The Struggles of Being a Teenage Wife

Chapter 1

My best friend explains to me over the phone why I'm a sad excuse for a high school graduate while shrieking something about school spirit.

"Whoo! Go U-Dub! Ok, sorry Emma, I'm here at an orientation event and it's pretty awesome!" Lor's talking so fast she sounds silly because I'm just here, sitting on my couch, watching some sitcom.

"But," she continues in a whiny voice, catching her breath, "why aren't you here?"

I take a sip from my lemonade to try to cool myself down from the hot Los Angeles weather. An "all-record high-temperature today folks!" they said on the news this morning. Why wasn't I there with Lor, at a college pep rally, having the time of my life? Oh yeah, simple as–

"I didn't even apply there." She scoffs.

"You didn't apply anywhere, that's the point! You were valedictorian of our class! You could have had your pick of any college you wanted. Like... Stanford." I sigh, and try to change the subject quickly.

"Yeah, so I could be the outsider just like in high school? Remember, I was the "child" taking AP Calculus." The ambient noise on her end starts to fade. She must have walked to a quieter spot. Oh no, that means I'm probably going to get another lecture or motivational talk or something like that.

"You weren't an outcast or a child. Don't be so dramatic."

"I was sixteen when we graduated. I'm barely going to be seventeen in a few months! I wasn't even old enough to sign my own diploma request form." Now she sighs.

I continue. "It's better I wait until I'm a little older. I just want to fit in, maybe actually be a legal adult," I say as I prop my feet up on the coffee table.

"All I'm saying is, I think you should be having a little more fun than you are now. It seems like you're bored as hell. Besides, I miss you."

"I miss you too, and... I'm not totally bored. I'm... doing something very interesting and... important," I add more confidently this time while changing the channel to a more sophisticated documentary about stem cells. Not Food Network.

"I'm researching things."

"Yeah, sure you are. My point is yes, you're young, but you're not a child. Do something more amazing than just volunteering at the aquarium, like you always do."

My mom suddenly walks through the front door, startling me. Wasn't she supposed to be working? I immediately take my feet off the coffee table and straighten myself out. She left earlier without so much as a 'good morning' and she never returned my texts. Something is wrong, and my suspicions are confirmed by her sunken eyes and defeated demeanor.

"Lor, I–I gotta go." I don't even wait for her reply before ending the call.

It's just me and my mom now. I think she took my dad's death the hardest, which I thought was pretty selfish because she shut me out for months. He died almost a year ago, and within two months she was already packing up the house to move to where we live now. She couldn't stand to look at his stuff or anything that belonged to him, and I hated her for it. This new normal without my father is starting to feel just that, normal, until today. I hadn't seen her look this upset since she cleaned out my dad's closet.

"Emma, I need to talk to you," she says, sniffling, and sits on top of the coffee table in front of me. She does that a lot, sit on the coffee table as if she can't sit next to me, sit on the same level as me. She always has to be just a little higher, and right in front of me, so I can't look away. She's young to be my mom, but this past year she's aged so much.

I turn off the TV and look at her, signaling that I am ready to listen.

"I don't even know where to begin. I–I can't bear all this–this death–"