1. He bought me lilies for our one month anniversary. I put them in a water bottle in my locker. They died. They were too pretty for high school and I hated him after three months.
2. He got very high on a Thursday and told me that he hated his hair. I loved him immediately.
3. He left his house because I told him that I was sad and pretty. We lay in the grass and kissed under the street lamps and weren’t afraid of being hit by cars. It was only nice once.
4. He told me he had always wondered what it would be like to kiss me. I couldn’t resist that. He tried to put his hands in my pockets and I told him it wasn’t cute.
5. He got me drunk.
6. He asked me to be his strip poker partner. I don’t really know how to play poker but I think we may have lost on purpose. A few months later I found out he got into Cornell. I was happy for him.
7. He kissed me on the staircase and we blocked people’s paths. He gave me a hickey right in the middle of my neck as if he wanted my mother to hate me.
8. He touched me with both sides of his hands and when I asked him why he said it was because he wanted to.
9. He bought me a notebook but I was afraid that none of my thoughts would be lovely enough for it so I just carried it around, blank, for months. Maybe years.
10. He fell asleep next to me and dreamed about me so hard that he woke up after an hour and he had to kiss me. I think he breathed my name into my chest but I couldn’t be sure. He said he loved my shoulder: the left one, not the right.”
There are no Jack Kerouacs or Holden Caulfields for girls. Literary girls don’t take road-trips to find themselves; they take trips to find men.
"Great" books, as defined by the Western canon, didn’t contain female protagonists I could admire. In fact, they barely contained female protagonists at all.”