One
A girl sat at her desk, her back straight, her eyes fixed on the busy streets of San Francisco beyond the window. Textbooks about science surrounded her up to the top of the window frame, circling around her in a mess, and awards lined neatly on the long white shelf beside her desk. She stood up and ruffled down her fluffy polka-dot shorts that were raised slightly above her knees. She grabbed her brush from off her mirrored desk, brushed her black hair back away from her face, and made it into two buns, tying white hair ties around each bun. Then brushing down her thin bangs and sectioning them down the middle. She gazed into the mirror, her fair skin glowing with a warm smile. She had a thin waist and a normal weight; she was shorter than an average 17-year-old, she was 5 '1, and she wore round glasses. She took off her plain white tee and shorts, tossing them into the laundry basket in the corner of her room. Next, she grabbed her black tee that had her work symbol engraved in the shirt's pocket from her closet and put it on. After that she grabbed a pair of jeans and squeezed into them, and put on her shell necklace, adjusting it to make sure it’s secure. She grabs an empty black bag from her closet and packs her belongings, which she needs at work, shoving her phone in the bag's side. The bag was silk, she got it years ago for her birthday but she never got to use it; she couldn’t recall who had given it to her.
Making it to the bus stop, she takes a deep breath and steps in. When the bus arrives, she sees the bus packed full of people, as busy as a subway would be during rush hour. Looking around to see if there's a seat, she sees one in the back. Almost sitting down she notices a student holding a stack of books, struggling to hold on to the books and the pole. Lilly moves to the side saying, “You can sit here.” while pointing to the last seat that was open. Then she stands and clings to the pole next to a seat that has an old woman in it. The old woman was wearing a flower dress with black boots on, her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped together in her lap, a smile lingering on her face, and she smelled of freshly baked cookies, the smell was strong in the cramped bus. As the bus started down the road, she scanned the bus. A young girl sat in a seat behind her in a blue hoodie and jeans, asleep, to her right stood a young guy around her age, a black leather jacket and gray ripped jeans on, clinging to a pole. He had short brown hair that was slightly gelled back, and white shoes on. To her left stood a middle-aged man with black hair, a messy beard, and a blue button-up and faded black jeans, he had a musty smell coming from him, that mixed with the cookie scent. A couple more people stood around her on their phones, but they didn’t stand out.
20 minutes went by, the ride was long and quiet, when suddenly she felt someone touch her waist. Uncomfortable, she moved over, feeling her breath catch in her throat, turning to her left the middle-aged guy was staring at her. Afraid she moved farther to the right bumping into the guy around her age. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s okay.” The guy responded, looking in her direction and brushing his brown hair back. She took a glance at the middle-aged man, and he was now looking in the opposite direction. Feeling uneasy, and trapped she adjusted her bag, moving it to her other shoulder, holding it tight. She felt claustrophobic, her body tensing up. She shifted uncomfortably as she stood, trying to maintain her breathing. The middle-aged man placed his hand in her hair, and she jumped forward, bumping the young guy again. She said nothing; she just looked at him, afraid. The guy grabs her by her shoulders and moves her in front of him away from the man, then he grabs the pole she was holding onto and switches spots with her. She looked at the young guy and smiled. She felt more at peace but she still felt tense, squeezed between people. The middle-aged man looked angrily at her and lifted his arms to push the young guy, causing him to knock Lilly over.
“Are you kidding me?” He yells at the middle-aged man. Then he turned, lending Lilly his hand and helping her up. Everyone on the bus was looking at them. The middle-aged man looked embarrassed, his face was blood red. The bus stopped, and Lilly looked out the window. It was my stop. I grabbed my bag and rushed off the bus.
The coffee shop sat in the noisy city with its bright paint color—pink—that shone in the sun. It was an interesting color choice for the owner to pick since it stood out compared to the buildings that were next to the coffee shop. A big sign hung on the building, It said "Becker's Coffee & Sweets."
The place was filled with quiet chatter, the aroma of strong coffee and of freshly baked brownies that circled the cozy room. A soothing, slow song played from the speakers, the floor was wood-paneled, and the walls were a warm yellow.
“Lilly, can I have the caramel mocha with only 1 spoonful of sugar?” A middle-aged lady asks as she stands at the counter in line. Her mind was on the bus ride, and she couldn’t help but wonder what happened when she left. When she watched the bus leave, she realized she forgot to say thank you. “Lilly?” The woman says, snapping her fingers in Lilly's face. The middle-aged lady had on a blue blouse that complimented her eyes along with navy blue jeans, and black loafers. “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry. Your regular is coming up. Caramel mocha with 1 spoonful of sugar.” Lilly replies, turning her back to the counter and pulling a medium-sized cup from the back. She fills the cup up with milk, a shot of espresso, and chocolate powder, and mixes it in, then puts whipped cream and caramel on top. Then she puts the cup lid on and hands it to the lady. “You forgot my extra sugar.” The lady says, upset.
“Mrs. Kindrick, ma'am, didn’t your doctor say to limit your sugar intake?” I say it with a smile.
“Ugh, you're getting smarter every day.” Mrs. Kindrick says with a sigh and a smile, sitting down at a table.
“I want a strawberry milkshake, please, with sprinkles?” A customer asks.
“Coming right up,” I reply with a smile.
“It’s all that studying, ma’am, and you’ve taught me a few things,” I responded to Mrs. Kindrick while making a strawberry milkshake.
“Here you go; have a nice day,” I say, smiling and handing the milkshake to the customer.
“Lilly, honey, don’t tell me you're working during summer break again.” Mrs. Kindrick asks with a frown.
“Of course I am; you know I’m stubborn,” I say, hanging up my apron. “Charlie! Can you take over for me here?” I yell at the back.
“You know I’d love to,” Charlie says, emerging from the kitchen and grabbing his apron.
I sat down at the table in the chair in front of Mrs. Kindrick.
“Dear, I know that you’re stubborn like your gran, but some days I wish you weren’t.” Mrs. Kindrick says, patting my hands.
“You know I like my routines, and I’m sure gran would be proud she always said that being a little stubborn never hurt no one. And of course, I’d love to get out there and have some fun, but how would I even start?” I say.
“How about this?” She replies, her eyes sparkling while she pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of her purse, unfolding it, and laying it on the table.
“Summer Camp? I don’t know.” I say, conflicted.
The flier read, "San Francisco’s Camp Willow, ages 17 through 19, an entire summer of fun, but not just fun—you learn stuff along the way. Come enjoy the camping experience and meet new people. On May 1st-31st, at 301 Newberry Lane, Charlesville U.S. A”
“Come on, dear. You don’t know; maybe you’ll even enjoy it, plus I’ve already paid for it. Please, my granddaughter fell ill and can’t go.” Mrs. Kindrick says, eagerly. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I knew my parents would never, in millions of years, let me go. I won’t lie, the flier looked intriguing and fun, but it would never be up to me to decide, especially when I was still under the age of 18. She pushed the paper toward me, and I pushed it back. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but my parents would never agree to it. They’re all about studying, and I am too. But thank you, Mrs. Kindrick.” I say, patting her chilly hands and walking to get my bag from the back. “Charlie I’m going home; are you good to take the night shift?” I whisper to him after I grab my bag from the back. “Of course.” He says, taking his apron off the wall. Charlie has always had a crush on me, which wasn’t as strange as it could be. Since he’s only two years older than me, and I’m almost 18. He’d always wear his light brown hair in a bun, and he wore t-shirts and jeans most of the time. And some people think he’s younger than me because of the way he acts,—He’s a goofball—he'd be singing a song that’s in his head one minute and dancing with the older adults next. But he brings smiles to people’s faces, and that's all that matters. I wave goodbye to Mrs. Kindrick and smile softly. “You don’t know if you don’t try, dear.” She says as I walk out of the coffee shop. Maybe Mrs. Kindrick was right; I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try; my parent's answer could even surprise me.
As I unhook my bike that was tied to a pole, I hear running footsteps from behind me. It was Charlie; he was running towards me with his apron, blowing in the wind, he had a small frown on his face. “Lilly, wait, I have something to tell you.” He says it out of breath. As I turn around, he’s catching his breath. “What is it?” I ask, a little confused. “Some guy came by the coffee shop and poked a hole in your bike tire. I was going to chase after him, but he ran too fast.” Charlie says, still out of breath, holding a piece of paper. “It’s alright; don’t beat yourself up about it. It happens all the time.” I say, patting him on the shoulder. Charlie let out a sigh. “I can give you a ride; I’ll have my mom close up early.” Charlie says, already running back to the coffee shop before I could answer. Charlie’s mom, Mrs. Evelyn, owns the coffee shop. Charlie was the one who begged her to hire me; I didn’t ask him to, he just did it after hearing I needed a job to pay for bus rides to school. He knew I didn’t like riding the school bus after he heard me say that the people on it were more shoved in than a public bus would be. He knew I didn’t like tight places unless I had no choice but to. He came running back, with his apron off. Out of breath once again, he says, “Mom said that she can’t close the coffee shop, but she said that Ivy could take over until I get back.” Taking a pause and holding out a piece of paper he continues, “Oh... Mrs. Kindrick said you would need this.” “Mrs. Kindrick is so persistent.” I say, laughing, looking at the summer camp flier. Then he pulled his bike from out of the side door at the back of the coffee shop, down an alleyway to the right. He pulled it out from off the sidewalk and said, “Get on.” I hop on the bike and sit on the edge, holding on to his side, as he peddles.
“It’s a good thing you're short,” he says, laughing.
“Shut up,” I say, hitting him in the back of his head.
“Don’t make me wreck now.” He said, laughing.
As we drive down the road for a while I break the silence. “Do you think I’m boring?” I ask, looking as we pass by buildings and trees. “I think…” He pauses. “I think you're amazing,” he says abruptly—I felt myself blush from embarrassment. I knew Charlie had always had a crush on me, and he’s a good guy, but I never really felt like that about him. I only see him as a friend; I just hope it won’t be too soon that I have to tell him that. “Thanks, but seriously, do you think I work and study too much?” I ask, the wind blowing my hair as we turn right past a curb. “I think you work and study because you have to and because your parents don’t give you much of a choice.” He says. “It’s a shame you can’t be more like me; you’d be popular in no time, and no one is as smart as me.” He says it, chuckling. “You’re such an idiot, and I’m definitely smarter.” I say, messing up his hair.
It was dark now, and they finally arrived at Lilly’s house. “Well, be safe going back, okay?” She says, with a smile. “I will. Go inside; I’ll leave when you're indoors.” He says, waving goodbye. This wasn’t the first time he drove me home; this wasn’t the first time my tires got slashed out. But many of the times when they got slashed, Charlie brought my bike to a bike shop and got me new tires. So that's why I leave my bike at home, and Charlie and his mom pick it up in the mornings and take it back to the coffee shop so I can ride it home in the afternoons. I appreciate Charlie, but he deserves someone who feels the same way.
A white house sat in an average neighborhood away from the city; trees surrounded the house in a line, and the house reached up to two stories. Nearby the yellow front door sat two pots full of roses. Going indoors, upstairs, she goes to her room and throws her bag on the floor. Sitting down in her chair at her desk. Her fingers wrapped around the wrinkled paper and the words: “Summer Camp” were in bold. Her brown eyes sparkled. What am I thinking? She thought to herself. Like my parents would ever let me go. She laid her forehead on the desk, covered with papers. She heard the front door open. And she suddenly sat up and thought to herself, This is it; I can do this! A smile of hope gleamed on her face, but fear lingered behind the smile. With a heavy sigh, Lilly reached for her shell necklace; it was gone. She panicked, looking around her room, underneath her bed, and under her clothes pile, which she needed to clean up before her parents saw it. She checked in her closet, which was neat, despite the other part of her room not being. But it wasn’t there; she sat on her knees and pushed the thought away. It was important, but not at this moment. What was important at this moment was summer camp. Gathering up her courage, Lilly approached her parents, her eomma and appa, while gripping tightly to the piece of paper. Her parents sat at the kitchen table; they were both in scrubs, which they wore underneath their lab coats occasionally. They were talking about their latest research project, their faces fixed on a data-filled screen. “Eomma, Appa, I have something to ask you,” she began, her voice shaking with fear.
Her parents looked up, seriously. “What is it, Lilly?” Her father asked impatiently.
Lilly takes a deep breath, placing the flier on the kitchen counter, and says, “I want to go to summer camp; I promise I’ll still focus on school. It's just that I never get to do anything fun, and I’m not saying science isn’t fun, because it is. But that’s not the point; I really want to go, and it’s already paid for, and it’ll last 3 months, and when I come back, everything will be the same.”
Lilly waited for an answer. She looked at her parents' faces. They looked back at each other flatly after looking at the paper. “Lilly, how far is it?” Her mom asked her face still. “5 hours away.” She replied, trying to hide her excitement. Her mom and dad exchanged looks again, the suspense intensifying. “Fine, you can go... But when you come back, you better work as hard as you ever have before.” Her dad said. Then both her parents went back to their project. “Okay, I promise you won’t regret this.” She says as she walks to her room to show her excitement.
Lilly sank onto her bed, her fingers once again searching for the seashell necklace around her neck that was not there. A deep sigh escaped her lips, and she drifted off to sleep.
