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Michael


            The road, littered with construction on a rainy day like this, makes it almost impossible for me to drive home from school; I can barely see the street in front of me. The brown van with rusted paint causes a huge splash in front of my car, forcing me to panic and to hit a hard break. I am able to pull my car to the shoulder lane. There is no way for me to drive in this kind of weather, so I figure I should stop somewhere and wait until the rain stops pouring down. It is already 3:00 p.m. and the rain has not stopped. I hate when it rains, especially when the thunder clashes. Usually, with this kind of weather, my best friend, Michael, and I would sit for hours in front of the television and watch old movies. It has been quite a while since I have had contact with him. We both decided to take some time apart to pursue our dreams, but we will meet again in exactly six more months. .
             It's funny when I think back to the first time that I met him. The memories I have stored in my head seem so clear, as if I have just met him yesterday even though it has been three and a half years ago. It was in mid of June 1998, when a group of my girlfriends and I decided to go to this small, local park named Charlton Park. It was a cloud-less, sunny day; when we all decided to go to the park to catch some fresh air. A group of five girls, including myself, are all in shorts, jogging around the park and having a good time. As we bypassed the tennis court, while jogging, the girls decided to play tennis, the sport I don't know how to play, instead of jogging. I didn't like the idea of playing tennis, but it was a vote of four against one, so I had to acquiesce to the idea. Instead of playing tennis, I sat in the corner of the tennis court looking at them. I was bored to death. Out of nowhere, I saw a short guy with spiky hair walking toward me. Along his side was a tall, skinny, angry looking girl. Her face looked as if she was trying to pick a fight with me.


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