so called tissue’. (Oh, maybe I got the tissue thing messed up) She’ll say: “That’s mine! I gave it to my dear friend Kylee as a birthday present.” But the paparazzi will decline and say that we were enemies. “Oh, no. She wasn’t very fond of me, actually.” Payton would reply. By then the paparazzi would believe her, and she would be a famous writer for the rest of her life no matter what junk she wrote. All because my name wasn’t plastered all over the thing.
BEST CASE SCENARIO:
They will adore all of the writing and begin wondering who wrote it, when they notice my name on every single entry. Long story short, I will still be famous even though I’m dead!
I sighed and remembered about the other girl I saw. The first thing I noticed about her was that she was short. Even shorter than me! But only by 1 or 2 inches. She had the fluffiest brown hair, almost down to her hips! I hated to admit it, but her hair flowed down her head like a chocolate mile waterfall or something. She looked prettier than the girl in the middle, who was obviously the leader.
I forgot all about the chocolate-milk-hair girl when I saw the guy next to her. He had spiky brown hair and large blue eyes. He looked like he didn’t play football, like the other guy I saw. He had a basket-ball jersey on instead. My heart fell when I slid his arm around chocolate-milk-hair’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. I cringed. The whole PDA thing was still gross to me.
=33
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So...how do you like it? PLEASE give me suggestions, they can be a little mean (ex: The writing was a little choppy, i would suggest maybe putting in some transitions), but not REALLY mean (ex: You fatty oaf! This writing is more uneven as the Rocky Mountains!! >:(>) Thanks BUDDDIES!!