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When I was in junior high school, I joined the debate team. I still don’t know why. I was awkward. I didn’t know how to speak up for myself at thirteen, especially when it meant arguing a point.

What I remember about being dropped off at the library for hours and hours of research was the team’s collective interest in two people. A couple. Who were dating. We followed them all over the hidden corners of the library, trying to catch them in various states of making out. Rather than report findings on our next great point for argument, we whispered about whether they kissed with tongue and whether we could see their hands and what they must be doing RIGHT NOW.Continue Reading