ANDY

      The boy's height matched the height of a teen, male model.  Andy leaned his straw, shaped body against the 65 Volkswagen.  The canary, yellow vehicle rested untouched in the driveway.  Slouching his almost non-existent back, Andy glared down at his nicked-up skateboard.  He tapped the skateboard constantly with his worn-down, blue, converse tennis shoes.
     "Hey, what's up man?"  Mike, Andy's best friend greeted him while parking his 88-Mustang partially on the sidewalk in front of Andy's house.
      "Hey, Mike.  Same old, same old," muttered Andy.  His unusual, deep voice did not fit a sixteen, year old boy.  Andy began stripping threads off the man-made hole of his faded, blue, ragged, Levi jean's.
      "They gone yet, Andy?"
     "Yeah.  Mom said they'd be back in about an hour," answered Andy.  His thin, lips curled up into a smirking grin.
     "Lets do it," shouted Mike.
     Andy dug vigorously into the right, pocket of his all year-around, black-leather jacket.  With hands similar in size of his large feet, Andy pulled out a set of keys.  The two, teen boys each raised one hand.  They connected their hands together in a high-five slap.  Afterwards, they jumped into the 65 Volkswagen.       Andy lowered his oblong, head.  He jerked it back quickly, removing his sandy-colored, shoulder length hair from his mild-acne, boyish face.  Andy tried starting his car.  He wrestled with the gears, pounded the dashboard with his fist and the car started!
     Andy backed the car carelessly out of his driveway.  The 65 Volkswagen's tires screeched helplessly on the street!  The retched sound of the transmission gears being stripped, forced the vehicle to a halt!  The car died within forty yards of its resting ground.
     Andy exited the car.  Perspiration from summer heat taunted his pointed forehead.  His beady, blue eyes squinted to the face of his leather, wristwatch.  Andy jumped back in the car.  Mike jumped out!  He took brief steps to the back of the car.
     Andy began wrestling with the gears!  He constantly wiped sweat off his forehead and his long, rounded, tip nose.  The car started then quickly died again!  Mike struggled pushing the car from its back end.  Andy continued fighting with the gears!
     Finally, the fight was over!  The two boys won!  The 65 Volkswagen was back in Andy's driveway.  Andy's lengthy, legs climbed out of the compact car.  He peeled off his hot, sticky, leather statement and tossed the jacket on the hood of the exhausted car.  Once again, lowering his oblong head, jerking it back quickly, Andy cleared his hair from his face.  His once reddened face, faded back to pale white.
     "Man, I got to go," nervously informed Mike.  Mike began revving up his 5.0 liter, dual overhead-cam, V8 engine.
     "Yeah.  They'll be back any minute," said Andy.  He snatched up his leather, companion and tossed it over his narrow, shoulder.
     "Later," said Mike while increasingly speeding off in his 88 Mustang.
     Barely reaching down, Andy picked up his aging, skateboard.  Once again, Andy swung his sandy, colored hair.  Glancing down the street, he saw his mother's car.  The car was slowly approaching the house.  Sharply turning his head and body into a pivot, Andy rushed into the house!