Don't Judge a Book by its Cover... Open It
             She crossed the room and took the seat behind me. It was our first class of high school. We didn't know each other at all. All I knew was that I didn't like her. She was a punk; I was a judgmental prep. She was kind; I was not. Scowling at her in her band shirts, converse shoes, and torn jeans, I wasn't entirely interested in becoming friends with her. What I didn't realize then, was how big of an influence she would be in my life.
             Amanda and I had most of our classes together. We sat by each other in some classes, and we often paired up for partner work. She seemed calm and boring to me, unlike the rest of my crazy friends. One day, she invited me to join her on her Saturday morning bowling league. I like bowling; I thought it sounded fun and agreed to it. The next Saturday, I showed up at Meridian Lanes and met up with her. There, I met her family: her mom, dad, and brother. They were very kind and I started to like Amanda more and more as she loosened up and let her personality show.
             Amanda and I are very rare, odd people. Both of us have the same exact sense of humor. I don't think there's one other person in this world that has the same sense of humor as us. She may have appeared calm and boring when I first met her. I was really wrong. She's a psycho just like me! We soon started hanging out outside of school and our bowling league. We went to movies and we began crashing at each others' houses. One night, when Amanda was spending the night at my house, she pulled out her c.d.'s. I wasn't entirely excited to hear her music. In fact, I laughed at it and said they all sounded the same. She burned me some c.d.'s even though I shot down her music. However, I fell in love with one of them, and I slowly slipped into punk rock.
             I looked up at the dark ceiling as I lay on Amanda's floor. ...