Go on! Love while you're young! And know: it gets much more difficult before it will ever be so easy again.

My hands are in his hair and his arms wrap around my waist tighter. I know what Henry does to me. I’m space bound. A rocket about to blast off. And I want Henry to send me to the moon.

As our kissing progresses, I don’t care that our tryst seems raunchy and wrong. I don’t care that I’m at school, in the boy’s bathroom. I don’t care that to most people this would seem cheap, dirty, and despicable. The only thing I can think about while he kisses me deeper, harder, faster, is that Henry Garner is the plague and the only thing I want him to do is infect me.

I had a good English teacher in high school. He caught me saying nothing and shut me up real fast.

It would probably be wiser to be in balance, but extremes are so much fun! At least it seems like it from all the way over here.

No one will admit to what is "cool", not because it is non-existent, but because in it's observation- not it's explanation, will it uphold it's completely imagined and admired reputation.