Before I can finish, she walks away leaving me feeling down and terrible about myself for the second time tonight.
 
 Man, I'm just on a roll.
 
 It's times like these where I wish I could just have Mr. Terrip by my side. He's really great to confide in.
 
 He actually makes it seem like he's listening.
 
 The lady from before returns to me a few minutes later telling me that the shop is closing and that I need to leave.
 
 So here I am, walkingbackdown Red Street thinking about how I'm going to break it to my father that I don't have his moonshine or his money.
 
 My eyes drift back to the bench where I met that man who didn't want to have a milkshake with me.
 
 It's truly a shame on him, I would be a great milkshake-drinking buddy, at least in my opinion.
 
 I still kind of want to meet him here again though. Of course I do. I'm all about second chances.
 
 First impressions tend to make or break any type of relationships. That's my issue, I need to work on my first impressions on people.
 
 I probably won't ever see him again.
 
 Technically, I didn'tseehim.
 
 I saw the outline of his body and the sound of his voice. Hisgreatvoice.
 
 I need to stop. He literally said three words that were slight insults.
 
 Get ready for a lot of talking tomorrow, Mr. Terrip.
 
 ? ♦? ♦? ♦? ♦? ♦? ♦? ♦? ♦
 
 First chapter: Done.
 
 Thank you for choosing to give my book a chance!
 
 Just for future reference, you'll learn more along the way :)
 
 *Not edited*
 
 Word count: 3111
 
 -Ashlyn Montgomery
 
 Chapter 2: CIA Spy
 
 ?Azalea?
 
 I pull into my driveway and dread fills my thoughts. The lights in the house are still on.
 
 I turn my car off and hop out.
 
 Maybe, just maybe, they won't be mad. Maybe they just forgot to turn the lights off before going to bed.
 
 I find myself wishing to be talking to the mysterious guy from earlier and not walking into my house.
 
 I carefully and slowly open up the front door and walk in as quietly as I can. From my side, I hear the sound of a clearing throat.
 
 Both my mother and my father stand in the kitchen, beer cans in their hands and empty ones strewn over the counters.