Sixteen

Madeline woke up and broke down. There would be other breakups, her mother had told her. Other opportunities for makeup work, her chemistry teacher had said. More chances to fail the driving test even though the other kids her age had received their licenses six months ago.

Madeline bobbed in and out of the cold stream of the shower that always took too long to heat up, so she just jumped in. She told herself it was better for her pores anyway, which might just be myth. With her eyes closed, she pretended she was scaling a waterfall on her way to a long-forgotten treasure in the deep of the jungle. But when she opened her eyes again, there was the Costco brand shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one bottle and the loofah that had seen better days.

Then she was riding the bus to school at age sixteen. It felt cruel, being denied the freedom of driving all because she couldn't master parallel parking. And because she'd clipped a food truck on the last driving test. Why does a corn dog vendor need a sideview mirror anyway?

"Maddie, how are you? I heard about you and Anthony," said Angel at their lockers. This made Madeline well up again, and she pretended to root around at the back of her locker for her textbook, when really, she just needed a moment. On her way back up, she did the quick math of the dimensions of the locker. Yes, if needed, she could hide out in here for the majority of the day.

Angel and their other friends had a different lunch period. That meant Madeline had to eat at the school cafeteria with the underclassmen, while the students with licenses had the forty-five minutes to go wherever they wanted.

"Sixteen and still eating school lasagna," muttered Madeline.

The lasagna made her feel a little bloated. The bloating showed up in gym class, where she tugged on her gray uniform shirt, but she felt like every eye was on her stomach. She felt bad about smiling when the new girl, Neeri, showed up a few minutes late to class. She knew that she would be picked on as soon as the teacher had his back turned. Watching someone else feel gutted gave Madeline some awful satisfaction.

"Uh, sorry guys. Gotta take this," said the gym teacher when he got a call. "Connor, start them stretching and when I get back we're going for a mile run."

Connor did not lead them in stretching. Instead, the jocks circled Neeri and flicked her ponytails and pointed out her shoes. The dam didn't burst until Connor jabbed a finger towards Neeri's forehead. "Add a tally! New zit! NEW ZIT! NEW ZIT!"

The cheer got louder until Neeri ran crying from the gym. When the teacher heard about it, they all ran an extra mile that day. It almost killed Madeline, but at least her skin was mostly clear.

Madeline rushed inside after school, kicking off her shoes and heading upstairs before her mom could bombard her with how-was-your-day. Her room felt even more constricting now, her futon less comfortable. She thought of Anthony, which didn't help. She pulled her pillow over her head and drowned out the quiet around her.