What a cold and rainy day. Where on Earth is the sun hid away?

That first day my Freshmen year of high school was daunting and exciting all at once. I had only been in Virginia a year, and what a horrible year it was. I discovered very quickly that I wouldn’t be the cool kid here, I couldn’t afford it. While the Guess, Limited, and Express tags adorned my classmates outfits, I was just getting used to not wearing Wrangler jeans, weird tropical shirts and cokebottle specs. This first day I would be embarking on my journey through high school and my mom made sure I was presentable. Donning my new Benetton Tee and matching skirt ensemble, not to mention bandanna headband to boot. That summer I was building relationships with upperclass skate rats and misfits discovering underground music, yet I had not realized my full awakening of my inner “Allison” and was concentrating on a more attractively outfitted “Claire”. Alas, this is not about my fashion trajectory, but about the first few weeks of walking down the halls of Douglas S. Freeman and who I would meet.

I was never good at being outgoing then, so my meeting friends was through other people. You were a Sophomore. I met you randomly through a new friend some guy friends I met during summer. I had another new acquaintance whom was said to be my more attractive, bustier and my taller doppelgänger. We became a friendly foursome of females and I do recall it was quite natural and organic the way we became friends. You were the cool kids for sure, punk, quirky and eclectic. It oozed off of your particular circle. I didn’t know where I belonged then, but I knew what I liked and it was a bit of an ego boost to be hanging out with Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors alike.

I remember your dark bob with a bit of curl in it. You were like this petite little fairy of a girl, easy going and mature. You had alabaster skin, a bob haircut, and dark features, and I loved your sense of style…always monochrome, save the hippie skirts we all donned during that time, RIP Sunny Day! You also had an accent I was never able to place, I don’t think we ever talked about your Scouse upbringing, weirdly enough. We would soon be lunch buddies who sat out basking in the sun on the front lawn of the school. You were funny and you got my funny. As with all teenagers, our bond came from the ever adhesive and connective tissue of music. You and I would talk about records we were listening to while making fun of cheerleaders. We talked about our crushes and we skipped classes together. You weren’t hesitant with things you disliked and I liked that about you. We got along swimmingly, and as with all teenage paths, thinking we have forever, friendships last but a moment in time— impactful, spiritual, and then poof, you’re gone.

You and I never quarreled. I think the dissipation of our friendship came as naturally as our meeting, but we never stopped greeting each other in the hallways. Sometimes you were quiet, but what I recall the most was when you smiled or laughed. It was bright, and I saw it more often than not. I loved how individual you were, your style was memorable, darkly bohemian. After we became friends I realized coolness didn’t come from the desired labels, but rather the “fuck all” attitude of my newfound posse. You were a good friend to me as we maneuvered through adolescence there against those lockers, meeting each early morning.

It is rare to meet an entire family that becomes so intertwined in one’s lifespan. Ours was a brief encounter with slight reconnects, but sprouted in many branches. Your cousin being the predecessor starting in 8th grade to your sister who would become my roommate and friend for life to your brother-in-law who remains a fixture and a constant reminder of a lifetime of good times, to your father and uncle who I couldn’t wait to see each week at the pub and if I got your mother and aunt, it would be twice the treat. My point being, you left a beautiful family behind, and I only hope it was to find the peace you so sought. I will always remember you, that sweet smile and great laugh, while we basked on the lawn reciting lyrics from our favorite bands at the time, planning a shopping trip to Sunny Day and Bohannon’s. I hope the demons have quieted and you can now rest, for you will be missed by many and I’m thankful for the time you and I had together walking those hallways, singing those songs, writing those notes.