Please for the love of god tell me we weren’t pyschos… I mean we were a little bit pyscho. It’s just another classic embarrassing story from High School me.
I grew up in a small town, and there isn’t a lot to do, so much of our nights hanging out were spent driving around and gossiping. Especially after lacrosse and field hockey practices. And much of that time driving around was spent slowly rolling down the hill that one specific hot upperclassman lived on.
You heard that right. We would all be in a car, blasting music, usually One Direction, and we would just ride up and down the hill driving past his house over and over again. It was fucking weird. And honestly, the weirdest part was that it was kind of out of the way? It was on a super duper side street that really didn’t get to any of our houses in a convenient manner. It was on the same side of town at the very least.
I wish I could put a picture in of this guy and his brothers because I think you’d understand. Without giving too much away, there were three of them and everyone always picked their favorite. Kind of the Jonas Brothers of my High School. They were some of the few hot guys at our school, so we kind of latched on.
One specific time, after the juniors and seniors went around and TPed the underclassmens houses on the lacrosse team, we drove past their house on the way home, and we were going so slowly up the hill that we got a smidge bit stuck, and my tiny little 2005 Honda Accord almost started rolling backwards down the hill. Queue us screaming, plus One Direction blasting, plus we were dressed in all black with fucking eye black on, we looked like lunatics.
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