Erik PieropanNC 1102T-R 8:00 AMSeptember 20, 2011

Paper One: Snapshots

The alarm clock rang early and we awake to begin our adventure filled day. My husband

Jeff and I got the kids all showered and ready to go. We set off for “Ohana” at the Polynesian

Resort. As soon as we entered the restaurant area, the smell of eggs, bacon, and biscuits filled the

air. The noise of tourist excitement became louder as we approached the dining area. The hostess

showed us to our table in the jam packed restaurant and the waiter began taking our orders. The

food came out after only a few minutes and we began munching away. I cut bite sized pieces of

egg and bacon for Erik as he was only 6 years old. Our first son Michael and our daughter

Lindsay, ages 13 and 7, were happily devouring their faces in the biscuits. Excitement grew on

their faces as Mickey and Minnie began to make their rounds.

The two characters approach our table after visiting a few others. Lindsay pulls out her

autograph book for him to sign and Michael pulls out his camera for a picture. Jeff and I take out

the video camera to capture Erik’s expression only to see pure and utter fear in his face. His eyes

were wide open and tear filled. Mickey went directly to Erik when he got to the table. Erik starts

burst out crying, throwing his eggs and bacon every which way. The plate gets knocked off the

table and shatters into pieces, while his meal splatters all over the ground. The entire restaurant is

now staring at us, everybody’s’ shocked faces tuning into the madness at hand. Mickey had clue

what to do. He was trying to calm Erik down but nothing was working. After what seemed like

millions of attempts to get Erik to stop, I finally take him out of the restaurant and up to the room

to calm down. Luckily for all of us at a later date, including Erik, we have the entire scene on

film. We always joke about sending it into “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” Who knows,

maybe it would win!

“Ring, ring, ring.”

The bell sounds as 600 half-asleep kids stumble into the main entrance of the school. As

usual, I show up to homeroom late and whip out my half complete math homework from the

night before. I race through my homework while glancing at the clock every five seconds, trying

to beat time. As soon as the bell rings, I just fill in random answers, hoping the teacher will

forget to collect it. The hallways had a rare buzz about them that morning. As I walk downstairs

for math class, all I see are an abundance of multicolored t-shirts, strange headbands, and

teachers with safety goggles on. Today was the day of the dodge ball tournament.

The annual dodge ball tournament in high school was an extremely big deal. Classes end

after lunch, when all of the students file into the gym. The teams all go sign in and wait for

things to get settled. Every team has their own distinct jerseys. We wore all black cutoff shirts

and black shorts. There were a total of 32 teams, consisting of 7 players on the team. Going into

the games, we were the favorite. Our squad consisted of 7 varsity baseball players, 3 of which

were pitchers. By far we threw the hardest and most accurately in the school, but there were

other teams that were very capable of knocking us off. We went in as the same team since we

were freshman and came away empty all three years. The previous year we had lost in the

championship, so we had a chip on our shoulder.

The stands were packed with all the students and the teams that were not playing at the

time. Chants of “overrated” were being shouted about. We opened up against a team of all

freshman girls. Easy to say, we knocked them all out in 2 minutes without any of us getting hit.

History repeat itself in the next game, beating a team comprised of the science department

teachers and then again against a coed junior team. We came down to our last man in the

semifinals, but manage to win.

We had made it to the championship game. All of the people in the stands came onto the

gym floor and surrounded the court. People began chanting the other team’s name, as they did

not want the favorites to win. We felt a very similar, deja-vu feeling to the one we had the year

before, but we knew we couldn’t finish short again. The whistle blew and we all ran up to the

line, grabbing as many balls as we could and running back. Balls began flying every which way,

with everyone jumping and diving on the floor. One by one, players were eliminated until it

came down to just me and two other kids on the other team. The crowd started chanting my last

name, although I don’t know if they were rooting for me to win or fail. One of my opponents

began to make his move. Being a first basemen in baseball, I had pretty good catching skills. I

knew if I had a chance to grab it in the air, the player would be eliminated and a player on my

team could come back in. He threw the ball and I pinned it against my chest. Our best player

comes running back on the court, I toss him a ball, and he hits the other kid in the shoulder. It

was over. We all jumped into each other’s arms like we had just finished the Super Bowl. We

had finally won.

As winter turns to spring, the closure of my senior year of high school quickly

approaches. The workload becomes less, the sun stays out longer, and prom season arises. Every

year, prom seems to cause drama and gossip to come about. This year was no different. My ex-

boyfriend Erik and I dated at the beginning of the year for about 5 months. We remained fairly

close friends after we broke up, but we soon lost contact all together. My close group of friends

and I got together one night, predicting who will ask who.

“Danielle, Jon is definitely going to ask you! Have you seen the way he looks at you in

math?”

“Haha, I don’t know. I don’t think it is like that. We are just friends.”

My two other friends look at me.

“Who is going to ask you, Madeline? Erik?”

“I don’t know. We were really close at one point, but it fell off a while ago. I just hope

somebody does.”

As people ask their dates, interest seems to arise on how these questions are posed. My

best friend Sally got asked on the morning announcements at school, Danielle got asked by a

note written on her car windshield, and I have yet to be asked. I began to get nervous and the

question of going solo to the prom began to pop into my head.

A few days later, I take to my after dinner homework like usual. I multitask between

calculus problems and Keeping Up with the Kardashians. After I finish, I lay down on the couch

to relax before bed. As time passes, I begin to hear strange noises. It sounded like constant

clanking and at first, I thought it was a ghost. After a few minutes, it stops. I return to watching

the television when my phone begins to vibrate. The screen reads, “Incoming Call from Erik

Pieropan.” Why would Erik be calling me at 10:30 at night on a Tuesday? I answer with a:

“Hello?”

“Hey! What are you doing right now?”

“Just watchin’ tv, what’s up?”

“Come outside.”

Click.

Erik abruptly hung up the phone. I hesitantly get up and slip shoes on. I open my front

door and my eyes lit up. The word “PROM?” illuminated my driveway, spelt out in individual,

small candles. I look over to see Erik standing there with roses. I instantly run over to him and

give him a huge hug. I said “yes of course!” and hugged him again. I ran inside to get my camera

and cell phone to take pictures. We talked for a while and enjoyed the moment. I was extremely

happy that he surprised me, and was now really excited for prom.

Rivalry games are huge no matter when they are played, but when the two teams face off

in the state tournament, it becomes a new level of hatred. In the first game of the upcoming state

tournament, we will be playing our county rivals, the Hoosac Valley Hurricanes. Being the

senior captain and starting point guard, I have a lot of pressure to succeed and get all of my

teammates involved in the offense. Luckily, we have one of the loudest and most intense home

crowds in the state, led by my best friend Erik. Throughout the regular season, he obtained the

nickname of “Superfan” and he takes great pride to it. He started the tradition of the student

section standing from the first whistle through the last even throughout halftime, and is the

source of many chants against the opposition such as “4 Plays JV!” and the home school

signature “Whose House? Braves House.” I hope he can get our crowd to a new level of

excitement in the upcoming tournament opener.

Game day arrived and the excitement grew in me as period after period went by. People

constantly gave me wishes of good luck as I walked from class to class in the hallways. A

seventh period study hall gave me a good chance to relax and shoot the breeze with Erik before

the game arrived.

“You nervous yet bro?” he says as we take our seats in the back of the class.

“Haha not yet man but I know I will be when the time gets closer.”

“You hear the master plan yet?”

Puzzled, I responded with a “no, what are you gonna do?”

“Haha you’ll see” he said.

At last it was time to go back to school to start preparing for the game. The players

usually show up an hour and a half before game time to warm up and get in the right mind frame.

As I pulled around to the back parking lot, I saw an unusual amount of people there for it being

so early. Once I parked and walked up towards the back door of the school, I couldn’t believe my

eyes. There were 4 trucks with the beds of them packed full of kids eating hamburgers and

hotdogs with music blasting. I saw Erik in the back of one of the trucks with his usual orange

construction helmet that he wore to all of the big games. I approach him and say:

“Dude, what the hell is going on out here?”

“Brett and I had the great idea to tailgate before the game.”

“You realize its 40 degrees outside?”

“Haha obviously. Go get ready for the game. I’ll take care of what goes on out here.

Good luck man.”

Erik kept the crowd elevated throughout the entire game, and we had won by 3 points.

Even though he wasn’t the one scoring the points, he had a big role in the success of the team.

Autumn ‘s endnote: I like how you use so much dialogue. I think you need to go through your

sentences and check for grammar issues. I also think there are times when you could stay in the

moment even more. Overall good job!