The most embarrassing moment of my sophomore year was how I earned my nick name, Crash. It all started right after school when I turned on to the busiest street by the school. First I pulled up right behind this truck at a stop sign. After a second, a fellow older student told me that I was really close and that I was going to hit the truck in front of me. At the moment I was trying to tell the kid that I was giving a ride to get back in the car because he was hanging out the window. Since I was distracted, I thought the long line of traffic had started to move, but it hadn’t. In the blink of an eye I hit the back of the truck in front of me. The devastation sunk in. I was so worried that I damaged the truck, but all that I did was scratch his bumper. Lucky for him! Then it came time to look at my car. My car was ruined. The hood was buckled, the front end was pushed back, and my headlights were broken. Humiliated and scared, I still had to drive my totaled care home. During School that year, I never did hear the end of what had happened that day.