From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sound
My Motorola flip phone is vibrating off the hook with "Baby Boy" blaring from the tinny speaker, Sean Paul’s heavy bass pulse practically rattling my bedroom window while I ignore Mom's screeching about my chores. The street outside is a mess of grinding gears and the shrill hiss of a neighbor’s leaf blower, but I’ve got my headphones clamped tight, trying to download more tracks onto my sleek new iTunes library before the dial-up cuts out. I’m supposed to be at the diner by six, but after three hours of arguing over which *Survivor* alliance is the fakest, the tribe has spoken and we’re hitting the late show for *Scary Movie 3* instead. I can already hear the muffled roar of my brother’s sedan pulling into the driveway, the gravel crunching under his tires as the autumn wind whistles through the screen door.