My friend likes to write but won’t let anyone read her things to get feedback. So I took a little paragraph from her story and I was hoping somebody will give their opinions on it? Please it’ll help a lot. Be as mean as you like :P

“’You have to show him the wallet! It’s all we have!” I searched frantically for the beat up leather wallet but couldn’t find it. Dean must have checked the rear-view mirror and saw the cop get out of the car because he started to help too. I kept looking but it was impossible to find it in the mess of papers that covered Dean’s car.
“You find the wallet I’ll stall him.” Dean said while opening the Jeep’s door. Some of the papers blew out in the breeze. I searched under the seats while the door shut leaving the papers still. I moved the papers around glancing at them as I did.
“How’s it going officer?” I heard Dean say through the cracked window. I picked up a half burnt “Twilight” book and the wallet fell out from it. Twilight dropped from my fingers and I fumbled over to the driver’s seat.
“Your taillight is out. Did you realize that son? Your driving has been reckless for about three miles now, let me see your license.” The officer barked at Dean while adjusting his sunglasses. The officer was pudgy to say the least and had a thick brown mustache. He wore a hat that shaded half his face and sunglasses that reflected a person’s soul. Dean just shifted uncomfortably and looked back at me. I nodded and got out of the car.
“Here you go sir. Sorry Dean’s kind of stupid when it comes to keeping track of things.” I said and handed the wallet to the officer. One car passed us and spit dust in the air. The dust put everyone in a coughing fit.
“Dean huh?” The officer coughed through all the dust. A small gust of wind blew all the dust away leaving two cops pointing their guns at us. Dean moved closer to me and I raised my hands. “This license says your name is Al Sherman. Al Sherman is a convicted killer who escaped two days ago. Put your hands in the air!” The officer spit and slowly moved closer to us.
“How much trouble can I get in for punching a cop?” Dean whispered in my ear while slowly moving closer to the car.
“Six months in jail? I think why?” Dean began kicking up dust like crazy. My eyes started to water and I couldn’t breathe. I heard Dean’s fist meet the officers face. A loud thud rang through the air which meant the officer had been knocked on conscious.
“Get in the car!” Dean said as he opened the door. I climbed in and then he did. He shut the door and put a gun on his lap. A gun, the officer’s gun. We we’re screwed. The cops think Dean’s a convicted now escaped killer. That makes me a partner in the whole thing. We we’re going to jail for life. We would get the electric chair for sure. Dean revved the engine and then we were flying down the road.
“Is there anything else you want to do? Actually kill someone with this stolen gun? Or maybe we can rob a bank! Or impersonate the President?” I yelled at him with tears in my eyes. I just want to go home. I want my old life back before I ever met Dean.
“I’m pretty sure we couldn’t pull off being Barack Obama. No we’re not doing anything like that. We’re just going to find the convict and get my wallet back. Then I’ll take you home okay? It’ll be easy! Plus those cops looked dumb as f*** so we don’t have to worry about anything.” Dean said as he turned the radio on. The song “Bad Boys” blasting through the speakers. Dean thought I was the crazy one?