His smell, his eyes, his face, his back, his hair, the way his clothes fit his body, the way he walks, the way he smiles. This is what drives me crazy. This is what drives me, period. Ever since the 7th grade, when little Harper Hill pointed a stubby finger through the air at the new kid. He's different and I know it. He's beautiful, and I see it. He could send shivers swimming up and down my spine, all through my arms, legs, hands, feet, toes, fingers. What happens when we meet? It's nothing I expected. This is my story. This is our story. This is the first time that a caged bird was set free.