Category

Realistic Fiction

Category

I met Oba at high school. When I had to go through eleventh grade a second time, I found myself among teenagers that were roughly one and a half year younger than me and Oba was one of them. For no explicable reason we immediately stuck together. Although he was younger than I, I thought when we first began to roam around the school that he had a certain maturity about him that literally fascinated me. Everything about him fascinated me. He was a few inches smaller than me, around five foot seven, and I remember quite well that even though I was not into boys I could not help but find him handsome. Had I had the chance or the possibility to look like someone else, he would have been that person: the athletic build, the short black hair which, he sometimes shaved to expose his perfectly shaped skull,…