Sometimes, Idina and I liked to sleep downstairs so we could talk all night without getting scolded by our parents (who accurately believe teenagers need sleep). On one such night, Idina and I were talking about everything in general, nothing in particular, when Idina took my hand and whispered, "Don't ever get an eating disorder."
I squeezed her hand, chilled by the seriousness in her voice. "I won't, I promise," I reassured her.
"No, I mean it. Don't ever get an eating disorder. They're not what they claim to be."
"I know. I won't ever get an eating disorder. I promise."
Idina smiled - I could tell she was smiling, even though it was dark. "Some of the girls at Remuda were talking about celebrities who had the perfect bodies. I told them that you have the perfect body, Cassandra. I told them that if I wanted to look like anyone, it was you."
Idina couldn't have known that my spirits soared five hundred miles that night. "I tried to look pretty when we went to Arizona so that you'd be proud of me."
"I'm always proud of you."
I went to sleep with a smile on my face that night.