What's on my clipboard #3 - first draft fiction

The following is an extract from my current fiction work in progress.
I've not written in the first person before, so this is really an experiment for me! The extract is a rough first draft, written in sprints, and totally unedited - so please forgive the wild leaping between tenses.

“Let’s take the stairs, it’ll be quicker,” Mum said. She was unusually quiet. We hefted the stuff up the first flight of stairs. I slammed the heavy suitcase down on the landing, panting for breath. I am horrendously unfit. I’m not fat; just feeble.
“This is, essentially, awful.” I said.
Mum glared at me. “Just get on with it, please, Katie. It’s not that bad.”
I looked at the small shoebox in her hands as scornfully as I could. We carried on up the stairs, getting increasingly sweaty and agitated until we reached the fourth floor. 

The door to the flat swung open, and standing there was a short girl with untidy hair.
“Hi!” she said. “Come on in! I’m Becky!” I rolled my eyes back and sighed.
“I’m Katie, and these are my parents.” I waved in the general direction of the only adults in the room. My Dad looked at Becky’s legs for a beat too long and then held out a sweaty hand.“Mike, pleased to meet you, Becca.”
“Becky,” she smiled widely, and held out her hand to Mum.
“Karen,” Mum said, distracted by the sunshine pouring in through the kitchen window, “Look at the light in here! Have you seen it, Katie?”
I’m getting impatient to see my room. “Yeah, lovely. What number was mine, Dad?”
Dad wrestled with the box and dug in his pocket for the keys.
“Two,” he said, looking at the keyring.
“Great!” Becky piped up, “You’re next door to me!”
“Oh good.” My will to live was being sapped away by my embarrassing parents and this relentlessly cheery teenager. “Shall we?” I gestured towards the corridor.

This piece was written by me, Ruth Sedar, and I claim all copyright and author's rights. Please contact me for further information.