me and a long haired, dimple-smiled sorta grunge burn out version of Graham Patric Martin, and we’re back in high school. And I’m in all my honors classes, and I’m a good girl, you know, and he’s kind of a garage band type. and i’m at the book fair with the teachers, looking at his curriculum, and my curriculum and i get a mental image of him of strong, doesn’t care, does what he has to to get what he wants. quiet, thoughtful, channeling bernie rabinowicz. and one day he smiles at me, and pulls me in his arms and he’s so strong and it feels safe, and i don’t care what anyone thinks, i’m his. and i go to his apartment, meet his parents, who are kind of drunken wastes, and he takes me to his room. he shares with his little brother, two twin beds, with an enormous yellow and blue striped flag on the wall with all his bad posters, and he comes out of the shower with his hair dripping and he looks so hot with his arms and his abs. he kisses me, and i am melting, and i sit in front of him, leaning back against his chest , and his arms are around me, and we talk till i fall asleep with him wrapped around me. I wake up in his bed, and find him sleeping on the couch in the living room while his parents are getting ready for work.