Page 116 - The Life of A Teenage Girl (Stories About Finding Your Way)

THE LIFE OF A TEENAGE GIRL

I knocked on his door again and said, “Um, Mr. Frank, please. I
know you don’t like this—especially us entering your room—but we

also don’t. So let’s just hurry this up and get this done.”

“Fast,” Madelyn added.
It went quiet, and then I heard a click on the doorknob. I knew he’d

unlocked the door. We slowly entered, and his room looked kinda…
messy.

“Oh boy, this is going to be some frustrating work,” Elisha
murmured.

We started in the bedroom. I worked on his desk, which honestly

wasn’t too messy—except for the moldy dark curtains that were
supposed to be white. They kept distracting me every time my arm

brushed against them.

When I turned to my right, Madelyn was in the closet, cleaning
while pinching her nose so hard I thought she might faint any second

from the horrible, damp smell coming off his musty socks and clothes,
which, again, were also supposed to be white.

Elisha didn’t do much, though. She just swept the floor, but even
then, she had trouble vacuuming because the machine was clogged with

heavy debris.

We finally did the last part of the house—the living room—and
Mr. Frank was watching the news.

I asked, “What are you watching over there, Mr. Frank?”
“The Olympics,” he answered back.

“Oh, you also like the games of the Olympics?”

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