All That is Gold Does Not Glitter

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1 CE: Calvin Era

Flag football tryouts turned into practices turned into games turned into post-game pizza and movies.

Post-game pizza and movies made us realize we both played guitar, which turned into jam sessions, which turned into songwriting and dreaming of being a band.

“Band” practices (more like two kids strumming their six-strings interrupted by bouts of bad poetry) became skateboarding, and laser tag at the arcade, and sneaking into cemeteries on full moons to scare ourselves, and rolling our eyes at the popular kids, and saving seats at lunch, and letting me cheat off him on tests, and swapping mix tapes, and groaning about our parents, and telling each other everything. Every school dance, we ditched together. Every party we weren’t invited to, we movie-marathon’d together. Every pep rally, we sat in in the nosebleed seats bantering about the stupidity of American Public School. We wrote manifestos and raved about dismantling the establishment.

It was like that for five years. Sixth through tenth grade. And then-

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