September 8th, 1991
Dear Charlie,
I'm not sure if you want me to congratulate you on the bully incident or give you a hug. Technically, the latter is impossible through handwriting, so I hope whatever I say here comes off all right instead. I'm not sure you handled it the best, but I'm sure you've heard that lecture about a gazillion times (I have, trust me) so don't worry too much. He'll leave you alone. Also, swirlies are bad for your hair and toilet. I don't recommend them over conditioner.) It's not a bad thing to cry, at least, not as far as I know. Just make sure you have some tears to spare, okay? You're a good kid. Or is that a good egg?
High school is like that. Heck, college is like that. I've found it has something to do with how our bodies work. They can change because of our hormones, and sometimes that affects our heads too. Also, society has a few weird ideas for girls and boys. It doesn't always make us happy, but it looks like it should.
Football, huh? Sorry, Charlie (hah, did you see what I did there?), but football is my friend's sport, not mine. I know, scandalous. Unfortunately, I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork. It ruins the urge to go watch people tackle each other. Especially with your brains bouncing around like egg yolks. Eww, right?
Don't worry, Charlie, I'm your friend. You've already got a foot in the door.
Forever yours,
Zach
