The Life of a Teenager

I am a good kid.
I have good, nice parents who, while not rich, provide books and music and food and clothes for me.
I have lots of good friends.
I have several best friends, all of whom I would trust with my life.
I get good grades. (Yes, homeschoolers get graded just like the rest of you.)
I have nice clothes.
I'm nice to my sisters, most of the time.
I don't listen to dirty music, or read dirty novels.
My first boyfriend was a good guy. Is a good guy, for that matter.
Yes, I lie. But not all the time.
Yes, my friends and I are inappropriate, and I know alot more about certain things than I should.
Does that make me a bad kid?

I don't curse...at least not around my parents.
It's not like I've gotten pregnant, or I do drugs, or drink, or smoke.
Yes, I'm shallow as a rain puddle sometimes.
But really, I'm good most of the time.

Sure, I liked David first, then Eli, then Alec.
Sure, they all knew.
Sure, the only one I dated was Alec.
Sure, I broke up with Alec a few days ago because a) I don't think I can handle a boyfriend and b) I never really liked him; I just told myself that to get over Eli.

I'm not a bad kid.

Yes, I broke my dad's stereo setup and still haven't told him.
Yes, I'm scared to talk to my friends about why I broke up with Alec, because I'm scared they'll laugh at me.
Yes, I wear those short-shorts on purpose, so that the boys will look at me for once, and not my beautiful, size-2 friends.
Except I know that some boys look at me like that, because I'm the one, who when she walks anywhere by herself, gets honked at and whistled at and cat-called at.
It still doesn't make me feel pretty.

I'm not a bad kid.

Can I tell you a secret?

Sometimes I wish I could just give up.