‘Get out of bed! 10 minutes till you need to be at the bus stop’

Mum yelled at me again to get out of bed as she closed the front door behind her. I heard her drive her little hatchback out of the driveway and to work.


I groaned as I unrolled out of my burrito of sadness and comfort. My feet were sore. Did I just spend all night texting him again? Judging by the iPhone imprint on my face I’d say so. I lifted my arm and took a short whiff to see what sort of shower was required.

‘Wow!’ that’s gonna need a hazmat team just to sort out that toxic mess.

I stood briefly in front of my mirror and inspected my teenaged body. Yup, I still had those pesky lumps that hurt at the wrong times and didn’t feel at all sexy, just awkward. My hips looked to have gained an inch overnight and my long hair had matted at the back. This is more than ten minutes of work to look at least remotely presentable. Looks like I’m walking unless I can beg a lift off Dad who usually goes to work a bit later.

‘Dad, are you still here?’ I called out in my pre breakfast voice.

‘Sure, Rhi. What’s up?’

‘I’m running late and I’m an absolute mess, I’d really appreciate getting a lift today.’ That’s what I should have said. Instead I chose to behave like a sixteen year old.

‘Mum said you’d give me a lift today.’ I lied.

‘I don’t recall…’

‘Please, Dad. You know how Mum forgets’ I interrupted, I know how much he loves that. I couldn’t help it.

Meanwhile I’m digging around my room in my dirty undies looking for a pair of slightly less dirty undies and bra and school clothes and hair ties and makeup and shoes and socks and bag and books and homework and phone. I swear just a little under my breath.

‘Who would be a teenager? this is exhausting and I haven’t left my room!’

I grabbed the bare essentials and high tailed it to the bathroom hoping I didn’t get spotted by my brat of a brother. He’s always hiding somewhere ready to scare the living crap out of me. I made it without being spotted. As I was about to completely disrobe, a most disgusted voice starts and I just about jumped out of my skin.

‘I’m not finished in here.’

Mitchell, my brat brother was sitting on the toilet, his legs were barely able to touch the ground and swung in a most condescending fashion. I went bright red and then I started gargling and yelling incoherently. Mitchell kept his cool though and carried on as if I wasn’t there standing almost nude. As he finished his business and left he muttered under his breath as if it were my Mum talking, ‘teenagers’, shook his head and carried on out of the bathroom.

Finally I had the bathroom to myself and was able to have some privacy. As I locked the door and got ready for some total makeover work, my Dad called out,

‘Rhi, you gonna be long? I want to be out the door in 15 minutes.’

My heart sank, at least I had time to get a bit of work done but it would have to be a rush job. The hot water on my tired, God I was always tired these days, tired body was so soothing but I couldn’t enjoy it. I still had to make myself stink properly and then apply at least one layer of makeup, then hair doesn’t just do itself. Unless you’re a guy. Guy’s seem to be able to walk out of a bathroom, run a couple of fingers through their hair and miraculously their hair is stylish.

‘Focus Rhi!’

I hissed to myself. I can’t think about him and his well muscled arms and toned abdomen with that small trail of hair wrapping around his belly button and tracing up to his chest that was just starting to sprout a few hairs. The promise of a strong looking man all to myself.

‘Seriously, pull yourself together!’

I started to scramble. I jumped out of the shower and did a pretty poor effort at drying myself off because I was in a hurry. Ironically, a partially wet body tends to make clothes clingy and rather difficult to put on. This only resulted in increasingly frantic movement. I had to practically wrestle my bra on. Those contraptions are the worst. I finally got myself clothed. Now to paint my face so that people don’t recognise my natural features when I’m not wearing makeup.

‘2 minutes Rhi, don’t make me late for work!’ came the cry from Dad.

I rushed the makeup and hair and did a quick double take to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and that my bra wasn’t on back to front…again.


‘Righto Dad’

I called out as I stuffed my bag with what would appear to the untrained eye to be random and entirely unrelated items from my room. To me however, they were strategic and very valuable things required for my very survival at school. Except for the bank statement, I have no idea how that got in there.

I raced downstairs, swung past the kitchen and grabbed the wrong lunch. I happened to notice this time so I put it back and grabbed my lunch.

‘Thanks Mum!’ I yelled as I ran out the door.

Dad followed me swinging his car keys on his forefinger. ‘Teenagers’