Probably the best thing I read in high school was a story called Bartleby the Scrivener.  If you haven’t read it, it’s about an adult who gets hired for a fairly menial job and then manages to refuse to do it (or anything else) so charmingly that his whole office tolerates his lack of industry and keeps him on staff.  Eventually, Bartleby’s refusal to do anything leads to his incarceration and death of starvation, despite his former employer bribing the guards to give him extra food.  There’s probably more to it than that, but to my young mind the romance of declining to engage was plenty to chew on...

Growing up is a difficult thing to do, but there’s not a lot of choice about it.  When I was a teen I was basically a good kid, though I managed to get into a lot of trouble anyway.  My parents didn’t know why this was happening, my sister didn’t know why this was happening, and I certainly didn’t know why this was happening.  And while I think I know now, the best I can say is I have an educated guess that has helpfully contextualized my own struggle through adolescence and into adulthood...