I remember being in a car, young, fourteen maybe, and my friend had his arm raised to point at something he was telling me about. Through the arm-hole of his shirt I could see that he had hair on his underarm. I looked – I had none myself, and didn’t know it was a possibility. He caught me, I made an excuse that I was looking out the window, and not at him, and then the topic changed.
-21 July 2015
This post is part of the I Remember series.