Confused

 
 My friend Mindy and I are sitting in McDonalds, drinking an iced latte. I have to say that McDonalds has out done itself. I personally think that their café menu is way better than Starbucks and cheaper at that.

Mine’s is hazelnut flavor, my auntie got me into it. Mmm, tastes good.
   “Can you believe it’s been almost a month since we got out of high school? God, we’re growing up fast.”
   “It’s called ‘growing old’ not ‘growing up’,” I correct her.
 She gasps, “Oh my gosh you’re right. Soon I’m going to have wrinkles and have kids.”
    “You already have wrinkles,” I laugh, jokingly.
   “Shut the fuck up Charlie,” she retorts. “But really I feel so different since we graduated; I’m like a new person.”
    My name is Charlotte Alan, but my friends and close family members call me “Charlie”.
“Really?” How can she feel that she’s changed? I still see the same old Mindy in front of me; always trying to dress nice, skinny with no boobs(personally I think she has a model figure), and always having that expression of disgusted at unsanitary things, even though most of time things around her are sanitary. “I don’t feel any different.” I tuck my long black hair behind my ear, “Everyday is just like another day in my life. Something happens one day, but the next day it’s gone, I can’t get it back, there is no going back. I can only keep going in life, you know?” Life is almost like a dream. I’m just floating on a cloud drifting towards tomorrow.
   “I guess,” she sighs. “But you’re telling me you don’t feel any different? Even after you turned eighteen?”
   “Different; no, but I do feel confused, like I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I mean I know that I want to go to college and I know I want to make money, but then sometimes I just want to get out.” A rush of happiness came over me. “Like go travel somewhere just on a whim or work a minimum wage job in a foreign country and just survive; just living with a pencil and paper in my hand, ready to write anything that happens.”
   Mindy didn’t say anything for a second, she just looked at me. “Charlie, you’re scaring me.”
Oh no, she’s worrying about me, “Well that’s just how I feel,” I say quickly. “It’s doesn’t change the fact that I’m starting college at UCR in the fall majoring in creative writing and minoring in music.” I smile at her to keep her rest assured. When she gave her “okay” face I changed the subject as fast I could. We began to talk about her love life.
   After I parted ways with Mindy, I head over to the mini mart down the street to grab a lottery ticket and a scratcher.
   “Come on,” I whisper, scrapping my key against the scratcher. There’s goes a two, another two, damn! I only needed one more and I would have won. I was almost there, yet then again, there is no such thing as ‘almost there’ in gambling. It’s either you win or you don’t.
   Now my faith is all in this lottery ticket. Please God let me win. I know you don’t approve of gambling but please let me win. I promise I won’t be selfish, I’ll share. And it’s true too I will share. If I ever win the lottery I would give money to all my mom’s brothers and sister, then to my dad’s side of the family and the rest to invest and make more money so I can open an orphanage in Kenya and in Laos. But the chances of me ever winning the lottery are very teeny tiny slim. I guess the only way I’m ever going to make money is to finish my book.

I’ve been trying to write a book ever since the tenth grade, but because of my constant writer’s block and my imagination running wild to repeatedly start new stories, I never seem to finish.

   My friend did though. She’s weird, random, and I understand every other word she’s saying, but she’s getting published. And before me! I’m so envious of her. Okay, not really, but I really wish I had the mentality to finish the things I start like she does. I criticize my punk step dad for having the same faults as me. But I’m the kid here, I’m allowed to be confused and lazy, not him.