Charley | Teen Ink

Charley

January 26, 2008
By Anonymous

“Charley, will you shut up already? No one cares that Connor doesn’t like you! Get over it already. Jeez!” Bryn Nichols spoke to her ah-nnoying little sister. “Fine. When Ethan breaks your heart, don’t come crying to me!” Calliana stomped off into her lime green room. Charley’s real name was Calliana, but when she was little, about four, she acquired her nickname when she jumped into her pig’s pen, waded through the mud, and gave Charles, her huge boar, CPR. She had always been a tomboy at heart, and so her name needed a little readjustment. Ever since that day, everyone except her mother has called her Charley. She pulled her lime green LG Chocolate cell phone out of her Levi’s and punched in seven numbers without even looking. “Hi Mrs. Sendel, is Allie there? Okay, can you tell her that I called? Thanks,” She slid the phone shut and sighed. Charley pulled her long Black hair into a bun, and went to kiss her older sister’s butt. “I’m sorry Bryn, I was just upset. You’re totally right. Do you mind if I check my mail on your laptop? I’m waiting to hear from Ella about her new dog, Eli,” She lied. “Remember that. I’m always right, little sister. Yeah you can, but make it quick,” Bryn smiled, and Charley forced a smile right back. God, sometimes that was just too easy. Charley hurriedly went into Bryn’s all-pink room and sat on her pink bed. She grabbed her pink laptop from underneath the bed, and powered it on. “Ick,” She spoke in disgust as she hurriedly changed Bryn’s background to a lime green daisy instead of the gross picture of Bryn and Ethan kissing. Charley was always nice to Ethan, but there was something about him she didn’t like. She didn’t know what, but there was definitely something. She pulled up whitepages.com and searched Derrick Foley’s name. “Yes!” She whisper-yelled as she found the correct address. She had memorized it, getting a closer and closer look everyday as Connor got off the bus. There it was, those seven digits never looked better. “343-9076,” she repeated as she wrote it on her leg in black pen. She pulled up Yahoo! Just in case her sister checked up on her. Charley went into the history and deleted whitepages.com, clearing her tracks. After two years, she could finally put her ultra-genius plan in motion. Let the games begin.


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