Eighth grade is a terrible year to be a boy. One day your sitting at a lunch table, and a girl asks you to scoot over... You can't believe she spoke to you, and so you respond, "Hmmm?" She replies, "It was a simple question." She talks to you for the first time, and then it ends.
AUTHORS NOTE:
I really wanted to do something that would be a struggle for me. As a girl, summing up a preteen boy's perspective on the eighth grade was pretty tough. I just want to thank everyone who has supported me through this story. You guys mean the world to me!
