Best Side

Muffy sees my best side. Even when I text her about my insecurities or rage, she sees only what I want to be. My glowing potential.

We were roommates in our second to last quarter of college. She called our room the tower because it was located at the corner of the top floor, with a peaked ceiling. It was a snowy winter, and we felt like ice princesses well before Frozen was a thing.

The school yearbook asked everyone to come by a booth at dinner for a few weeks to make sure everyone had a pic. And then they sent guerrilla photographer to nab photos of people who couldn't be bothered (me). It was nighttime. Maybe 8 PM when we heard a knock on our door. The girl said she was going to take a picture no matter what, so did I at least want to pose. I said I wanted a picture with Muffy. First we took a picture looking at each other and laughing. But I asked if we could switch sides of the bed because I was turning in and covering my good side. She said, "No, because this is my good side." She thought. "Let's both show our good sides," she concluded. We rearranged so I was facing the wall in profile and she was facing my back. She decided she would braid my hair, so it wasn't too weird. That ship had sailed for the yearbook girl, I'm sure. So, yeah, my senior picture yearbook photo is Muffy braiding my hair and both of us looking very smart about it.