Fourteen and Falling

Kyle

Clouds loomed over the city center, blurring the familiar landmarks gray. Just another Thursday as usual, except for the fact that I, Kyle Alfonso, wasn’t your average fourteen-year-old going through the purgatory we call high school. Unlike those who think their bitter colas are close enough to alcohol, I can have the real thing. Yes, that’s right - alcohol.

All thanks to this little ID the government gave me, tucked away in my pocket. Driver's license? Check - if the driving center believed me, that is. Getting drunk? Check, but I’d rather not...

Buying that one overpriced figurine for auction that I really don’t need? Check. Vapes, which are a definite health hazard? Check.

The morning at my boss Hadermann’s newsstand were full of noises, from the rusty cash register to the mushy keyboards. I shuffled newspapers with seemingly no thought, my thoughts already kilometers away. The vape pen in my hand helped keep me at bay, the blueberry vanilla scent being a stark contrast to the stale air.

“Kyle,” Mr. Hadermann said, “Are you finished with those tabloids yet?” with his voice rougher than sand. I groaned, shoving the rest into a messy pile. This job was the meaning of soul-crushing boredom, a stark contrast to what the people over at the government promised me.

A lapse of guilt lanced through me. Mom and Dad would be disappointed to see me wasting my days like this. They wouldn't have wanted me working some dead-end job, my potential trapped in this wasteland.

"You have so much more to you, Kyle," Dad's voice echoed in my memory, a warm baritone.

Mom's face, with a gentle smile, flashed before me. "Don't let the world clip your wings, sweetheart. Fly high, aim for the stars." Their faith in me felt like a weight on my chest, a constant reminder of the life I wasn't living.

With a dead sigh, I forced myself to focus on the other bin of tabloids. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the gap between this boring as fuck job and the limitless possibilities my pass offered. But how? That was a question I didn’t have the answer to yet.

The morning silence wasn’t for long when the bell jingled above the door. A cloud of blueberry mist obscured the newcomer, then dissolved to reveal Natalie, a mop of fiery red hair framing her freckled face, taking her hood off.

Natalie was one of my only friends, a spirit trapped in the world without my privileges. We bonded over our craziness, us being rebels, and our addiction to cheap vapes.

"Yo, Hadermann finally let you out of the torture chamber?" she smirked, her voice husky from overuse and late nights.

I tossed over the folded tabloid over to her, “I just finished the gossip section. Apparently Ms. Schneider across the street has a thing for the mailman.”

“Classic Mrs. Schneider. Dude looks like leftovers left by the dogs.”

Everything was all relaxing and calm, up until the bell jingled by the door after what seemed like forever. I stood up and straightened my name tag, which reads ‘Kyle A. - College Intern’, which I found slightly amusing.

The afternoon went by, with the sounds of newspapers and Natalie’s chit-chat. When the last customer finally left the shop, Mr. Hadermann, with a huff of a drill sergeant, ordered me to stay late and fold a mountain of even more newspapers for the weekend editions.

Natalie was standing by the door, and asks me, “So, are you still up for catching that movie that came out yesterday?”

I ran a hand through my messy hair. “Honestly, Nat, I have no idea. I still have this pile of…” I pointed to the stack of newspapers.

“Ugh, classic Hadermann,” she rolled her eyes, “Look, ditch the folding crap. We can grab some real food after the movie, costs on me. Besides, who needs equations when you have the power of… well, me?”

Natalie’s view on academics was…. skewed at best. But her way and ability to get me out of scrapes were great.

“Tempting offer,” I said, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “But I can’t exactly ditch work and leave Hadermann with a paper mountain, can I?”

Natalie’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

Before I could say anything, she went over to Mr. Hadermann, her voice with fake sweetness. I flinched, already knowing what was about to happen.

“Hey there, Herr Schnurrhose! Kyle here just mentioned he has a, uh, sudden doctor's appointment. Super urgent, you know? Needs to rush out immediately.”

Mr. Hadermann, suspicious, narrowed his eyes. “Doctor’s appointment? This sudden?”

Natalie batted her eyelashes, laying on the charm trick. “Oh, it’s a mess, trust me. You wouldn’t believe it. Top-secret stuff, government-related, can’t say more. But rest assured, Kyle will make it up to you tomorrow. How about double the usual folding work?”

Mr. Hadermann grumbled something about the youth these days, but in the end, the promise of double work seemed to be good enough for him. He grunted out an “okay”, and with a triumphant grin, Natalie winked at me.

“You just gave me double the work for tomorrow,” I told her.

“Eh, I’m sure you can deal with it,” she said, “But the problem’s solved now, so come on now slowpoke, we’ve got half an hour.”

Maybe her decisions weren’t ideal, and maybe she isn’t the best influence, she definitely knew how to make life interesting. With a final glance at the pile of papers, I grabbed my coat and followed her out the door, feeling a positive feeling I haven’t had in ages.

“Why don’t you talk much, Kyle? I know introverts more talkative than you,” she told me.

“I’m not social in any way, Nat. Name one interesting thing about me - I’m guessing you can’t. All your other friends have cool hobbies, and I literally do not have the time or money to do anything I want.” I replied.

“I thought that pass of yours gives you _freedom_?”

“That’s not how that works. I also hardly have any friends.”

After another talk, we finally arrive at the only (good) cinema in Dortmund, just in time.

Later that night, back in my tiny studio apartment, the movie’s odd quirks fading from my mind, I stared down at my English homework. Mrs. Nagler gave the class an unrealistic word count for our essay, and gave us one afternoon to do it. She knows about my situation, yet won’t give me extra time for it “because it’s unfair”.

I sighed, pulling out my vape pen, and taking a long drag. Oh, did I not mention that I have a terrible addiction to vape pens? That’s what you get for letting a 14-year-old buy such items, that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Anyway, despite the sweet blueberry flavor, it didn’t do much. Despite ditching work and catching the movie with Natalie, I still had way too much shit to do.

“Fourteen and free” I muttered to myself - knowing some of it is bullshit. People dislike their parents sometimes, but they’re there for a reason. Freedom, it seems, comes with a hefty price tag, one I wouldn’t sure I could afford - literally,

I glanced at the little pass tucked away in my drawer. It was a symbol of my independence, despite the life I could have built with my parents, who I wish were still here for me.

With determination, I pushed the vape pen aside and opened my notebook. Maybe she couldn’t help me with my homework, but I could figure out something to write. I had a future to build, one that honored my parents and made the most out of my unique situation. Even if it meant a lot of late nights spent over textbooks - I’d rather study than be stuck in that hellhole of a newsstand,

I grabbed my favorite pen and started scribbling, the frustration slowly giving way to a flicker of hope. Despite all the issues, I may be able to bridge the gap between my job I’m entirely dependent on and my limitless possibilities. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing worthwhile ever was.

The night hummed with the distant sounds of the city, a symphony of car horns and distant laughter filtering through my window. I plugged in my headphones, letting the pulsating beat of my favorite song fill my ears. As the music washed over me, I felt a surge of energy. Tonight, I wouldn't just be Kyle the newsstand boy, or Kyle the orphan. Tonight, I was Kyle Alfonso, a fourteen-year-old with a government pass and a future to build. And for the first time in a long time, that future didn't seem so bleak.

Even Natalie had a future for herself, with her also being able to enjoy herself, especially with one of her interests which she thinks is secret but is one I know about.

At that moment, it felt inspiring and motivational.

All until my phone rang.

It was Natalie.

Oh shit.

I pick up - something’s gone terribly wrong.