|My future husband and I having a picnic. I'm 17, he's 19. We don't yet know that Mountain Dew is disgusting.|
In elementary school, I had a crush on a boy in my class named Keith.* He was blonde and skinny and grew up to be a drug addict, but at the time, we were two innocent schoolkids. On the second to last day of fifth grade, we decided we were "dating," and then proceeded to not see each other for the rest of the summer. We had only a tenuous grasp on the concept.
|Likes to run. Not very nice to boys.|
So, I'll leave it up to you, readers. Which one of these was actually my first date?
*Of course this is not his real name.
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