I sat there on the edge of the floating raft, and stuck my tongue out.
“No way am I going anywhere until you put that chicken back!” I was seven years old at the time. We were on my old hometown lake, and my dad had caught a chicken he was going to cook. That was the start of my activism career.
I knew I’d go places, being so against animal abuse and all. But I never thought I would meet a boy quite like him. Derek. His name rolled off my tongue like the sweet taste of candy.
I was walking down the hall, when I realized he was looking at me. I stopped and pretended to search for something. I wasn’t exactly searching, more like scanning the boy’s figure. He was tall and thin, but had some muscle on him. He has shaggy brown hair that fell onto his dark rimmed glasses. He smiled. Derek could tell I was looking at him.
“Oh my god Aren, you are so slow!” Ching yelled. He’s my best guy friend. “Get in her or he’ll have your head!”
“Later Aren.” I heard Derek remark as I ran off.