It was at a sleep-away camp in western Colorado, a place of log cabins and nightly campfires where rich campers complained about their lives back in Boston or New York. Plus, my best guy friend Bill was also going, and I nursed hopeful fantasies that some time in the wilderness might elevate us to more than friends. What I remember most about that time was the aura of cattiness that hung about the cabin, a hostile air teenage girls seem to seep from their pores. So often, it is romance that is fleeting in our lives — in the form of boyfriends and girlfriends and even marriage — and in the end it is our friends who offer the safest haven in this turbulent world. read more
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