The only problem with calling Bebe fat was that I now didn't know where Nichole lived. I decided to go over to somebody's house and cry like a cool kid. I went over to the first house I saw. I rang the door bell. The minute I saw the door open I thought about if somebody cut off all my hair and sobbed so hard.
"HELP!!! PLRS!!! I DON NOT KNOW WHERE NIIIIIIICHOLE IIIIIIISSSSS!!!" "Clyde?" I recognized that voice it was... my mom. "Ew, mom! Go away! You ain't cewl!" I yelled in her face and turned away with my arms crossed. "Clyde, why do you need to find Nichole?" My super uncool mother said. "Oh my god mom, can't I have like a bit of privacy? Jesus!" I yelled as walked down the stairs. "Later hater!" I told her as I turned around, snapped my fingers and fake hair flipped. As I was strutting my stuff on the sidewalk I realized something, I didn't need to find Nichole, because I new the address of somebody better.
YOU ARE READING
Tyde: The Story of Us
FanfictionI will tell it to you straight: I did not try at all on this.
