The Party

June 1, 2010
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The last bell of the day on Friday finally rang. I walked out to the buses with my friends. I climbed on to mine and said hello to the driver. I walked to the back where I took my seat with my friends. We talked and laughed for a half hour before we, at last, made it to my stop. I got off and walked home with my next door neighbor.

I walked in to the house and my mom said hey. She asked me what my plans were for the weekend, and I told her that I was just planning on going to see a movie and get dinner with some friends. I knew that is not what I would actually be doing. Some other friends of mine were throwing a party, and I was planning on going. I knew that my mom would not let me, so I had to lie to her.

On Saturday night, a few of my friends came over to get ready for the party with me. I told my mom that they needed a ride to the party, so they came over to hang out with me for a bit. A half hour later, my friends and I left the house and piled into my car. I technically wasn’t supposed to be driving with friends yet, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to me.

We got to the party after about ten minutes of driving. Inside there was a whole bunch of people all crowded into the basement. Music was blasting and a whole bunch of people were drinking. I wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol, so I just grabbed a soda. I joined a group of friends and started dancing.
After a few hours, I realized my mom would start wondering why I wasn’t home yet. Just as I was thinking that, I felt my phone buzz. I was just about to answer before I realized that the loud music at the party would tip my mom off. I stepped outside and answered my phone.
I answered my phone. My mom asked why I wasn’t home yet; she assumed that the movie would have ended by then. I told her that my friends and I had decided to just walk around a bit. It was getting to summer time, so the sun was still out even though it was getting late. She told me that that was fine and to have fun. I hung up the phone and walked back into the party.
A few hours later, I left the party and drove home. I walked in through the front door to see my mom waiting for me. She was furious because I was coming home so late after my curfew. I told her that I was real sorry—I said that my car had broken down. I said that I had tried to call home, but nobody answered. I had to try and fix the car myself, but that took a while. I came home late because of that.
Luckily, my mom bought my story. She never found out that I had lied to her and gone to the party that night.

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