My Best Friend
My best friend’s name is Joseph Taylor, but he prefers to be called Joe. He does a lot of stupid stuff, and it usually gets him in trouble. The other day, while he was trying to impress some girls, he fell off his skateboard and broke his arm. Joe had to get his arm in a cast, but he told me it was worth it. He had already gotten three phone numbers from the girls he was trying to impress.
I always love Joe coming over to my house, because it makes my day more exciting. After he showed me his arm, Joe asked me if I wanted to go to the mall. “Sure, why not?” I said. I asked my mom for permission, and she said yes.
When we got to the mall, Joe wanted to get something to eat, so we went to McDonald’s. We got two hamburgers and two sodas, and then we went walking around the mall. For some reason, Joe always liked stealing things from the stores at the mall. I never understood why he stole the things he did. For example, that day he stole three key chains, five pairs of socks, and a t-shirt of a television show that he had never heard of. Joe always said the same thing when he got out of the store, “I love the rush of stealing!” I always looked at him, shook my head, and called him an idiot.
The worst was yet to come. When we were leaving the mall to go catch the bus, a security guard grabbed Joe and me by the shoulders and told us we couldn’t leave. The security guard took us to his office, and called our parents. I was worried because I knew my dad would yell at me. Joe, on the other hand, was laughing and was telling me jokes. When our parents showed up to pick us up, Joe looked at me, smiling, and said, “See you in a couple of months.” I looked at him, shook my head, and called him an idiot.
