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May 31, 2007
"James Macintosh!" I heard my teacher call from class one night as I was leaving. The cute/skater one, although probably straight with the remnants of mohawk dyed in.
"You left your cell phone in class." I smiled and thanked him, calling a friend I haven't seen in awhile on my way home. "Come over," he texted.
"See that belt there?" I tried doing it earlier. I scoffed, zipping my mouth shut, listening to him. Something wasn't right, I imagined--or maybe it was. Maybe it was just life.
When we went out, I patted his leg: not wanting anything more but friendship.