I use to think my life was going nowhere. That each day would be the same boring routine. Boy was I wrong
I walked home with my friends, chatting away about the upcoming Leaver's Ball like normal. The particular day's subject was my hair and if it was stopping boys from asking me to be their date.
"I don't see why it would," I said. "Boys don't have anything against red hair, do they?"
"Well," my best mate Abby started, "I heard that they like the Malibu Barbie type. You know, tan skin and bleach blond hair."
"Ugh! My mom had to give me her stupid red hair and both of my parents had to be ghosts!" I yelled.
"Don't be so down on yourself, Meggie," said my other mate and Abby's twin sister, Vivian. "I heard Melvin likes you."
"Ewww," I spat, "that wet tosser? I'd die before I went to formal with him! It's not fair. You guys have dates and at this rate I won't have a date to the ten year reunion."
"Cheer up, Meggie," said the chirpy Abby. "You could always take the 'R.D.'"
"Bloody hell, you're never gonna let me live down my imaginary friend, are you?"
"Nope," they said in unison.
Before I could explain it was my mother's fault for telling me those stories a troubled looking man bumped into me.
"'Scuse me," he said quickly and disappeared around the turn.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brown, leather square on the ground and I picked it up.
"Looks like he dropped this," I took off in the same direction he went.
When I rounded the corner, though, the street was empty besides a blue telephone box. There weren't any other streets he could've turned onto and the box was locked so he couldn't have gone in there. I opened the wallet to find nothing but a blank piece of paper the size of a business card.
"Meggie, come on. You can turn it in later," one of them called out.
"Yeah, you're right," I said. So I threw it in my messenger bag and headed back to my house.