Chapter 1

I had met Oswald Hirsch in the second grade. It’s funny, but when he moved away in the seventh grade we lost touch. No, it’s not funny. It’s actually one of the saddest things to ever happen to me. He was my best friend.

Oswald was the only kid shorter than I was. He was really chubby and kids picked on him a lot. I remember the day we first met. Some kids from the fourth grade class were throwing food at him. Who does that?

I, being a superhero in disguise, took it upon myself to fight for justice and righteousness. I threw my shoe and hit one of them in the face. I got suspended for two days.

When I got back to school, we were friends. It was nice. I mean, I didn’t really have any friends and he definitely didn’t have any friends, so it worked out wonderfully. I’ve missed him, but life goes on. I made a new friend, named Harry. He’s gay, like me.

Harry is a bit taller than me at 5’11. I’m a bit below 5’8 and about 145 pounds. Harry is a bit geeky and he wears glasses. I remember Oswald wore glasses, really thick ones. He had braces too. We got them around the same time as one another. Ahh, adolescence. How refreshing!

Harry likes comic books and all of that type of stuff. I’m really into photography. Well, taking pictures. Ha-ha. It’s just nice capturing a moment. That way you won’t forget the way someone looks, or how someone was feeling. I have loads of pictures of me and Harry, my parents, my cat Archie, my house, grass, trees…it goes on and on.

Summer break had started a week ago and I have done absolutely nothing. But it’s to be expected, I always have the least eventful summers. The best part is my birthday, but even that’s not too far above a level of major suckage.

I was up and about before nine. Why lay in bed all day? I had a bowl of cereal and headed out to the library. Sad and boring and lame and….what’s the word? Uneventful. I could’ve called Harry, but he talks so much we’d probably get kicked out, again.

I walked straight past Doris, the librarian, towards the adult fiction section. I was probably going to check out a horror book, or maybe something depressing. I could pick a favorite and go with “Hills of Sorrow,” but I had just read that one.

It’s about a Middle Eastern girl who is married off to a vicious older man. She dies in the end. Talk about sad, but her daughter escapes to America before she can be married off to one of her dad’s friends. At least that’s not AS depressing.

I grabbed the book and thumbed through it. I loved the way books smelled. It was so papery. I feel like I’m the only one who ever checks out this book, it’s so good I don’t see why it isn’t flying off the shelf. It's must have won at least a kajillion awards.

“That’s a great book.” I heard someone say. I turned and looked at a guy, who in accordance with major stereotypes, I wouldn’t even expect to be able to read a book.

He was taller than Mike Flowers, and Mike Flowers was at least 6’3. Mike Flowers is a guy I honestly believe can’t read. He’s dumber than dirt... dumber than dumb.

How dare this handsome stranger assume I hadn’t read one of the best books ever! “Oh, I’ve read it before…at least three times.” His eyebrows rose, like he was impressed. “What did you think of the book?” I asked.

“Totally depressing, but brilliantly written.” He said. I smiled. It was like he had been reading my mind.

“I agree. Are you new here or something?” With one high school in a town, you know everyone. “I haven’t seen you around before…”

“Well, I’m not all that new, my family just moved back into town.” He said.