Dispatches from a Teenage Girl

Chapter 1

I've never had a lot of good stories to tell. I am not sure my life would be of much interest to anyone else. I've lived in the same house my whole life. Had a lot of the same friends my whole life too. It's all pretty typical, high school girl. I've never been arrested. I've never gotten so drunk at a party that I don't remember getting home. I actually don't go to parties much.

Brown hair, brown eyes. Average height and weight. Well, maybe I am a little taller than average, but a little in a way that it's almost the average amount to be taller than average. My boobs are a standard size, my bum sticks out just a tiny bit. Overall, there isn't too much exciting going on over here.

But I think I do have something to say. High school is coming to an end. Well, after this year, my last year. I have a lot of plans for my senior year, I'm going to make it count.

"Lucy, I'm leaving in five minutes. If you want a ride, you better get moving."

"Coming Mom!"

It's my second last day at my summer job. It's been the least glamourous. Not tanning in a lifeguard chair, not earning tips in a trendy restaurant or brewing coffee at an indie café. Nope, I took a responsible job as a receptionist at a dentist's office. It's definitely my MO, "responsible". And it certainly has been boring. Greeting patients, booking appointments, answering the phone. I have learned a few things. Like how to put a call on hold. And merge spreadsheets. Life skills, you know.

My mom works in the same building as the dentist's office. She's a paralegal. That's how I got the job, actually. She overheard the dentist talking in the elevator about his receptionist wanting to take the summer off and he wasn't sure what to do. So my mom, always with a brilliant idea, suggested hiring a high school student, her daughter, to take over for two months. And after she sold that in, I really had no choice but to take the job.

I guess I can't complain in that it's been very low stress and everyone is nice.

But when I get a coffee on my break and see all these stylish and good looking people hanging around the counter and lounging outside this adorable and super cool cafe, I have little pains of jealousy deep in my belly. I envision my life could have been so much more exciting. Spontaneous bike ride adventures after a shift, stumbling upon a daytime park party and then checking out an indie band playing in a backyard, snacking on organic kale chips and Snapple.

Instead, I remain a dentist office receptionist and Covert Coffee customer. After almost two months of daily trips, I finally got the nerve just last week to strike up a conversation with the barista. "What's up?" I said. It was groundbreaking dialogue. He replied, "you know, same old, same old."

But now that I've started the conversation, every day I need to think of something casual to say that isn't too intrusive, is not lame and, also not what I said the day before. This causes me far more stress than it's worth.

But the barista is quite cute, in that skinny and messy adorable way. His hair is always unkempt, but also perfect. At least I assume it is as sometimes it's under a beanie. And yes, I know it's summer, who wears a wool hat in the summer? But I can forgive him this illogical fashion choice because it looks so good on him.

"Lucy, I swear, I will leave without you."

***

"Okay kid, I'll be back here at 5:15 to drive you home."

Well obviously, as she is each and every single day of this long unforgiving summer.

"Ya, ya, thanks mom," I mumble.

"Don't be rude honey. You'll miss me in a year, I promise you that."

I am not so sure. I am pretty pumped to be a real life grown-up living on my own.