Band of Boys.
I've never quite known how to be one of the girls. Not for lack of trying, mind you. But somewhere along the way, I found myself surrounded by boys. And wouldn't you know it— everyone had something to say. "Men and women can't be friends. Someone always wants more. Someone always gets hurt." Funny. Nobody ever warned me about the chili. Or the friend who makes it for an event I won't attend, sending some down the drive just because he knows I like it. Or the one who checks up on me when he's the one who's drunk, singing System of a Down in the middle of my living room. One brings the tequila, another brings the water. One makes sure I've eaten when I've spent the whole evening feeding everybody else. Another stands beside me at the sink, drying vintage dishes that can't go in the dishwasher, while laughter spills from the next room and neither of us minds missing out. One stays late to stack lawn chairs long after the fire dies. Another bri...
