I remember when I first met Ashlee. She and I had honors English class together. I wasn't very popular (as she was) and she and I didn't really share a group of friends or interests, really. Or so I thought. One day she approached me (I vividly remember she was wearing jean overalls and in the breast pocket she had clipped her red pager.) and asked me if it was okay with me if she copied down some of my poems. Albeit flattered I was sort of stunned (this girl had never spoken to me before!)And, blushing, I told her yes. She went on to explain that she was compiling a book of her favorite poems, and apparently she enjoyed mine. That was the moment I started to think maybe, on some level, she understood me....perhaps we weren't so different afterall. Later in the summer I found out she had passed away. I was 15 (with a learners permit to drive) and my mother and step father had bought me a car. They were out of town that weekend and I literally stole my own car so I could attend Ashlee's viewing. I wrote one last poem for her after the viewing entitled Teen Angel, however, I will not disclose it's contents. She knows, I'm sure. It's been many many years since she passed and I can't help but think of her from time to time.