It’s been years since I got that teen-crush feeling. When I was younger my walls were plastered with celebrity crushes – mostly thanks to pages cut from Just 17 magazine (which, incidentally, was perfect for a thirteen year old but by the time I hit 17 seemed childish and disappointing). There were guys I fancied, guys I vaguely thought might be decent boyfriend material, and guys I’d stare at for hours imagining exactly how they’d come in for a kiss. Taj out of 3T had the best pre-kiss build up, if I remember my youthful fantasies correctly.

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