School.

the harrison story

His hair is blonde, his eyes are blue, he's so skinny, he's the perfect hight.

Harrison. I've been crushing on him for about 2 weeks now, I think... I don't keep track really.

"Who do you like?" Olivia asked. I was gonna tell Logan if he have me $5. Which he said he would!

"Harrison."

"Aw, how cute," she said. I stopped and turned to her, then I faced her-I walked backwards.

"Cute?"

"Yeah, it's adorable."

Pick a word, woman.

I walked out the gym/cafeteria door and into the 5th grade room.

"Where's Haley?"

"Don't know, don't care," said Brendan.

"Of course you don't."

He looked bored. Ah, boys. Their expressions can be hard to read sometimes. But at other times? They're easier than hell.

I walked out of that dungeon and into another-the 8th grade classroom.

The classroom in which Logan was.

And Haley.

Yasss, ten points! Oh I'm
so cool. "Haley, did you t-
alk to Dawson?" I asked.

Apparently, Dawson is
giving money too. Boys
are so stupid. Maybe t-
hey're high 24/7.

High people aren't exactly the brightest either.

"Ah, yes I did. Dawson doesn't have money," said Haley.

Oh, alrighty then.

"Hey, Logan. Will you pay me if I tell you who I like?" I asked him.

"Yeah."

"How much?"

He pulled out $5. "This much."

Have I described Logan's appearance? Well, he's tiny. Picture the size of an average third grader, then you've got Logan. He's the same hight. Also, he says he weighs 78 lbs. It's not too hard to believe. His hair is blonde and, well, he's almost bald. He always wears sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Usually ripped sweatpants and stained t-shirts.

And, he has glasses. Brown glasses with an x on the ends.

"$5?" I asked him. $5 for me to tell him who I like? He must be rich. Most people would say a quarter, and if you're lucky, they'll actually give it to you.

"Yep. Now tell me."

"Quan," I simply said.

"Quan?"

"Quan. Pay up."

"Ah, no. Who is Quan?" he asked.

Ugh, people and their facts these days.

"Give me the cash and I'll be more descriptive, eh?"

He handed me the money.

"Who is Quan?" he demanded.

Yeesh.

"He's this kid from Dodge Center." And that is the truth. He's my hight; but he's 13 years old. His hair is brown and he's so tan. He likes me...

I think.

"Quan from Dodge Center?"

"Well, his real name is Max, but I decided I can not be friends with some guy who has the same name as my bro, so he told me to call him Quan. And I do."

That and it was because when I met him, Max, my brother not Quan, met him. I had to ask my brother a question and so I said "Max?" and, of course, Quan said "What?" in response. He said that I should call him Quan, so I don't get his name mixed up. And because "he's a Mexican".

Or so he says.