Young Writers Society

I walked down my high school hallways with my sweatshirt down. I wanted everyone to see the damage that Dustin did to me. I was wearing a spaghetti strap shirt which made it easy to see the bruise. I no longer had any feelings for him, except hatred. I didn’t even see him in school, but that didn’t matter because I knew that he attended every boy’s lacrosse game and tonight there was one.
My brother is a senior and he has yet to know what happened. I didn’t want him to know or else Dustin might never be able to walk again. There was an up and down to my brother being very buff and over-protective. The ups usually consisted of being by my side, being able to back me up, and to protect me from jerks like Dustin. The downs usually consisted of having all his friends interrogate every boy I talk to, making me change my cloths before I leave the house if he thinks I’m showing off too much of my body, and hurting people that matter to me. My brother was 17 and 6’3. He was the center middie on our high school’s boy’s lacrosse team, and was best in County just like my father. So he was obviously going to be at the game. “This should be interesting.” I thought as I exited the building and made my way to my car.

I still haven’t talked to Dustin about why he did what he did. I was going to find out for certain what it was tonight at the game. I wanted a clear answer. I am so angry for what he did, just pushing me into a table made everything worse. My depression increased according to my counselor, I’m not allowed to play lacrosse and field hockey until my pain recedes, and now my parents don’t want me anywhere near boys. They claim they’re too violent for my “innocence”. Whatever that means. But there are some things I noticed. Like how many people care. As soon as Dustin touched me, so many boys that I didn’t even think I knew started walking up, fists clenched. My one friend Shafer is at my side all the time now and girls in my grade are always trash talking Dustin as he passes by.

When I pulled into my drive way, I automatically pulled my sweatshirt up over my shoulders before turning the ignition off. I sighed and got out. “Celia!” I looked up and saw my brother’s friend, Trevor, walking over. Trevor was buff just like all of my brother’s friends were. He had buzzed hair and olive colored skin. His eyes were grey and he had a dimple appear on his left cheek every time he smiled. Trevor always reminded me of a cute little bear, even when we were kids. I quickly smiled and let him embrace me in his arms. I winced at his touch to my shoulders and he instantly retreated. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders.
“Nothing, just a sore muscle.” I halfheartedly smiled. When that left dimple appeared, I knew he believed me. He wrapped an arm around me and led me inside.
“Coming to the game tonight?” He asked as I went to grab bottled water.
“Yeah… 5:30, right? Against River Hill?” I asked while pouring my bottled water into a glass.
“Yes. Excited to see me play attack?” He smiled as he nudged me. Before I could respond, my brother walked in, dressed in uniform ready to leave.
“Oh, hey C. Coming with us? We’re all going in Trevor’s pick-up.” My brother asked his lacrosse stick over his shoulder. ‘C’ is what he called me for short.
“We?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, Erik and Cory are here too.” I rolled my eyes to my brother’s response. “Well, we’re leaving now. We have to stop and pick up some more players and shit before the game.”
I guzzled the rest of my water and placed it in the sink, “What the hell.” I shrugged before making it out the door.

I sat on the bleachers with Trevor’s girlfriend, Sara, my brother’s, Annie, and my best friend, Natalie. “Come on Greg!” I screamed, “This is your ball! Let’s do it again!” My brother walked out onto the field and knelt down in front of his opponent, ready to face off.
“Hey, have you seen Dustin tonight?” Natalie asked me in a soft voice. I glanced at her,
“No… why?”
“He’s hiding.”
“…hiding?”
“Under the bleachers. He doesn’t think anyone can see him. What a baby.”
I rose from my seat and made my way down the ramp and walked under the bleachers. There sat Dustin, still angry.
“Dustin… we still need to talk-” I started before he interrupted.
“Fuck off!” He spat out as he came towards me.

I like your story a lot, but some of the grammar is off and you switch between past and present tense a few times, making it sound strange. Like you can't say, "I am so angry for what he did..." but also have "asked" and "didn't want him to know". It just sounds odd.

Huh? Haha sorry I'm lost.