JUNE, 2002. Last day of high school.
Remember when the bell would ring, it was lunch time, you’d turn the corner and hope to catch a glimpse of that babe? You’d maybe even go the long way just to make sure you crossed paths, or the back way if you were having a bad hair day. Sit in view, but make sure it wasn’t too terribly obvious. Make up nicknames so you could talk in code with your friends. Elvis was his nickname, and clearly he caught wind of that. We spoke maybe twice the entire school year, and it wasn’t even me who got his number. He signed this in my friend’s yearbook. We spent the summer before I went off to college together, it was simple. That was that.
Through the course of 10 moves since high school, I’ve filtered all my pre-college ramblings, awards, and apparently this, down to one small box. It sits here next to me at my studio, and every once in a while I open it looking for something entirely random, and then spend an hour reading papers and dissecting my teenage thoughts. Wildly entertaining.
Here’s to high school romance and the awkward times that are fun to reminisce about, but never relive.
