By Miriam Mancuso
Kendra was tired but she could stay awake long enough to see her little brother’s babysitter Oliver bring young John home. She waited anxiously on the edge of her bed waiting to hear a knock on the door. She already had a perfect plan to stay downstairs while Oliver and John waited for Kendra’s parents arrival at home.Kendra was only thirteen so she couldn’t watch a 7 year old all alone (according to Mr. and Mrs. Stapleton) but seventeen year old Oliver was. Kendra was ready to wow her brother’s babysitter with her knowledge of basketball history and sucky high school teachers. Kendra desperately wanted to look older so that Oliver would notice her as he would a Junior like himself.
She put on (way too much) mascara, lipgloss and lip liner as well as a heck load of blush. That’s what 17 year old girls wear, right? She then took a wad of toilet paper and evenly separated the bunch and stuffed it down her training bra. That’s also what 17 year old girls do…right? Kendra wasn’t sure her lipstick was dark enough. She applied a bright red over her already attention-grabbing purplish blue. Hey, she wanted to stand out!
She then heard the knock on the door that she had been longing for. She squealed and hopped ip and down in excitement. She was ready to watch Oliver fall in love with her. Kendra stopped in her tracks. There stood the bane of her existence, Maria SanLuis, on Oliver’s arm.
Kendra backed up the stairs and began scraping the lipstick off of her face with her balled hand. Then her phone buzzed.
“How’d it go?”
“I think I’m gonna find a guy my own age who can’t get cheerleaders.” That’s why 13 year old girls did…right?