Minnie was one of the smartest girls in the school.
Those of us who paid any attention knew she was the one to ask for help. She was always the first to raise her hand and always got better test scores than everyone else in class. You could even see her intelligence in her eyes, in the way she stared at you like she was trying to figure out what to think of the person who currently had her attention.
The first time we spoke was on a Friday evening. I was going to my biology class.
She ran up to me, her already-unruly hair sticking up around her face.
“I’m sorry,” she chirped. “I’m. Um. I wasn’t here for history.”
I stared blankly at her for a minute. “Okay?” Did I have history with her? “Which class do you have?”
“Guanter. 12 o’clock.”
Yes, I did. “I have the notes.” I scrawled my name and number on a notepad and handed it to her. “Call me later. I’ll copy them and give them to you.”
I never knew how much would change because of that.