Teen Ink

“One … two … three … NOW!” I bite down on the Altoid and a blast of ice invades my mouth and my head, the cold clearing all nervousness. The golden afternoon sun...

I wouldn’t ask for a dressing room. My mom always asked for me. The evening before I had repeatedly risen from my seat and piled on excess noodles suffocated in meat sauce. Then I licked my...

      I awoke with a start to the sound of my alarm clock. As I lay back, grumbling, I heard the familiar words I so dreaded: “Alex, time to get up!” my mom...