I’ll be a senior in a couple of weeks, and you know what? The colors are better right now. Not from being high, but from two whole years with hardly any black and blue. No Mom buying four jars of Cover Girl Camouflage or wearing long, dark sleeves. Instead, she’s sporting flouncy sun dresses and her glowing skin shines pink.
Not that the last two years have been all rainbows. I’m not an i***t. That horrible fistfight on Catalina last year wasn’t the only one I wished I could hide in a puff of grey smoke. One race war between Stoners and Cholos made me wish I had superpowers to stop it.
I was at the fair with Lisa. We were laughing and shaking our skinny butts for every fox that walked by when this crowd started to gather near the Flying Bobs. When we trotted over to see what was happenin
