miles to go before i sleep

pasajera:

You had Mr White. What a dumb dumb man. I had him in 9th grade and I wrote horrible essays for a long time because of his crappy class. And dude, how can you remember anything about me, especially me being quiet? I always imagined myself to be invisible to people in higher grades, and we never had any classes together or anything…

The fiestas are something I do have great memories of, though (except I was the only sober person in the whooole place). It was great that anywhere you looked, bam, someone from school! I’d love to go again someday, although it obviously wouldn’t be the same.

Yes, Mr. White! He was awful. I just remember being bored to tears and hoping he didn’t try to tell me any jokes. Sometimes he’d do the “Heh heh heh heeeeeeeehn” trailing off laugh thing if you didn’t laugh with him and I always felt bad.
I think I remembered you from either basketball practice when I’d have to stay late, or maybe from hanging out with Hermann while I argued with Jack about l33t speak. I dunno, maybe I just pay attention or something, but you weren’t invisible!
I think about going back to Madrid, but almost everyone I knew and hung out with is gone now. Maybe if I’d have stayed in touch better. I do want to see the city through my eyes now, rather than my eyes then, though. I think I’d appreciate it more. I didn’t care about architecture back then, but I do now, so hey. There’s that.