To Be A Teenage Girl

Who would willingly be one? Who could ever possibly WANT to be a teenager? Or me, for that matter?
High school can sometimes suck, usually a lot. Once one tiny little thing goes wrong, the whole world crumbles. Especially with boys.
This is the part where well meaning friends will tell you that to the world, you may be one person but to one person you may be the world. That just makes you feel worse.
Where does it all begin? Outside the A Block with a him, a her and a Winnie-the-Pooh anthology. Foot in mouth strikes but it is ok. She walks home happy, barefoot. The embarrassment does not matter. Right? But wrong.
Revision keeps her up far too late. She wakes up on the only side of the bed. It is cold, she can't find her Pjs. It may have helped to wear them but it was warm last night. She is behind schedule preparing for the school day. The brother refuses to get up so she sends him in to the parental units. There is confusion. A substitute is had in OutEd and Geo. Geo was bludged and that redeemed the morning some. History was far too brief and was blank; there was nothing to do, another substitute. The library provided a more quiet but by no means silent refuge. The hell hole of the afternoon proceeded with a period of GenMath. The claims of making a scene, being a tool, the adolescent behaviours of a pictorial and lowly vocalised kind were overdone.
Naturally, an exit was necessary. After mild violence, the removal of self was enacted. Quite reservedly and with minimal drama, she completed her exit. Private study in the centre did not work and having him watch her was distracting. Shortly after he left, her bag was packed and she headed home, passing him once and not stopping. Pyjamas were entered and the covers were pulled high above the head.
How could she not have seen? They only let you be this happy when they are preparing to take something from you. Today it was your dignity, another portion of your sanity. Sleep it off?