It was Samantha, with Madison and a few other cronies who’s names I’ve forgotten over the years standing just behind her. I gave Madison a look and she just looked away.

“Hi,” she said brightly to Ashley.

I knew she would. Ashley’s clothing screamed cool. Her bag was one of those name brand ones you know, with the million pockets. She was wearing converse sneakers and jeans that screamed Levi. Topped off by the faux leather jacket, it was all very cool, and there was no WAY that Samantha Perry was going to overlook that.

“Hi,” Ashley said, vaguely amused.

“I’m Samantha,”

Ashley nodded, giving me a quick sideways look of ‘What the hell?’, before saying “Ashley.”

“Where are you from,”

What was this, the third degree? I wanted to jump in, to protect her and tell Sam to fuck the hell off and leave us alone. But I didn’t have the guts, and besides, I’d never swear out loud. Not then anyway, not when I was still the good girl.

“L.A.” Ashley said coolly.

“Oh my god that’s so cool!” Sam cooed. “You must have had so much fun! I’ve always wanted to go to L.A.!”

Great, she was ingratiating herself with my friend. How long before she got the point across that she was cool and I was a loser and Ashley had better align herself fast before accidents happened.

“It’s ok,” Ashley said non-committally, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“Do you listen to Nirvana?” Sam said chirpily, as though the conversation were actually being held up by both ends. “They’re so cool,”

“Yeah,” Ashley nodded. “They’re pretty cool. Dave Grohl is really nice.”

That comment sank in the waves for a bit before Sam erupted out of the silence, “Oh my GOD! You’ve met Dave Grohl?”

“Uh huh,” Ashley said, biting her sandwich again. I don’t know if it was purposeful or unwitting but she’d just promoted herself to queen of the school. There was officially no one cooler than her. Not that I listened to Nirvana, I was kinda still stuck on Madonna and, I cringe at the memory, Boyz II Men, but still, she was cool.

“You have to come tell us all about it,” Sam squeaked. “We’re sitting over there,” she pointed to the ‘cool kids table’.

“Uh, I’m sitting here,” Ashley said comfortably.

Sam looked at me, and then Ashley. “You don’t have to you know, you can come eat with us.” Her meaning was unmistakable – ‘Hey Ash, um, loser alert at two feet radius, you might wanna ditch the tard before your rep takes a beating.’

Ashley didn’t bite.

“Maybe another day,” she shrugged.

It was such an obvious brush off that Samantha Perry was forced to take her minions and leave with a bright smile. She didn’t say anything back for fear of losing all future prospect of being Ashley Davies friend. My heart was swelling with pride at my new friends nonchalance.

“I hate people like that,” Ashley said, once they’d gone.

“The cool kids?” I asked, finishing off my sandwich.

“They’re not cool, they’re fake.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh, “but around here, they’re the cool kids.”

Ashley shrugged.

“Do you want half my brownie?” I offered.

“Serious?”

“Yeah, off course.”

And with that, I knew for the first time ever that Ashley was a truly cool person. She saw through plastic and fake with one glance of her powerful x-ray vision and she ate half my brownie. She became my hero, my wonder woman, and I worshipped her from that day on.

Obviously there’s more to this story because we were thirteen and as I think about it, I’m just finishing off a lousy sandwich in a lousy diner and it’s starting to rain. I will find her you know, seven years later, I will find her.

But not today.