From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m hunched over my desk, the rough, injection-molded plastic of my new He-Man figure digging into my palm as I try to hide him from the teacher. My corduroy pants are making that annoying *shush-shush* sound every time I shift, and all I can think about is getting to the theater tonight to see *Halloween II* and feel that cold vinyl theater seat beneath me. I caught a glimpse of the morning paper and rolled my eyes at the headline, **SPECIALITY FOOD EXPLOSION: WHERE WILL IT END?**, as if anyone actually cares about fancy cheese when I’m starving for a burger. I’ve got "Arthur's Theme" stuck in my head on a loop, the melody humming through my teeth while I trace the sharp, metallic edges of my locker.