The Music in You

She came home from a 12-hour shift. She sat down on the couch and looked around; the place was a mess. She was never home anymore. She looks down at her pedometer, "1,056,000? Ugh. Another one broken!" She takes it off and throws it at the table. It fell to the ground.

Just another thing to clean up later. It never ends.

She leaned back on the couch, face in her hands, trying not to cry. It was another one of those days- nothing went right, but it wasn't all wrong either. It was long. They all are. Long, monotonous, and seemingly going nowhere.

She sat back up and looked around the room. You could barely see the hardwood floor. She worked so hard to put in that hardwood floor and it had not been waxed in over a year. The scuffs, the dirt- it was all so noticeable. She finally had the time to slow down and really look at the reasons why she was working so hard. Maybe she should take the time this weekend to take care of it all? Or maybe she should just hire someone?

It was always much more satisfying to do it herself.

She stripped off her work clothes and changed into her favorite yoga pants. She put her hair into a messy bun and grabbed the first shirt off of the stack of dirty laundry. As she brought it closer to her face, she realized it was too far gone. She tossed it back at the basket and missed. She went to her drawer and grabbed a clean one.

When she walked by the mirror, she saw herself for the first time that day. She was in desperate need of washing her face before she went any further.

"Alexa, shuffle songs!" She was ready to take it all on.

Tomorrow will be the first day of vacation. It was the first in 5 years. She wanted to wake up and see the floors she had worked so hard for- and she wanted to see them shine.

As she reached for her facewash, the music started playing. She whispered to herself,

"When I wake up...

Well, I know I’m gonna to be..."

The smell of Noxzema filled her nose and her face began to tingle. It was exactly like the commercials had promised- exhilarating and life changing. She would definitely get the cute boy at the art museum. She splashed water everywhere: fully in the moment, but knowing it was exactly how it was supposed to be. Healthier skin- better than soap.

This is 13.

She was going to be the most teenage-teenager ever. She was going to be everything YM had to offer, while walking right off of the pages of DELiA*s. She would be the smell of Sunflower and use a real CoverGirl compact. She looked forward to seeing what the Coty powder was that she had seen on every vanity since she could walk. Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger were going to be on a first name basis with her. Watch out Kate Moss. There is a new teenager in town.

-The days of Tinkerbell cologne and peel-off nail polish behind her.

Resist all urges to even look at Beanie Babies.

And it all started with Noxzema. THAT girls in the ad was IT. She had it all- the perfect skin. The boy. The clothes. The hair.

She was her 13. That is who she was going to be.

(She decided to keep the Fairy Dust- glittery sparkles were in. But she was definitely going to hide it. Nobody could see it or know.)

She looked back at herself in the mirror and practiced; "Biatch!" "Whatever!" "Peace out!" (while giving herself the peace sign, then shaking her head) "No....that's not MY 13." "Biatch!" "Fo shiznit!" "Booyah!" "Booyah, Biatch!" *snap* "Don't EVEN go there!" "DON'T even go there." Don't even GO there."

She went back to her room, changed into her baby tee. She couldn't believe her mom FINALLY let her have one. She couldn't decide if she should wear it with overalls, or baggy shorts. She didn't want to waste her first time on anything less than perfection; she needed bomb combo. She needed to take this very seriously- a trip to the mall, as a teenager, cannot be done in the wrong outfit.

She sat down on her bed, and found the cord to the phone that the ‘rents bought at Radio Shack last week. She pulled on the cord, as the clear phone, with neon mechanics inside emerged from under a pile of clothes in the corner of her room.

"Hey-yoooo!"

As she picked it up and started pressing the buttons to her best friend’s number, she heard a voice, "UM! HELLO! I’LL BE OFF IN 5 MINUTES."

“UGGGGHHHHHHHHH” *EYE ROLL* She really needed her own line. Like, everyone has one these days. Bogus.

After the mall, she and her girlfriends were going to see the movie "Benny and Joon" with everyone, who had any amount of taste, crush: Johnny Depp. She looked over at the poster of him on her wall.

"Ughhhhhhhh...SO HOT. Literally canNOT believe anyone would actually think Zack Morris or frickin’ Dylan McKay can even compete. What.Ever.” *EYE ROLL*

_____

The girls all met at her house later that afternoon. She showed them the 13-year-old birthday mall haul. The new and improved teenage her. They went through every item in her closet and matched it up with her new clothes, and did a very serious debate on what could and could not stay.

The dELiA*s order would be there in 2-4 weeks.

Now that she was a teenager- there could be no more Disney. Looney Tunes- legit. Disney- Whack.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if dELiA*s was actually girls like us? Like, they could pay us to wear their clothes, send in pics, or post up a photo board at our school with all of the cool outfit ideas? We could even write about our pictures.”

“Nobody would ever be interested in seeing something like that. Every day people? Could you imagine caring?” *rolls eyes, continues eating Fun Dip*

“Talk to the hand, biatch. People would love this phatness.”

"What do you think should be my new word? Homeslice or Biatch? I kind of like Homeslice, because I don't have to worry about saying it in front of the 'rents."

“Let’s bounce, losers.”

________

As the girls walked home from the movies, arm-in-arm, with their mix-matched outfits, side-pony with the matching scrunchies, glitter eye shadow (that was more of a mess, than make up), and coco bean lipstick- they all sang together, in post-movie bliss:

"Well, I would walk 500 miles!

And I would walk 500 more!

Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles

To fall down at your door!"

-through their laughter and the stares of strangers. They didn’t care. The world was theirs for the taking.

They debated if they should go out for ice cream and see who is at ice cream shop or if they should go walk over to the bowling alley. Either way- they knew that they would find boys from school.

They wanted to show them how mature and banging they looked in makeup.

The baby tee was perfect with her new Calvin Klein jeans. How could she have even considered anything else? She reached in her purse, pulled out her bottle of Designer Imposters perfume, and hoped nobody saw the spray can. Ghetto, but the dead presidents were running out of office.

Da d-da da, da d-da da, da d-da da, da d-da da

Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle a da da...

Back at home, as she was gathering the supplies to clean and polish her floor, she wondered to herself how the old homeskillets were doing? She wondered if they would be there tomorrow night? She wondered if she should wear makeup?

Maybe there will be cute boys there. Maybe Zack Morris.

She picked up her pedometer, laughed, and continued to sing,

“And I would walk 500 more.....”