She Wore Long Boots And High-Collars, Giving Away How Short She Looked And How Stupid She Felt.

Her binder was vague, with duct-tape and old pieces of baby-box cardboard, and spiral ink-designs.

I wanted to get in fights with her. Drop big, unnecessary words when we saw each other outside of school, holding her hands to keep them from hitting herself.

She meant everything she said and I couldn't understand a thing.

And I never wanted it to stop.