My computer teacher––hi Mr. S!–– told me I have to talk about who Gen is before I slack off on doing the actual writing for this assignment. So let me see: Gen is 13. She and Ashley and I are best friends. We all just finished eighth grade. Gen and I are on the soccer team together––we’re full backs. Ashley doesn’t play soccer because she’s scared of balls flying too close to her face.
Mr. S. said that wasn’t enough, so okay, here’s more about Gen:
Birthday: September 18
Sign: Virgo, but I will tell you she thinks signs are a little dumb
Hair: Brown, long, mostly in a ponytail
Style (Ashley is fashion-obsessed so she made me put this in): But Ash, Gen doesn’t even have a style!! Just kidding, Gen, in case you ever read this. Gen wears jeans every day and t-shirts she thinks are funny. She’s pretty but doesn’t wear make up or anything.
Okay, more about Gen:
Music: She isn’t that much of a music person. She really loves the Beatles. She has a lot of classic rock on her iPod.
Favorite joke: Gen still thinks it’s really funny in soccer practice when out of nowhere someone pulls someone else’s shorts down. (FYI she gets really mad when someone does it to her.)
Favorite subject in school: Gym. After that, English.
Favorite movies: High School Musical 3. Just kidding! She loved Bring it On. Blue Crush. Twilight.
Favorite show: Veronica Mars
Relationship status: Single
Siblings: Gavin. He’s 10. Pasty and pale. A video game addict. When we have sleepovers at Gen’s he sits outside the door, eavesdropping.
Gen’s most inspiring moment: This past spring our soccer team was looking like we might go undefeated, but in the last game of the season, at halftime, we were down 2-0. Gen looked at us each in the eye. She gets this face on when we’re in a game, and she had it on now. “Let’s DO this,” she said. And that was it. But I felt so pumped up––everyone did––and then we won!
Last time I saw Gen before she left for Camp Frontier:
The night before she left––school wasn’t even out yet. She was packing. Her blue Speedo bathing suit hung on her closet doorknob. When I said, “Don’t forget that,” she burst into tears. Apparently, at this camp, if she was going to swim, it would be in some kind of a stream and she’d have to go in her underwear as bathing suits hadn’t been invented in 1890. Whoah.
Here's the first post I got from Gen. It came on the first day they were at camp:
Help! I'm dressed up like an American Girl Doll minus the fashion sense. My sleeves are so tight I can't lift my arms above my head. Is this the new me?