Your hair was in this half-hearted messy bun and you had on this thin, floppy sweatshirt with a faded outline of a cartoon rabbit on it and you were wearing some of the rattiest, most torn-up-and-painted-on jeans I had ever seen and I think that you were gorgeous.

Anna seemed off.

I open the card tentatively. It was addressed in her handwriting, and Lord knows I can't stand being around her for very long. It's too hard, to be totally honest. She just blows my mind with her every molecule and I can't stand it.

At age fifteen I became enamored with a particular girl in my Biology class.

Henry looked down. "Oh dear," he thought, "there's ink on my arm."

Perhaps a Ferris wheel at a carnival wasn't the best way to celebrate freshman year being over. The sunset was backlighting her face, and her tank top was sorta slipping to where I could see just a little cleavage, but Jesus Christ it was perfect cleavage. I mean, she was. I mean, she wasn't perfect cleavage, only her cleavage was perfect cleavage- you get my point.

I am not a stalker, I promise. I just really like her, and that's not weird. I promise.

Prompted by Reddit User William gfl gfs : A story where death meets a young kid. And kid grows up to be more.