#garybradner

My experience in high school wasn’t much different from yours. 

There were cliques —  The cool girls. You know, the mean ones with sharp teeth. There were nerds. The kids who did magic tricks in the B wing of the school. You had the band geeks, too, who almost always grew up to be smoking hot. The jocks, specifically the hockey players. The ones who made you the butt of their jokes in English class and you could never pinpoint exactly why. And finally, the crippling anxiety and depression that followed you to class, Monday through Friday. Unless you were like me and averaged a three day school week (at best). 

Then I met Bobbi. 

Bobbi was a weird Christian kid with skinny, black eyebrows. She often wore slip-on shoes and tattered red flannels. Her favourite bands were Every New Day, Bane and Wounds Run Deep. She was cool, tall and a bit of an unattainable loner. I had never wanted to be friends with anyone so badly, so fervently until Bobbi. She knew the secret to find peace in solitude and I wanted in.

I remember the first time we hung out. Bobbi usually attended youth group on Friday nights. However, this particular Friday we made plans to watch movies in her basement. We drank most of a case of grapefruit soda that night with her weird, fat cat - a truly special treat. I think my love of Old Dutch Salt and Vinegar chips started here. She had obtained the first in a horror series from the music store where she - and later I - worked. That movie was called The Howling and it was the coolest fucking movie I had ever seen. Throughout the duration of the film, we mostly took pictures of each other and tried to spoon her cat. The Howling was the soundtrack to our evening; spliced with awkward chortles and laughter. It was perfect. 

Through our union of Lonely Hearts, I found the courage to force myself into unfamiliar environments and communities. I started meeting new people, going to shows and spending healthy, pro-social time with her and her family. I began reading more, writing more and listening to music. I began to attend classes more regularly as I was excited to see my new friend every day. If I were Karen White, that would make her Terry. Our high school, The Colony. Throughout the Howling, Terry fights alongside Karen and becomes part of whatever problem she faces. She doesn’t question Karen’s concerns. Instead she supports and accepts her bullshit - ready to fight. Karen White is annoying. There is no question there. But Terry loves and supports her and you can sense while watching the film how Terry’s presence soothes the presumably innate nature of Karen’s irritating ways. Karen needs Terry. Sadly, Terry dies following an altercation with werewolf bad boy Eddie Quist. And although Karen is broken up about her doucehbag husband who also meets an untimely demise, I believe wholeheartedly that Karen fights and exposes the truth about werewolves for her love of Terry. There’s something unmistaken, unshakable about female companionship. It almost cannot be put into words. Female companionship is enduring and strong. It can pull you from the darkest depths. It can support you while you trudge the steepest of hills. It knows no bounds and respects few boundaries. Neither man nor animal can come between it.  Bobbi made me realize this. Bobbi opened my eyes to the importance of boosting your girls, embracing your own unique weirdness, and the power of unflinching friendship. She rescued me. My soul, complete. I found the courage to be resilient and confident in my everyday. Bobbi's friendship single-handedly propelled me from the painfully awkward existence that is adolescence to one of a more normal lens. Without Bobbi's friendship and guidance, I don't know where I'd be today.