I love Nate so goddamn much. Seriously. I came to school today, on my 15th birthday, and was completely ignored by everyone I walked by, once again. I had to push through the middle of a tonguing session between a Grade 11 and her creep of a boyfriend, just to get to my locker. But what did I see hanging in the back when I unlocked it, today? A Thunder Thursday Tobuscus shirt. There was note attached to it that said, "Nate loves you, hun."
My hand flew up to my mouth and I stared in awe for a minute or two. By the time I managed to make my limbs work again, everyone had cleared the hallways and hurried to class. I dropped my bag in front of my wide open locker, grabbed the t-shirt, and sprinted down the hallway towards the bathroom. There was a girl occupying one of the stalls, but I seriously did not care. I ripped my jacket and my tank off, and stuffed my huge-ass head through the brand new neck hole of these gorgeous top. When the girl emerged from her stall, she stopped in her tracks and cocked her head a little to the left while she glared at me with confusion. She was looking at a tall, slightly stalky 15-year-old in a gray graphic tee, with streams of tears running down her cheeks – turned black from the running catliner. Without switching my glance from the mirror, I murmured the words, "Toby'll sign it in Sharpie. When I get to Vidcon. Black Sharpie. Straight across the front." I decided I'd turn to face the girl, "I just need to get through Finals week. One more week. That's all. Then I'll be there. With him. One more week."
