Ben

I paced impatiently through the living room. Richard was late. Late again. He found this most infuriating. No big questions about why he was late - he'd probably overslept again, as had been his custom for about the past ten years.
'For God's sake, sit down!' snapped my dad, lowering his paper slightly so that his eyes just showed over the top. 'You're testing my patience to the limits with all your pacing.'
I pulled a face. He didn't think his father had ever been to a football match this exciting, let alone any football match. He wouldn't understand anyway.
Finally the bell went. 'Hurray!' I cheered. I raced to the hall, snatched my scarf and coat from its hanger, shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, raced back to the living room, pecked Mum and Dad on the cheek and raced out of the door, slamming it behind me.
'What took you so long, man?' I shouted in the direction of Richard - well, that is, what I thought would have been where Richard was standing. The person standing in front of me wasn't Richard. In fact, the person didn't look a thing like Richard. A girl was looking at me with raised eyebrows and a haughty look in her green eyes.
'What are you staring at, ginger,' she spat. 'I ain't got nuffin' if that what ya want.'
Great. Now I would have to deal with this undersized specimin and explain to her that I had mistaken her for a friend of mine with whom I am going to a football match. I looked up at the girl and saw her clearly for the first time.
She was very confident, I thought, for a girl this young. She looked about eight. She was quite short. She wore raggedy jeans which had been patched up way too many times and a patchy raincoat which was much too thin for this time of year (which was winter). She had a thin, clever face and long, black hair that reached all the way to her middle and looked as if it had never met a brush in its life. I looked down and noticed she was not even wearing any shoes.
'Are you deaf?' she sneered at me.
I started. I was annoyed at Richard for making me wait yet again.