Holly.

I met Holly the same day I met Lauren. Just a few hours earlier. It was the first day of 7th grade when the kids who lived in hapeville were rezoned to our middle school from the "other, more ghetto middle school" to quote myself. Among those transfered were Barbie, her now husband, and Holly, all who were in my homeroom.

She and I were fast friends. I'm not sure why. We were so different. Holly was an outgoing, brunette, white girl, born and raised in the 'ville, and I was, well, at that time I was still trying to adjust with living in Atlanta and being outside of anything remotely familiar to me. It required a lot of quietness and asking, "what does that mean?" like now, I was open to bring friends with just about anyone who seemed genuine and interesting to me.

So anyway Holly and I became friends. We shared random thoughts, inside jokes and great music. We seemed very excepting of each other as we were. No pretenses. She introduced me to the local alternative station and the wonders of Bush (and subsequently leading to my insane crush on Gwen stefani's husband), "meloncholy and the infinite sadness," and Sublime's self titled album, which was essentially my life soundtrack. I was quiet and in awe, Holly was full of life and exuberance.

We tried out for cheerleading together. I honestly think she was a big part of the reason I didn't make it. She tried out for my sake, so I would have moral support. But it was all a joke to her, and I don't think even she herself believed she could be a part of a group whose sole purpose was to be happy and make others happy in the process. And plus she couldn't jump to save her life. And rhythm was not her thing. And while I wanted to belong somewhere, I already belonged with her, so I joked right along with her, and missed my chance to be a Wolverine.

One day, I think it was early spring, our phone rang at about 7am. My mom answered.

"no, she's not here. Sure will. Ok. Ok. Ok. Bye." my mom asked me if I'd seen Holly or if she had called or came by. Of all my friends, Holly was the only one who had never actually been to my house. We talked every day, but I don't think she was the type of character who my mom would get along with. As far as Lauren and "the other Lauren," my other 2 friends at the time, they may have had their pre-teen troubles, but they also had home training. Meanwhile holly's mother didn't even know where her child WAS. Anytime she's brought up today, my mom always iterates the same phrase, "that lil girl had issues."

I came to school devastated that day. I immediately assumed the worst. I asked the Laurens, and Holly's ex boyfriend if they had heard from her. Of course the answer was no, but her ex wanted to be a dick about things. "I hope she got kidnapped."

This set me off. I charged at him, the biggest kid in our class (year older too; we had multi-grade classes), and screamed at him with tears in my eyes. "she could be dead you asshole!!" of course Dad, at the time our math teacher, didn't take too kindly to my language, especially since Holly was strolling down the hallway, completely unaware of all the drama. I never did find out where she was the night before.

After that, things got more interesting, and not in a good way. Hindsight is 20/20, but at the time I didn't know any of what I know now.

Holly died her hair blue. It actually looked cool. The contrast to her wavy brown hair, and the fact that she used jazzing, made it so you could only tell in certain lights. I remember when she showed it off: we were in 8th grade by then, and I hadn't seen her in a week or 2. She came into homeroom and asked to listen to my walkman with me, which was our morning norm. You know, when she was around. As I handed her the disassembled left headphone and held on to the right, my emotions surged. "where have you been?" "oh, I was sick." part of me didn't believe her, but part of me didn't care. I swallowed my thoughts and we laughed along to the morning drive radio shows. She was here now, right?

By "Joy the adult"s standards, she was not there. She would pick conflicts with our homeroom teacher, even going as far as saying, "I'm going to go to the bathroom and kill myself. I've got some pills in my pocket." To which our teacher replied, "well, it was nice knowing you. Thanks for making my job easier by leaving." of course Ms H was just calling her bluff, but I had never heard such an exchange, and I sat there stunned and scared. Our friend Karen was so pissed SHE actually walked out of the room after yelling at Holly that it wasn't a joke to say those things and that we were all crazy. And Holly, of course, did not attempt to kill herself, at least not in a quick and final way, not that day.

Holly never finished 8th grade.
I didn't see her during the last quarter of 8th grade. She didn't participate in our 8th grade graduation, or anyone's for that matter. From time to time I would think about her, wonder where she was, how she was. I have only one picture of her: we and the 2 Laurens at the renaissance festival, looking happy. She spent that day looking for jewelry to steal from the vendors there.

Life went on for me, and I hadn't thought about her much after about 10th grade. One day when sitting with Kesi in his econ class (they had a substitute and I had already long since dropped my 2nd block class), the sub put in a "very important" documentary about the Georgia juvenile detention system. Of course no one was really watching, but something caught my attention when I was looking in the general direction of the tv.

"I'm Holly, I dropped out in 8th grade."

Oh my lord! I asked the sub if I could rewind the tape so I could see if it was really her. She sat with 4 girls, all in juvie uniforms, talking about how they ended up in the detention center. Apparently she had done drugs for a while since I'd known her, and was found on "intent to distribute." she looked the same, maybe a little taller, a little thinner. But in this moment it was like a sort of closure I never known I needed. This girl I had once cared about was on a screen in front of me, talking about how out of control her life was when she knew me, when we were friends. And I had thought we were so kindred.

These days I can't think of 7th grade or my love of music without thinking of her. I can't hear sublime's "what I got" or remember middle school without imagining Holly. I'm still not able to put what she gave me into a cohesive sentence, but I know I'd be a different person if not for her. I wish she could have been a different person because of me.
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