I have a favorite book. A favorite book I don’t talk about very much.
When I was in the fifth grade, my mother got down from her mother’s attic a box of Trixie Belden books. I had never loved a character so much. Until I got to about the third book, and she got a best friend named Honey Wheeler. I just didn’t get it, how the strongest, funniest, most independent girl, who fought with her brothers and saved her dog from a Cottonmouth, and solved mysteries on her cruiser bike, could possibly need a sidekick. And a sidekick who was her equal in every way at that.
I read every single Trixie Belden book, from number 1 to number 39, and I never figured it out. I was so deeply jealous that I couldn’t just write a best friend into my life. Because there was no chance any sort of Honey Wheeler was going to move up the street from me. I couldn’t even imagine a world where I had a partner in crime for every ridiculous curiosity I had.
Then I got to college. And then I got to now.
And now I have the strangest urge to go back and read every single one.
"I love you like a fat kid loves cake." but I don’t think that’s true.
Lindsay, in the most platonic way possible, I love you like I loved the comfort of sleep in the depth of depression. I love you like the first moment, on October 14 when I woke up in the morning and felt nothing in my leg (it was a defined moment).
You’re my best friend, and I love you like family.
Fat Betty Francis changed my life.
"My only regret is that I have boneitis…"