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That sounded like utter bullshit to me and I went to look it up on my phone, but my favorite teacher Ms. Thomas said you only have to be eighteen to buy them. I asked him whether it was illegal for me to smoke, since I was still seventeen at the time. We stood at the edge of school grounds where it’s almost allowed and smoked four of them. He bought a pack of cigarettes with six dollars and the law on his side. He turned eighteen exactly one month before me. But there are just as many things I wouldn’t give up in a million years-take my friendship with Thomas Chu for example. There are plenty of bullshit facts about my life that I wish I could change. I could see that being a double-edged sword for many people. Granted, there are plenty of things you can do when you’re eighteen that you couldn’t before, but unless some life-altering event coincides with your birthday, you’re probably going to feel the same way you always did. Here’s the thing nobody told me about turning eighteen: Everything stays the same. I figure a story has to start somewhere, so the day I turn eighteen might as well be it. And even then, whether you really capital-K-Know them is anybody’s guess. There’s a rhythm to these things, a certain dosage of time and circumstance spent with someone before you start to get familiar. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned after eighteen years on the planet, it’s that nobody-and I mean nobody-can be figured out in two paragraphs. It’s not that I think I’m complicated or anything. If you want to get a sense of me from a paragraph or two, good luck. Let me warn you now that I’m pretty bad at introductions.