Ten Years of Friendship

It’s not as hard to believe as I’d hoped, but it’s been a full ten years since I started my sophomore year of High School. It was my first year at Sherwood High, as my family had moved over the summer.

I can clearly remember my first day at the school, about a week before classes actually started- it was for Pep Band. Not Marching Band, as we rarely marched, but Pep Band. That’s when I met Heather.

If memory serves, she was the first person I introduced myself to (always an extrovert). As of this week, we’ve been friends for an entire decade.

We were in the same group that went to Great Britain for Spring Break one year. She played flute in the pit orchestra for all the school musicals. We talked about all the fun things together(as well as all the serious stuff). We’ve always been there for each other, and I hope we always will be.

I got to watch Heather take up Fencing for the first time. She took to it like a shark to water, and now captains her Graduate school’s Fencing team. Outstanding. We recommend books to each other. She’s had a thing for Catwoman for as long as I’ve known her.

Roughly a year ago, I introduced her to a friend of mine, John. I’d never played matchmaker before, or since. Still, they hit it off and were thick as thieves… It eventually ended, but they’re talking to each other, and she knows she can be there for him.

My friendship with Heather also marks the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a woman. I’ve managed to *not* screw it up by remaining platonic, not that we’ve really had a choice in the matter. Does it count as an R-word? Absolutely. Aside from two teachers, she’s the only person from High School I’ve managed to keep in touch with, consistently. She’s a Constant in my equation.

Speaking of teachers: That would be Mr. and Mrs. Reier, teachers of English and Drama at Sherwood. Mr. Reier has since retired from teaching and become a Writing Test Specialist, a role that suits him admirably.

I remember the day I met him, first day of Sophomore classes. One problem—Mr. Reier taught *Senior* English. He came into the classroom, clapped his hands together, raring to go, and asked us “How’s it feel to be Seniors?” Sufficiently dumsquizzled, I stuttered, “Uh, I’ll tell you in two years.”

He looked at me as if I had spewed expletives at him. Turned out I had been assigned to the wrong Reier. Heh heh. Oops.

Then there’s Mrs. Reier. She’s something else. She begins her 29th year of teaching this year, and it is the perfect job for her.

I think the Reiers deserve their own entry, so I’ll be polishing one up for them in the near future. Still. Here’s to ya, Heather. Rock on.