Marnie and I hung out at Burger King, downing free refills of Diet Coke and baring our souls. We tried to buy beer; when that failed, we bought Wonder Bread, tucking slices under strangers’ wipers in the parking lot.
We wrote deranged poems and dialed random numbers to recite them. We laughed endlessly, helplessly.
She’s how I survived high school.
When we met again after freshman year of college, I was wearing a t-shirt bearing Ronald Reagan’s face with a line through it.
Marnie studied my shirt for a long moment before asking, “You’re a Democrat?”
“Oh, shit,” I said.