I wake up groggy with puffy, scratchy eyes, but thankful when I remember it’s Friday.
Read MoreFor the rest of the night, I hibernate in my room. I stay up super late watching baseball bloopers on YouTube.
Read MoreBreathing hard, I unlock the back door and drop my backpack in the laundry room. I feel like I might have a collapsed lung after sprinting all the way home from the train tracks. I’m not gonna lie. I am. Freaking. The. Hell. Out. I can handle hearing my own voice, but hearing Pete’s voice – that’s way, way, WAY different.
Read MoreIt was just Pete and me riding bikes home the day he died, almost three months ago now. The fact that John wasn’t with us might seem weird, but it wasn’t. Pete hung out with John and me a lot, especially over the summer. John hated having Pete tag along, but honestly I didn’t mind.
Read MoreThose damn train tracks. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I cross them now – twice a day, five days a week – I hear the sound of my own stupid voice haunting me with, “Hey, Pete, wait up.”
Read MoreIf I weren’t still so mad that Miss Boyce called my mom last night to tell her what happened at the eighth grade graduation, I might actually be happy to see Grandma Elle this morning standing in our kitchen guzzling coffee and chomping on Wintergreen Lifesavers.
Read MoreThe next thing I know I’m being hauled out of the gym by Miss Boyce, a special ed teacher. And by “hauled out of the gym” I mean with one arm around my waist and her hand cradling my left elbow, Miss Boyce is practically carrying me on her hip with my feet sluggishly drag-walking beside her.
Read MoreEighth grade graduation is dumb. So is kindergarten graduation, but really eighth grade graduation is dumb.
Read MoreOk, let’s get this straight. I realize I’m no party animal, but I didn’t think I was a complete social retard. For once, I’m thanking God Kelli’s at church camp because she’d kill me for going to Chrissy Fletcher’s party in the first place, and she’d kill me again for using the word retard.
Read MoreThe first time I heard Pete’s voice, honestly, I freaked out. I mean the kid’s been dead since July. So, it seems logical that Pete’s my main problem right now. And he is.
Read MoreMy main problem this summer is convincing my best friend, Kelli Jenkins, we need to take serious action in our mission to becoming popular or else we risk starting high school as anonymous as we were in middle school.
Read More