Chapter Four AvaIt has easily been almost ten years since I cracked the spine on my high school yearbook, but after seeing more of the star of my freshman fantasies than fifteen-year-old me ever dreamt up, I find myself wanting to wander down memory lane. Last night’s dreams featured an alternate reality where I was allowed to touch and tease Barrett, watching his eyes darken with lust. Waking up to the reality that I had ogled his package for a solid minute somehow felt less magical and a hell of a lot more awkward.
But wanting to hold on to my fantasy a little longer, I roll out of bed and scan the bookshelf until my finger falls upon the familiar bright blue plastic binding of my sophomore year edition of the Harrison High yearbook. I settle back into bed, flipping past football photos
