The thing about Luanne was she knew her name was Luanne.
The rest of your friends had names like Chelsea and Olivia and Amanda (never Mandy). There was even Birdie, whose real name was Margot, and you weren’t sure how she got the nickname Birdie, but it fit.
Then there was Luanne.
Her siblings had trendy names. Taryn and Caleb. Her parents were John and Laurie, but that didn’t mean anything because they were from an older generation.
So why Luanne?
She said she didn’t mind her name, and you could tell she meant it. She said it sounded kind and that it made her want to be kind.
And she was kind. It was more than just her monthly shifts at the soup kitchen or her role in starting the school’s Habitat for Humanity club. You all participated in activities like that. You knew it was a good thing to do, and since you did it together, you could even make it fun.
But there was something about her eyes, or maybe her smile, or maybe you’re being too literal, and it was really her ears, the fact that she was such a good listener. To everyone, too, not just her usual group of friends.
She was just a nice person.
Which is why it made no sense at all for her to be the one to die when it was the entire soccer team who was on the same bus that flipped over the same guardrail and rolled down the same hill. Not that you wanted anyone else to die, of course. You just didn’t want Luanne to die.
And you almost lost it at the funeral, when Luanne’s mom walked up there, and you considered walking out of the church before you broke down, but you managed to hold on and stay seated, and you are so glad you did.
Because she finally told the story of how Luanne because Luanne.
