Here's to the girls who don't call themselves a clique, wipe that $30 Mac lipstick off your fake smile.

To the hipsters I guarantee no one's going to care that you wore black every day and died your hair purple.
Here's to the girl in my A2 class.
Here's to the lunch room eaters, and the sweatshirt wearers.
Here's to the 4.0 kids and I'm sorry I didn't come kids.
Here's to the jocks and the stance socks.
Here's to the 2 AM bedtimes and the 4 PM cry times.
Here's to the kids alone in the hallways.
Here's to the football, basketball, soccer and baseball players who sit by the knight.
Here's to my seminary teacher... I'm sorry
Here's to the boys who hold their heads high in the hallways, look around you're, not as cool as you think.
Here's to the friday night football games and baby powder.
here's to my A4 class
And Mr. Nelson...thank you
He's too my best friends, and my fake friends.
Here's to the classrooms and the commons
the dances and black lights.
Here's to knighting and trucks.
Here's to my unmade bed.
here's to the dirty looks and the I promise I didn't steal your boyfriend.

Heres to Hunter
And Terick.

Here's to writing and rewriting and seeing.
Here's to the kids in the front row of our class, keep your heads down because I bet if you looked up something would change you.

Here's to the half of you who hate me now, a third of you who despise me, and a few who want me to write stories on the back of your eyelids.

Here's to you, I love you.

And here's, here's to me, because if I didn't say it who else would?

Here's to this, here's to high school.