  The sophomore English department holds a chili-cook off every year as a commencement to the technical writing unit.
My cohorts and I have been working on boring memos, business letters, and proposals for several weeks. Though I had very little part of making our “ Good Chili ”, it was a success. Members of the community and students come to school to judge the hottest, most unique, and best overall chilies. So that’s when I met Tasha’s brother. I remember reading a book once where relations between people were described; how every once and a while you met some one with whom you hear an almost audible click.
You fit together. Though this click was one-sided, it was glorious. Oh good Loooooord. Its days like today where I realize that-- no, I am not over the boy-ogling days of my pre-pubescence. I love boys, I love everything about them. There is something so completely beautiful about the shape of a boy’s shoulders, about the shape of their arms, the messiest, softest part of their bed head. The deep, but gentleness of their voices and the stony, soft glare of their eyes. I love boys. Especially when they are wearing Nirvana t-shirts, are Vegetarian, and are named Brandon. The rest of the day sort of followed that same pattern.
One of my poems was picked for this art project at school. I was, of course, excited about being selected. But all happiness was lost when I had to recite my (low-quality) poem for a recording, which will experience district-wide publication soon. On occasion, when the mood strikes or we’re practicing radicals, Anna and I pass notes in Math. Yes, this act is unashamedly pointless, but nothing makes my heart lighter than a good note-exchange. My brother went to the Emergency Room after school because the piercing in his lip was so infected he couldn’t remove the earring.
He’s recently been getting into harder drugs, and with this comes a whole new set of pals. The over-pierced, over-sexed, over-drugged metal-heads who scowl at the world through jaded eyeliner. Affectionately… Anna 
