Volume I: Plight of a Teenage Girl
Reflections on our adolescent fuck ups we got to navigate in parallel. 4 Lokos may be no more but our bond is forever.
Don’t miss out on our cultural digest - happy reading!
Sissy
My punishment comes about 3 times a year: A picture sent in a group chat to us by my mother of my childhood toilet bowl sprinkled with shitty weed. It reminds me of the feelings of panic and fear, not of my mother, but at the potential loss of the invincibility that I gained through social climbing. Would my mom still let me be friends with the girl who was smoking the bowl out of my bedroom window? Would we still be able to go to the party that she was bringing us to?
More than anything, the picture makes me feel ashamed. Due to my insecure teenage feelings and fear of losing whatever social capital I gained (as well as my four loko plug), I blamed the incident on Andri. In my head, Andri hadn’t introduced me to boys who were finally interested in me nor had she gotten me an invite to that one boy’s rave, which at the time felt like the most important qualities in a best friend. Looking back on the naivety and disparity, I was insane. So when I got home from the dance where I successfully kissed 3 boys and grinded with a senior (feeling like offensive player of the year), I lied straight to my moms face. Andri’s weed, Andri’s bowl, Andri’s dumb idea to throw it in the toilet but forget to flush. Riding the high from cheap liquor and lies, I felt little remorse.
Weeks later when my parents read my desperate text messages, when the girl I betrayed Andri for no longer had time for me, when I embarrassingly lost my virginity in a bedroom with plastic stars on the ceiling, and I was grounded for eternity, I was forced to return to reality. I wasn’t made for sneaking out or handjobs, bong hits or being the getaway driver for a 16 year old buying strawberitas at the 7/11. I sat back down next to Andri in the hall at lunch and never apologized, but I never needed to because a real best friend remains steadfast*. But thrice a year when the picture arrives, I laugh, but I also regret.
*To be honest Andri did not know until years later when my mother finally confronted her. Still recovering. Sorry babes xoxo.
Andri
My punishment comes every time I visit Arlington and am the passenger in a car, driving down the newly christened Langston Boulevard. Lets set the stage-
Winter 2015: I passed my driver's test, unlocking a freedom I never knew existed. Gone were the days of ordering Red Top cabs at 1 AM, sneaking out of my parents’ basement to go to Social McDonald’s, and seeing which weirdos would invite us to parties. I was in control. Then came my parents’ surprise: a 2011 Volkswagen Golf with a hole in the front seat and an aux cord that required a tape recorder adapter. I was ready to embrace my teenage angst—and I was about to do it at full speed.
But that was short-lived. Two weeks into being a vehicle owner (named Kylie Jenner, a-la King Kylie era), I crashed the car driving home a “friend” after a night of designated driving. Cue the tears, the probation notice, and the grounding for being out past curfew. My "friend," who had introduced me to parties, boys, and a whole new world, went and tweeted about me totaling my brand-new car, complete with a photo of the wreck. Thanks, girl.
I was mortified. Mortified to admit I crashed my new car, mortified to face my parents, and mortified to walk into school that Monday knowing everyone knew. As I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact, I looked up to see my "friend" in a CVS neck brace, flirting with the guy she knew I had a crush on. “I have whiplash,” she giggled. She wasn’t grounded. She didn’t have a court date. She didn’t lose a car. But she sure was getting sympathy.
I’m not sure if Sissy knew. I don’t remember if she ever brought it up. While anxiety erased most of my high school memories, my friendship with Sissy has been constant. We were each other’s secret guardians through those years—always there, never needing to explain the chaos we were both facing.
Now, riding in the car with Sissy, I face a new kind of fear. Love her to death, but the girl cannot drive. <3
Cultural Digest:
Reading:
Sissy: Orbital by Samantha Harvey and Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner
Andri: Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, The Flesh, and L.A. by Eve Babitz
Listening to:
Andri: One by Sky Ferreira
Watching:
Sissy: Traitors and any accompanying game show multiverse (Survivor, the Challenge, etc.). Movie of the month is Conclave, the gossip is unmatched.
Andri: RHONJ (Season 7) & Love Island All Stars. Top movie of the month was Dallas Buyers Club to remind the people I can be deep.
Hyper-fixation History Period:
Sissy: Klondike Gold Rush; jaunty yet gruesome
Andri: Summer of Love; hi Charles Manson
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Crying you girls. Andri the fear is still lodged deep in my bones from when Sissy (to whom I am forever grateful <3333 xxx) drove me to Yorktown every morning
No bc sissy is the worst driver I’ve ever met <3