When I wasn't scampering off to a Kill Hannah concert at Metro, the weekend nights of my high school years were spent in McHenry County, about an hour and some from Chicago. My high school experiences with friends were relatively tame, playing "night games" (think glorified freeze tag) after a standard routine of dinner at Applebee's or Olive Garden and then a movie or the mall.
Now in our 20s, the group of eight is now two, as Erin and I are the only ones remaining close, minus a few sporadic text messages. – That's why it was weird that Becky left me a voicemail last night. It was even weirder to hear her voice say the words: "Joree died."
My mind immediately clouded with a mix of unanswered questions and memories of the experiences we shared. Wasn't it just yesterday... I was sitting in the passenger seat of Joree's forest green Honda Civic, listening to Eminem's "Without Me" at full blast and speeding up to the K-Mart parking lot, thinking we were the coolest kids in Woodstock, Ill.? (p.s. We were!)
It was always an adventure with Joree. During our group's 2002 vacation to Wisconsin Dells, tourist trap emporium and land of excessively airbrushed t-shirts, she lost her phone, broke a lamp, fought and subsequently made up with everyone, and swung from a bungee cord with Erin and I (after the picture to the left was taken – and yes, I'm the ginger. Joree is the blonde).Joree was quick to joke, especially if it was something sexual (i.e., her name rhyming with "whoree") and even quicker with words of support. I never expected to be reading her obituary, especially at 24. I hope wherever Joree is, she knows she had a profound impact on my life - and it's obvious I'm not the only one.
After we talked out the situation, Erin and I drove to the nearest Applebee's, as we would've done in high school, and toasted our friend.
