“While I was getting boogers wiped in my hair during Biology, he was being spit on in Social Studies.
A common story.
But there was a day, a sunny day in May, I’m sure, when at exactly 2 P.M., we both looked out of the window of our different schools and … What?

We didn’t wish—wishes are wasted …
We didn’t hope—because our future was inevitable …
And we didn’t pray—we were on our own.
So we sent out energy bullets: “This is for New York.”
“This is for when I get there.”
Little pockets of energy, to be saved and accumulated and used upon arrival.

I was so scared it was all going to be gone by the time I got there. Ninth grade, tenth grade—can’t this thing go any faster?

In the magazine, there were funny people with funny names like John Sex, who had wild white hair and a snake!—and didn’t that just open up a kaleidoscope of new possibilities?
And how long the years are—endless! And the minutiae of your daily life! So tedious, when there are BIG THINGS happening a thousand miles away. And when you go to bed at night, it’s hard to believe those people, those fabulous, daunting people, are out there right now!
So we wait, and we endure, and someday we will be there, and we will make it.

And, by golly, we did.”