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I was at the back of our crew, and I didn’t break stride as I held up er

CHAPTER THREE

"He’s more myself than I am

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same"

~Emily Brontë

PAST

The first tiht outside of the vice principal’s office in fourth grade

We’d both just been busted for fighting

It wasn’t the first time we’d ether, but I remembered very clearly that it was the first time I realized ere alike That there was another kid like e, all of the insecurity and anger I carried around with me every second of the day

On the outside, ere opposites in al

My clothes were too small and threadbare; his fit hi, untrained eye that I’d have been afraid to touch therubby hands

Even his hair was perfect Not short like the other boys, but not long either Styled with gel and parted on the side No other boys had hair like hile day before school

Mine was a long, tangled mess that I hadn’t brushed in days

He s spicy and pleasant

I just smelled

He was filthy rich

I was dirt poor

But we did have a few, crucial things that matched: Bad attitudes and worse tempers

I swear I was born with a chip on s than soft ones And so when there was a soft thing I was doubly defensive of it Willing to fight for it Hard and often

Willing to pull that stupid girl’s hair until I ripped great big hunks of it out toit out

I looked down atblonde strands, and I hadn’t even known it