A scene from Sixteen Candles

Pink must be her favorite color. Her rod iron twin bed is un-tucked with pink sheets and two pillowcases stacked on top of each other from her nights rest. The walls are almost the exact same shade of pink as her undergarments as she stands observing her new sixteen-year-old body. Her rosy cheeks, cherry lips and short red hair make the room turn into a horrible nightmare for any boy who walks in. The room is full of panty hose thrown across the bedpost, bras and panties in every direction, and shoes scattered across the floor. Her thin, bony body stands there looking hopeless in the mirror. “Chronologically you are sixteen today, physically you are still fifteen,” she says to herself, shaking her head from left to right. A sigh comes out and she tries to force herself that this fifteen-year-old body magically, overnight became a sixteen-year-old body. “Hopeless,” she shakes her head again and gives up. She picks up the phone and says “Nope. I look exactly the same as I have since summer.” She walks backwards to her bed and sits on top of her pillows with the white phone cord barely reaching her bed. Her shoulders sink to her chest and says “Utterly forgettable.” She pauses waiting to hear her friend’s response on the phone. “No, I didn’t expect to wake up transformed. I just thought turning sixteen would be so major that I would wake up with an improved mental state that shows in my face. All that it shows is that I don’t have a tan left.” She sighs and looks around to the disaster that she has created in her room. It doesn’t even faze her. She then says to her friend, “I better get downstairs. My family is probably pissed off that I haven’t let them wish me Happy Birthday yet.” She gets up and ends the conversation, “Alright see you at school.” The phone slams down and she takes one more look into the mirror. “You need four inches of bod and a great birthday,” she says to herself. A big smile crosses her face.