Heather and I met when we were in second grade. By fourth grade we were smoking at the school playground anytime we could sneak there. She was my best friend. I haven't seen her in 25 years, but I remember her from the platform sandles to the bone-straight hair. I remember when she permed it--I thought that was so cool. I remember when her acne went insane, and years later when she got skin treatments that made it go away, I remember our clothes, her cotton shirt, I remember teaming up to take packs of cigarettes from the grocery store, I remember the way she walked--that kind of walk some teenage girls have where they swing their arms like they're bowling with both hands.
I hope she's doing okay. I miss ya Heather.