A/N Hey guys!I've thought of this idea for a while, and there is only one fanfic like this by Olympian814. In the Percy Jackson section, they do "reading the….." a lot, and I thought "Hey, why aren't there Sammy Keyes fanfics like that?" so yeah. Well, read and Review my fellow fanfiction buddies!
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Sammy Keyes or the book: Sammy Keyes and the Wedding Crasher (represented in bold). It all belongs to my favorite author Wendelin Van Draanen and Random House.
Sometimes, the craziest things happen on the most ordinary days. This point was proven on the Monday of fall break for both William Rose Jr High, and Santa Martina High. Each one of Sammy's friends were at their house with nothing to do, especially Sammy.
She went down to the police station out of boredom to see if there were any criminals lurking the streets. Instead, she found Officer Borsch looking through packages, some small and some large.
"What are you doing" Sammy inquired as she walked up to his side.
He jumped a little, but then turned to face the small 8th grader. "Don't do that Sammy! You're going to be the death of me! As for your question, just sorting out some packages." He answered, continuing to separate them with ease.
"Well, I can see that," She retorted with a smirk. "But what are you sorting, you know, like its contents?"
"Oh." He started to get red in the face. Sammy laughed on the inside at how easily she could make the Borschman embarrassed. "Just some police business. New radios and some evidence that's being transported over here from the Santa Luisa police department. Pretty much anything that anybody decides to send us, but that's what majority of this stuff is."
"Oh." Was all she could say as she continued to watch him sort through the packages.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" He questioned when he turned to look at her.
"Officer Borsch, are you trying to get rid of me?" She smiled. "And no. I don't. I don't feel like going to East Jasmine to see Marissa, Dot's dress shopping for her aunts wedding, and Holly is working at the Humane Society. So, I came here, hoping to find something productive to do." She picked up a package and twirled it in her hands and set it down. "Looks like I didn't accomplish much."
Officer Borsch chuckled and responded, "Well, why don't you help me sort some of this stuff. It'll take less time with two people."
Sammy hesitated, and then agreed. "Sure. I have no life."
As Sammy and Officer Borsch organized, they were silent. She wasn't sure if it was because of their new friendship, or because there was nothing to talk about. The silence was broken when Sammy picked up a rectangular package, like majority of the packages. It was medium sized and hard. She got Goosebumps as she flipped this package in her small hands. She read the small print that was written on the brown packaging. It read:
To Sammy Keyes and friends. Rejoice for the world will know your story.
What the crap? "Umm, Officer Borsch?" She questioned, unsure," look."
She didn't know what to say so she handed the strange package over to him so he could examine it. And that he did when he grabbed it. He read silently, then responded. "Well, I believe this is for you."
"Well, yeah! Duh! Why else would it have my name?" she exclaimed.
Officer Borsch smirked, used to her antics. "So… take it home. Open it. Why it was mailed to the police station, I have no idea. But it's yours so, go ahead."
"Fine. Maybe I will!" she grumbled as she snatched the box from Officer Borsch's meaty hands. Sammy muttered things "like stupid box", and "why won't you open" as she attempted to open the package up. Finally, she managed to rip the cardboard apart.
She pulled out a book with a yellow three layer cake with two tiny people on it and a heart surrounding them in the top left corner. Next to that, on the right, were a gray, plastic dead mouse, and a dog tag that said die dude. Then, on the bottom in a row was a skinny girl with a striped shirt, a big fat dude in a do rag and circle glasses and a boy with a chicken hat. Her mind was going a million miles an hour. This all seemed familiar. The rat, the die dude dog tag, the chicken hat, the biker dude, the wedding cake.
"It can't be!" Sammy muttered as she studied the illustrations. Her fears were confirmed when she read the title.
Sammy Keyes and the Wedding Crasher, by Wendelin Van Draanen.
A/N ta da! I know I'm not the best creative writer, I'm more of a persuasive essay type of girl, but I wanted to give it a try. I would really appreciate some tips on how to make my imaginative writing better. Thanks for your time! I'll update as soon as I can! Oh, and Happy Easter to you all. I guess I'm a little early. But oh well! :D