Senior year of high school I had a massive Romeo and Juliet kinda crush on a boy in one of my classes. His secret name was Hawn, so that my friends and I could talk about him openly without anyone overhearing and finding out who I liked. Hawn and I never spoke or anything, it was just one of those we-locked-eyes-across-a-crowded-classroom moments that made my stomach flip and my heart go pitter-pat-thumpity-thump. He was super cute, with wavy brown hair and a faraway, pothead look in his eyes, and I used to daydream about him asking me to prom and then our falling hopelessly in love and living happily ever after together. As if! Oh, and he drove the raddest car ever. One time, while driving around with friends, listening to grunge music too loud, and smoking in my mother's car without her permission, we went down his street and I snapped this drive-by style photo of his Camaro. You can't see, but it had black racing stripes across the trunk, roof, and hood. So cool.
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