Confessions Of A Teenage Party Animal (Editing.)

10- takeaway

Lana's POV

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I don't think I'm fit to be taking care of kids." I tried to avoid any further discussion on the topic, but Mom insisted that I babysit Julia and Cory Geneva, who were the younger siblings of my childhood friend, Morgan.

Memories of Morgan and me being inseparable flooded my mind. We had grown up together, but his family had to move all the way to Maine when we were in 7th grade. Despite our efforts to keep in touch, the distance had taken its toll, and we had grown apart over the years. Now, the thought of spending time with his siblings brought a pang of nostalgia, but deep down, I knew that I wasn't cut out for babysitting.

"It won't even be for that long," Mom continued, trying to persuade me. "Plus, Julia's 13. She barely even needs any taking care of."

Julia, that little bitch.

Two summers ago, our families spent the Fourth of July together. I couldn't help but remember the incident where Julia almost blew me up with a firework. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it was a close call. But maybe having a rivalry with a thirteen-year-old girl was just plain weird.

I sighed and took a deep breath my eyes flicking from the TV to my mother, "Fine." She smiled brightly and stood up, "Great." She clapped her hands together in happiness, "I'll go call Bella and tell her." Bella was the Geneva kid's mother, a beautiful woman. I couldn't help but let out a sigh at the predicament I had gotten myself into.

✮⋆

As I jogged on the track, I concentrated on the rhythmic sound of my running shoes hitting the rubbery surface. My teammates chattered and laughed around me, but I tried to tune them out and focus on my running.

We were not a powerhouse team, we were a bunch of teenage boys who shared a common interest in sports. We were like a family, but not the kind that was always together. Instead, we were loud, brimming with excitement, and sometimes incredibly stupid. Yet, we were all friends, and that was what mattered.

Conrad, one of my teammates and older friends, had given me the playful nickname "Mr. Gloom." He was a few inches shorter than me and an overall average guy, except for his Swiss heritage, which made him somewhat interesting. "You seem out of it," he said, noticing my frown. "I'm good, just tired," I replied. He raised an eyebrow at me and said, "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I said I'm going to jump into the Atlantic." We both laughed at his comment, knowing all too well that we lived on the coast.

As soon as Coach Roy dismissed us, I quickly changed my clothes and headed to the bookstore for my solo shift. Camille, my colleague, was probably at his other job for the sake of killing time. Though I had learned enough from the blond boy during my other shifts, having a solo shift was still a new experience for me. As I entered the store, I wasn't prepared for the scene in front of me.

Books were -of course- everywhere, it was a bookstore, but there were a lot more books than usual. And there was Camille, in the middle of it all. "Camille, isn't today your day off?" I asked. It seemed like he only noticed me once I spoke up. "Oh, Lana, hey! Yeah, it is, but Marcy had a last-minute order for a book fair from the elementary school and just couldn't say no..." Camille continued rambling, but I had gotten the memo and joined him in unboxing all the children's books.

"I'm starting to feel like I'm going to have to force you to take a break." Camille rolled his eyes playfully, "says you who avoids the rink like the plague," I glanced at him and let out a snort, "I do not." Camille stared at me sceptically while tearing open a box of Warrior Cat books, we continued with the books until only a few boxes remained.
As I grabbed my duffel bag from the floor, Camille muttered, "Marcy will be pissed." I looked at him, puzzled, "Huh? Why?" He seemed a bit embarrassed, "She said I shouldn't do too much." I shrugged, not really understanding what he meant. Camille made a scoffing sound but didn't say anything.