I also relished hearing about her high school years, loved the stories she told me about her crew of friends, who were equally competitive and focused, but whom she would go to house parties with just to steal the alcohol and go hang out in a city park until three in the morning. I wished I had known her then. I wished I hadn’t been the one who stayed at the house party, waiting for some future frat boy to notice me and finger me by the washing machine.
