Stories by jenna langbaum

I was getting my ears pierced. It was finally happening. Jenny told me not to; she said it so sadly so sheepishly like an earring would be the end of everything. I’m starting to think Jenny doesn’t know shit.

I pulled the white tank top over my head. I spit on a paper towel and scrubbed. The mysterious brown stain was the last thing I wanted with my new earring but I only had the Honda for an hour and a half so I had to get going.

I looked at myself in the mirror of my mom’s 2004 black Honda. I had a growing patch of red hair above my lip. Summer had a way of fucking with my freckles until my skin looked like dried up paint. The rest of my face was alright. I was starting to look like a human being.

It was September, four days before senior year. I wanted the earring before school started. My voice had finally cracked. I was taller. I was turning into someone else, someone who would wear an earring.