Creative Writing: Standing Up

Standing Up
I knew something important was going to happen. What was it? I pondered to myself. At 6:30 in the morning, I could hear my two little brothers’ feet, thundering against the hardwood floors, sounding like a herd of elephants. I sat up in bed, my arms stretching above me, and a lightbulb went off. Today was the first day of 8th grade! In one sweeping motion, I threw the covers off of me and practically leaped out of bed. I headed towards my desk where my clothes that I had laid out the night before were waiting for me. My favorite white USA shirt was waiting for me as well as my favorite blue jeans. I tossed my auburn waves of hair into a ponytail, opened the door and jumped down the stairs, ready for breakfast.
“Hey honey, how

You totally didn’t like it at all.” Mom walked over to where Dad was drinking his coffee, and planted a kiss on is cheek.
“Ewww!” Timmy exclaimed, “Gross.”
“Smoochy smoochy!” Dante followed in after Timmy.
Dad chortled. “Boys, what can you do?”
“Dad, you’re a boy too,.” I pointed out as I walked over to the sink to put my plate away.
“You got me there.” he just chuckled in response as he walked over to the coat closet.
“Mommy, I’m done!!” Timmy shouted, thrusting the plate in his little grubby hands to my mom.
“Same here.” replied Dante, copying Timmy’s movements and the both of them walked down the stairs in search of matching clean jackets.
“GUYS!” my dad’s voice bellowed through the hallways of our white house. “LET’S GO, LET’S GO!!!!!!!!!
“Coming.” My brothers shouted together as they bolted up the stairs, pulling their hoodies over their heads.
I tied on my worn out, faded white Converse, kissed mom and walked out the door, up the gravel steps. My dad started the ignition and turned to look at me in the passenger seat. “You okay?” he inquired. “8th grade’s kind of a big deal, so I wanted to make sure you are okay.”
“I’m good, Dad. You don’t need to worry about me.” I responded while leaning over to give him a