Being raised an atheist gives you something of a desire to find spirituality wherever you can. There is this part of the human brain, it seems, that just needs to believe in something. Perhaps it’s simply fear of death, perhaps it’s something more profound, but either way–it’s there.
High school is not better. The Neanderthals all have deep voices, all the better to woo the ladies, and your queer little chortle hasn’t nudged a bit. You worry because you’ve got hair in all the right places and you’re taller than everyone else and, is this it? This is what you were waiting for?