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"Hey Mikey!" I called from my yard, "Wanna play some catch? My dad bought me a new baseball and gloves!" Mikey was in his yard, hosing down the lawn.
"Sure!" he dropped his hose, jumped over his picket fence, and landed on my yard. I ran backwards, and threw the ball at him. Mikey, who wasn't ready, didn't catch the ball, and it landed on his face. Blood trickled down his nose, and his glasses broke. In pain, he fell to the ground gripping his nose and letting all the blood seep through his fingers.
"Gosh, Mikey, don't be such a baby. Get up!" I ran over to him.
"Cass, you stupid ass! I think you broke my nose!" He got up.
"No I didn't, I just broke your glasses," I said, picking them up off of the ground. I looked at Mikey, he bent over to let the blood fall to the ground and not on his shirt.
"Gosh," I sighed, "Let's get inside. Just put some ice. Geez.."
"Cass, you're such an ass! Cass, you ass!" Mikey kept on saying. 'Cass you ass' was something I was used to. You see, I live in Belleville, New Jersey, where mothers taught their baby girls to be like Jackie O. But for me, I preferred to be Rosie the Riveter than some high-fashion whore. Girls in my class wore skirts, flower bracelets, and had their perfect, blonde hair in curls. I was different. I wore the same pair of pants everyday, I always had my brother's T-shirts on, and I had my straight, plain dark hair in a ponytail under my dad's red baseball cap. I was just another son in my family. And the way I got the 'Cass you're such an ass', was because I always got into fights, and played really rough in any sport. I remember one time in the 3rd Grade, we played soccer, and no one picked me to be in their team. So my teacher had to make one team take me. I was so mad, that when we were playing, I kicked the ball so hard into the goalie's nuts. And I went home with my mom scolding me. But I guess now, I loosened up a bit. I mean, I am maturing, I'm thirteen for gosh's sake.
When we went inside, I got an ice pack while Mikey went to go wash his face. He came back with a glare.
"it's just one nasty cut, and a bad bruise. No harm done. I've had worse." I said giving him the ice pack. He grabbed it and said, "Cass, I don't know when you'll ever know how to act more grown up." "I'm trying, Mikey. It's just not that easy." I replied.
Mikey was my bestfriend. We've known each other since we were tiny little babies. When I was three, his mother would always drop him at my place for our playdates. As time went on, we began becoming closer, and eventually bestfriends. I never had a girl bestfriend, but Mikey was ok. We'd share secrets, but like those girly, gossip type. Anyway, I wasn't interested in boys, so there was no problem.
After Mikey left, I sunk into my couch, and watched some television. This is me, Cassandra Costello, a tomboy next door. I wasn't your dreamgirl, I wasn't your supermodel, I was your tomboy.

The next day, to make up for Mikey's cut nose, I bought him the newest issue of Doom Patrol, and the new Smashing Pumpkins album and brought it to him. When I gave it to him, he was still in bed, reading some comics.
"Hey, Mikey." I came into his room.
"Oh, no, not you again." He said.
"Look, I'm sorry about your nose. That's why I went to the mall and bought you these." I tossed a paper bag next to him, and sat down at the foot of his bed. He finally got up and looked at the contents in the bag. After going through it, his face lit up as he took out the Smashing Pumpkins cd.
"Smashing Pumpkins? How'd you get this?" He asked.
"The mall, duh." I said.
"Wow, thanks. I think you're forgiven. This is really cool, Cass."
"Yeah, I know. I kinda felt bad yesterday after you left. And so I went out to try to do a 'mature' thing, and bought you these." I shrugged.
"Gerard's going to be jealous, don't you think?" Mikey said.
"Oh yeah." I replied.