I awoke to the cheery faces of my family and friends.
“Happy birthday!” my best friend, Allison shouted, spraying a tube of Silly String all over me. I groaned in disapproval and rolled over, dragging the blankets over my head. I’d finally gotten the blankets all the way over my head only to feel them ripped off of me. I hear the sounds of shuffling feet and then my bedroom door closes, signaling that either everyone left, or that just my family left.
“You have to get up now.” Allison says, throwing my blankets onto the floor, along with the sheets I’d tried to pull over myself.
“What time is it?” I ask, squinting my eyes against the harsh sun shining through my open curtains. “Like five?”
“No, it’s actually twelve, now get up, Aspen.”
“No.” I mutter and roll back over to face the wall. “Shut the curtains.” I say, holding my arm above my eyes.
“Aspen,” Allison says, “I’ll tell your brother to come push you off your bed if you don’t get up by yourself.” She threatens. I don’t move or say anything. I hear her walk over to my door, open it, and begin to call my brother, Dillon’s name.
After an overly exaggerated sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand, wiping sleep from my eyes in the process. Allison screeches and runs over to me, engulfing me in a hug.
“You’re 17!”
“Yay. Can I go back to bed and sleep until I’m 18?” I ask. She drops her arms from around me and steps back, narrowing her eyes.
“No chance. We’re going shopping after you spend some time with your family.”
“At the mall?” I ask, immediately getting excited. “I need a new skate—”
“No! Don’t even say skateboard, you’re a girl, Aspen. Girls don’t skateboard. They watch boys skateboard.” She says, saying ‘skateboard’ as if it were the name of a foreign disease.
“And you’re the reason all teenage-girls are considered ‘basic white girls.’”
“Not true at all. I just think girls should wear dresses and not—well, not those.” She says, pointing to my closet where my ripped skinny jeans were thrown. I was told to hang them up or fold them into nice piles, but I just threw them onto the floor and didn’t think any more of it.
I scratch the back of my head and roll my eyes. “Just because you’re a stereotypical teenage girl doesn’t mean I have to be.”
She sighs incredulously, “will you ever change your mind?”
I think for about five seconds before responding, “Never.”
--
Turns out, my family had thrown a surprise party for me and invited all of my friends. My brother even manipulated my parents into letting some of his friends tag along. So as soon as I walked into the living room, expecting no more than a simple family greeting, a ton of people from school got a glimpse at me with my bedhead and pajamas. Not that I cared too much about my appearance—I go to school with messy hair, ripped jeans, and worn out Vans shoes.
A/N another new story, forgive me haha. "Stereotypical" is going to be deleted so that I can remake it. I was extremely tired and had no good ideas the day I wrote the description and first chapter so I'm going to remake them. I also have no clue whether or not I like the title "Teenagers." for this book, but I kind of have to now that I'm about to save it as such.
Look forward to updates a lot since it's still summer and I really feel like writing. I want to write a story to relate to some girls out there who arent exaclty.. well, 'normal' teenage girls.
Cheers to the girls who rock the faded band tees, ripped skinny jeans, and messy hair! That's me :)
Okay, i've rambled on enough. Goodnight and i hope you enjoy this story. or fanfiction. i havent had the time to decide what it's going to be. ugh. :) x
