“Um, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Taryn said, with a little attitude.

Rachel didn’t reply. She didn’t know why she even said anything in the first place.

Rachel watched as Taryn sat down in the chair and the tattoo man rubbed her back with alcohol. The smell infused the room. Rachel cringed as the man took out his tattoo pen, changed the needle and filled it with black ink.

“Hold my hand.” Taryn said.

Jen went over to hold her hand.

Rachel listened as Taryn was screaming with pain.

“It’s not that bad, T,” said Ben. “Man up!”

After an excruciatingly long 45 minutes, Taryn was finished. The man put a white bandage on her back and taped it up on the edges.

Rachel looked at Taryn and thought she looked a bit out of it. Her face was flushed.

“You okay?” Rachel asked.

“Been better,” Taryn replied.

Ben and his friends were still getting their tattoos when Taryn said she felt sick and wanted to leave.

Rachel looked at her watch: 10:45pm.

Oh no.

How would she ever make it home in fifteen minutes? Rachel felt bad that Taryn was sick but she was also relieved that they were heading home. As the girls walked towards Taryn’s BMW Rachel tried to hurry them up. Emily and Jen walked slowly down the block looking at the many things the street vendors were selling.

“C’mon guys, Taryn’s sick.” Rachel kept prodding.

As they approached the car, Taryn said, “I can’t drive, my back hurts and I’m dizzy.”

Now what? Rachel thought. Who was going to drive them back?

Rachel didn’t have her license and wasn’t turning 16 until November, and Jen and Emily did not have their license yet either.

“Maybe Ben will drive us,” Taryn said.

Taryn took out her cell phone and began texting with Ben.

“He’ll take us, but we have to wait for them to finish their tatts,” Taryn said.

I’m done. My parents are going to kill me. My life is over.

Time crawled by slowly as they waited in the Starbucks for Ben to finish. Rachel kept checking her watch. 11, 11:05, 11:10, the time was rolling on and she was late for curfew. At 11:25 Rachel’s phone buzzed.

1 New Message:

Dad: Where are you, young lady?

Rachel didn’t know what to do; she wished she could be transported from that Starbucks in NYC to her house in Bedford, New York.

Rachel: I’m running a little behind, movie is just letting out.

Rachel didn’t know what to respond, but she knew if she didn’t respond, her parents would drive to the theater to look for her.

Dad: When are you going to be back?

Rachel: ASAP, I’m sorry.

The text conversation ended and Rachel’s nerves grew. How could this be happening to her?

Rachel heard a knock on the window of the Starbucks; she looked over and saw Ben standing there with his friends. Ben poked his head in and said, “I need to stop by my dorm quickly. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Rachel felt a panic attack coming on. She’d never had a panic attack, but if she were ever going to get one, it would be tonight.

“Hurry,” said Taryn, “I’m really feeling nauseous.”

As Rachel sat there and watched Ben leave towards his dorm, she wondered how long he was going to be. For a second Rachel thought maybe she could offer to drive Taryn’s car home; she didn’t think it would be that hard to learn. Then she realized that was a terrible idea.

Ben returned to the Starbucks twenty-five minutes later smelling of smoke.

“Ready?” he said.

The girls got up and headed to the car. Taryn sat in the front and Rachel, Jen and Emily sat crammed in the back seat. The car reeked of smoke and Rachel knew she was going to be in BIG trouble. Not only was she going to be late, but she would also come into her house smelling of smoke.

Rachel looked at the orange-lighted clock on the dashboard: 12:08.

BUZZ. Rachel felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Rachel hoped that if she didn’t open it that it would just go away. 12:12 Buzz, another buzz. Rachel flipped open her phone and held the screen away so that Jen and Emily couldn’t read it.

2 New Messages:

Dad: WHERE ARE YOU? GET HOME NOW.

Dad:?

Rachel didn’t know what to respond. They were still a good 45 minutes from home and stuck in Friday night city traffic.

Rachel: Long story, I’m on my way, 45 minutes. I’ll explain.

Dad: We need to talk. You’re in trouble, missy.

Rachel put her phone back in her bag and sunk down into her seat. She didn’t know what was worse: being stuck in that car, or what she would face when she got home. She hated this night and wished it had never happened.

Chapter Seven

As the car finally rolled into the driveway the clock read 1:23am. Rachel saw her parents standing in the window, looking outside.

“Bye Rach, I’ll text you tomorrow, maybe we can go to the movies, you have your ID!” Emily said.

“Uh huh, have a good night,” Rachel said.

The second she entered her house, she heard her parents’ voices.

“Rachel, come here right now!” her dad said.

“Coming,” Rachel replied.

Rachel approached her parents who were red with anger. They looked tired and mad, and Rachel had never seen them quite like this before. She was scared.

The three walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.

“What happened?” her mom said.

“I um, lost track of time.” Rachel said trying to get out of the punishment that awaited her.

“The movie ran over, and then Taryn wanted to stop by a friends house: I couldn’t say no.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t say no? Who’s house was it anyway?” Rachel’s dad replied.

“Jessica, my other new friend,” she replied quickly.

“You are two and a half hours late, do you realize that? Your mother and I were worried sick.”

“I’m sorry. I said I was sorry. I don’t know what else you want.”

“You are grounded. No TV, radio, or hanging out with friends for the rest of the weekend. You need to think about what you did tonight,” said Rachel’s dad.

“And no more riding with that girl Taryn, she is clearly bad news,” said Rachel’s mom.

“She is not. She’s a nice girl, what do you know?” Rachel screeched.

“That’s enough out of you! Get to your room!” her dad said.

As Rachel got up from the couch and walked past her parents and headed for the stairs, her dad said, “Get back here.”

Rachel slowly walked near him.

“Come here, he said, “closer,”

“Were you smoking?”

“NO!” Rachel said.

“You smell like an ashtray, do you smell that?” Rachel’s dad said.

“Rachel, tell us the truth, were you smoking?” Rachel’s mom asked again.

“I am telling you the truth, I wasn’t smoking.”

“It was probably your new friends. They’re bad influences on you. You need to find new friends,” her mom said.

Furious, Rachel turned and headed upstairs. She knew her parents didn’t believe her, but the funny part was she didn’t smoke. At least that wasn’t a lie. Rachel felt guilty for lying to her parents, but if they found out that she had gone into NYC, she would have been grounded for life, not just the weekend. Rachel was also mad because she knew that tomorrow (well, today) was her big date with Rob and she didn’t want to miss it, or miss the first party of the year. This was turning into a real disaster.

Exhausted, she took off her Nirvana tee and slid under the covers. Rachel feel asleep quickly, forgetting to write in her journal for the first time since she began back in 7th grade.

Rachel woke up the next morning feeling groggy and exhausted. Her late night was all a blur as she tried to run its events back in her mind. She felt upset that she’d worried and disobeyed her parents, but on the other hand, she felt her curfew was too early, and they were being too hard on her. Compared to most of the girls in her grade she had the earliest curfew and the most rules.

Thinking about this upset Rachel, and whenever Rachel felt upset she liked to write in her diary to get her thoughts out. She reached for her diary, and then suddenly remembered she had forgotten to write in it last night. This was the one thing Rachel was strict with herself about: she never wanted a day a to go by without documenting it.

Rachel opened a page, backdated it, and wrote about her crazy first night out with the girls.

When she finished writing, she locked it up. If her parents ever saw this entry, she knew they would be pissed.

The time was 10:15am and Rachel’s stomach began to growl. She was a little nervous to face her parents but knew she couldn’t stay in her room all day. As she headed into the kitchen, her parents were sitting there, still in their pajamas, reading the New York Times and drinking coffee. They looked up at her but didn’t say anything. Their stares made her feel guilty all over again.

Rachel’s parents sat there quietly and Rachel could tell they were still mad. She went over to the cupboard to get out the Golden Grahams, some milk from the fridge and then sat quietly across from them at the kitchen table. The room was still, and nobody said anything.

She felt torn; she desperately wanted to tell her parents the truth, but feared their response. She wished she could have a more open relationship with them, but they were so overprotective, she figured it was best to shelter them from the truth.

As she tilted the bowl back to sip the remaining drops of milk into her mouth her dad finally spoke.

“Don’t forget: no TV, or radio today -- and don’t even think about going out with your friends tonight. You are grounded until Monday morning.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Rachel said, trying to be sympathetic.

She thought about her punishment and realized they had forgotten to take away her cell phone away. Usually, when they grounded her, her cell it is the first thing they held hostage.