I’m calling her “my girl”. But I’ve only met her once. That one time I made a fool out of myself. A bumbling crybaby, I walked to the microphone and said, “It’s not often people meet their heroes. But today, I’m meeting mine.”
I cried. She smiled. Nikki then proceeded to say some kind words that I can’t remember. All I know is it warmed my heart.
I love her.
Then, I wrote a few books and sent some to her office with a note. She wrote back. Twice.
I have those notes framed on the wall in my home office. Sometimes, I take them down and show them to my students so they will think I’m a famous writer.
We have the same hair, Nikki and I. We both have tattoos. We’re both Geminis. We both say what we think with little apology.
I hope to meet her again soon. When we meet, I’ll read this to her. She will smile and tell me it’s good. Even though it’s not.
I’ll probably cry and tell her how she influenced me as a pre-teen and on into adulthood. I’ll tell her how she is the one who made me want to be a writer. I’ll tell her I want to be her when I grow up. Even though I’m already a grown up.
Nikki. She’s my girl.