Sure, here is a possible rewrite in your style of writing:

I was like, totally shocked when she said she wanted to see me again tomorrow. I mean, seriously? I just nodded and smiled, but inside I was freaking out. “Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I muttered, hoping she wouldn’t notice how scared I was.

I ran into my house and changed into my comfy clothes. I threw myself on my bed and buried my head in my pillow. What the heck was up with Sandra? She seemed nice and all, but there was something off about her. She gave me the creeps, and I didn’t know why.

The next day, I got up and dragged myself to school. I wanted to avoid Sandra at all costs, but she found me as soon as the bell rang. She was like, super excited to see me. She asked me to go with her to the new ice cream place in town. I wanted to say no, but she looked so happy that I felt bad. “SURE, WHY NOT,” I said, hoping that maybe today would be better.

We got to the ice cream shop, and Sandra ordered two huge sundaes. She started talking non-stop about her little sister and her crazy dog. I pretended to care, but I was really trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

Then it hit me. Everything about her seemed fake, like she was acting or something. The way she talked, the way she moved, even the way she laughed - it was all too perfect. It made me shiver, and I knew I had to find out what she was hiding. I hung out with Sandra for the next few weeks, trying to get to know her better and figure out what she was up to. The more we talked, the more I noticed that some things didn’t add up. One day, as we chilled in the park, I decided to call her out.

“Sandra, there’s something I gotta ask you. Why are you lying to me?” I said, feeling my heart race.

She turned white, and looked at me with a scared and sad expression. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “My life is not what you think it is. I’ve been in the witness protection program for the last two years. My family and I had to hide after my dad snitched on a big-time criminal. I had to make up a new name and stuff, and I can’t talk about my past. I’m so sorry for lying to you, but I had no choice.”

As she told me her story, I felt bad for her. Sandra was not who I thought she was, but now I got why. I took her hand and squeezed it, knowing that our friendship was built on lies, but hoping that the truth could make us closer.
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