Scraps of paper

The other day while looking for someone in my high school year book, I came across some papers that had been torn out of a notebook. On these pieces of paper were a few journal entries from my senior english class.

I was in an AP Class, there was only one and we'd all been together since we were sophomores in high school. For some reason this afforded us some latitude in our general behavior in class, resembling a college course rather than a high school one.

Every class period we were supposed to write in a journal, my friend and I exchanged them with each other and often wrote for the other. He and I had been friends since grade school, I remember the first time I saw him. I was new in school (with a very thick southern accent) and he was carrying the plant for our classroom for the opening mass. I wanted to carry that damn plant and therefor instantly made it my mission to make his life hell. It didn't hurt that I thought he was cute. Ah, childhood you hate the ones you like.

So back to the papers, his journal entries are hilarious. And completely NC-17. I vaguely remember my entries to him and they were just as naughty. We were the personification of Catholic school kids with only sex on the brain.

I feel completely paranoid about sharing one of his entries, I somehow feel uncomfortable about it. I'm sure you all would not find them as hilarious as he or I would, as I read them I can hear him in my head and it makes me smile.



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