If You See PerryAnn: Parking Lots and Playlists

Something Corporate: If You C Jordan

Track One: New Player Joined

Game Mode: First Day of 7th Grade

Soundtrack: Nervous laughter and new beginnings

Setting: One hello away from changing everything

I spotted her sitting alone,

hair like wildfire,

eyes like the sky before a storm — quiet but aware.

She looked new.

I knew that look.

My mom always told me:

“When there’s a new kid, be the kid who says hi.

You don’t have to be best friends. But you can be kind.”

So I sat next to her and said hi.

I don’t remember exactly what I said.

Probably something awkward. Probably something real.

Her name was PerryAnn.

I remember thinking:

That name belongs in a comic book. Or a band. Or maybe a band in a comic book.

We laughed within minutes.

She had this huge, infectious laugh —

the kind that crashes through silence like a well-landed combo.

I didn’t know it yet, but I’d just unlocked something rare:

New best friend: unlocked.

Achievement: lifelong friendship.

⸻

Track Two: If You C Jordan (Play It Loud)

Game Mode: Two-Player Mute with a Stereo on Blast

Soundtrack: Something Corporate on repeat, CD skips and all

Setting: My bedroom, controllers tangled in a pile

We’d mute the game. Every time.

Tony Hawk was on the screen — skating his pixelated heart out —

but the real soundtrack was a scratched-up copy of Something Corporate,

spinning like it was doing something sacred.

“If You See Jordan” was our song.

We didn’t just play it —

we performed it.

Over and over.

Singing like nobody else existed.

“I don’t care if you dye your hair—

you’ll always be a little redhead bitch.”

We’d lose it.

Completely lose it.

Rolling, laughing, half-hollering at the absurdity of it.

Perry was a redhead, obviously.

But she wasn’t a bitch. Not even a little.

She was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.

That’s what made the line so funny. So perfect.

It became a summer anthem —

part roast, part badge of honor,

part joke we couldn’t stop telling.

We didn’t care that the game was silent.

We were too loud anyway.

That summer, everything felt that way —

loud, bright, stupid in the best way.

Our voices, that song, her laugh —

they echoed off the walls louder than any soundtrack ever could.

⸻

Track Three: The Window Unit Summer

Game Mode: Sleepover Survival

Soundtrack: Late-night movies, skipped CDs, and Perry’s laugh cutting through the heat

Setting: One tiny bedroom, one barely-breathing AC unit, unlimited nights together

It was one of those summers where the heat felt personal.

Sticky, heavy, like it was trying to press you into the carpet.

But we had my bedroom.

And we had the little window unit.

And that was enough.

Barely enough, honestly —

it wheezed and clunked and barely reached the far wall —

but we’d cram ourselves into the cool corner anyway.

Blankets in the summer, because we were stubborn like that.

We watched movies until our eyes hurt.

Played Tony Hawk until the controller cords tangled like spaghetti.

Sometimes we paused it all and just talked —

about boys, about bands, about nothing.

Perry stayed over a lot that summer.

More nights than not, I think.

We shared that tiny space like it was a sleepover castle.

Two girls, a stack of CDs, a humming AC unit,

and the kind of laughter that makes you forget how small a room really is.

You don’t realize when it’s happening —

but sometimes you’re living through something you’ll never forget.

⸻

Track Four: Back to the Future, Back to Her House

Game Mode: Sleepover Magic (No Controller Required)

Soundtrack: Faint movie fuzz and time travel unfolding in real-time

Setting: Perry’s bed, summer haze, a new favorite trilogy in the making

We were just hanging out —

her room, her bed, maybe a bowl of snacks between us,

the TV humming with something in the background.

I don’t know if she planned it or if it just came on,

but at some point, Perry looked at me and said:

“Wait… you’ve never seen Back to the Future?”

It wasn’t judgment.

It was excitement.

Like she’d just realized she got to be the one to show it to me.

So we watched.

And I fell.

Hard. Fast. All the way in.

The colors, the music, the time travel, the skateboarding, the clock tower —it felt like discovering a door that had always been there

but finally opened just for me.

Perry didn’t talk through it.

She just let it happen,

smiling when she knew a good part was coming.

From that night on, it was my favorite trilogy.

All three.

She handed it to me like it was no big deal.

Like she didn’t know she was handing me something I’d keep forever.

⸻

Track Five: Game Paused for Strawberries

Game Mode: Unexpected Upgrade

Soundtrack: Perry’s voice — “Just try it.”

Setting: Somewhere between a dare and a snack

I didn’t really like strawberries as a kid.

Too mushy, too weird, maybe too sweet in a way I didn’t trust.

My mom used to sprinkle sugar on them,

but they never landed right.

Perry thought it was wild that I didn’t love them.

She didn’t tease — she just offered.

Held one out like a little dare and said:

“Try it like this. Just plain.”

So I did.

And just like that —

I liked strawberries.

No sugar. No fuss.

Just the fruit. Just real.

I think about that sometimes —

how something so small can stick.

Strawberries have been my favorite fruit ever since.

Thanks to Perry.

Just one of those Perry things.

⸻

Track Six: Black Tees, Blue Jeans, Checkered Vans

Game Mode: Full Character Customization

Soundtrack: Band tees, broken laces, and the bassline of becoming yourself

Setting: One summer, one style, one step closer to the real you

That summer, I lived in a rotation of Levi’s, band shirts, and sneakers that had seen better days.

Usually a black tee —

Get Up Kids, maybe my Universal Warning Records shirt if it was actually clean — worn-in and faded from the wash.

Fraying jean hems.

Shoelaces pulling loose from black-and-white Converse or my checkered Vans.

I didn’t call it a style.

It just was.

There wasn’t anything curated about it.

No Pinterest boards. No hashtags.

Just me —

figuring out who I was without even knowing that’s what I was doing.

Perry fit into it perfectly.

She had her own flavor —

that easygoing, bright-hearted energy that made everything feel a little more possible.

We didn’t talk about identity.

We didn’t have to.

It was stitched into the sleeves of our shirts,

woven into the way we filled the long, slow days.

Looking back, I think that summer was the first time

I started to recognize myself.

Not who I thought I was supposed to be —

but who I already was.

⸻

Track Seven: Halfpipe Summer

Game Mode: Post Office Parking Lot Adventures

Soundtrack: Wheels on asphalt, sneakers dragging for balance, the low hum of freedom

Setting: Normangee, Texas — cracked lots and endless afternoons

By fifteen, the rollerblades were still in heavy rotation —

but the skateboard had officially entered the picture.

Most of my skating didn’t happen on a halfpipe.

It happened in parking lots, back streets, sidewalks —

anywhere the concrete stretched long enough to pick up speed.

The post office parking lot in Normangee was home base.

Rough pavement.

Hot Texas air rising in waves.

Plenty of room to push off, coast, and carve lazy arcs across the empty space.

It wasn’t about tricks.

It was about movement.

About balance clicking into place just long enough to believe you could fly.

We played Tony Hawk on the screen —

but out there, under the real sky,

we were making our own runs.

Our own mixtape memories.

Our own game.

No pause button.

No restart.

Just pavement, bruises, and something that felt like freedom.

⸻

Track Eight: PerryAnn, Skater Girl Sidekick (Player 2)

Game Mode: No Maps, No Missions, Just Summer

Soundtrack: Something Corporate spinning and a whole lot of laughing

Setting: Wherever the day took us

Perry wasn’t a skater.

But she didn’t have to be.

She was just there — always —

laughing, hanging out, singing along to whatever was playing,

making every parking lot, every late-night drive, every game session better just by being in it.

She didn’t need a board under her feet to be part of it.

She was part of it because she was Perry.

Because she showed up.

Because she made everything feel bigger, brighter, better — without even trying.

There was no plan.

No destination.

Just the easy way we filled the time.

Music. Games. Skating. Talking about nothing and everything.

And somehow, when she was there, it all just mattered more.

⸻

Bonus Track: Some Friendships Are Just Light

Game Mode: Final Save Point

Soundtrack: The echo of a summer you can still hear if you listen close

Setting: Somewhere between then and forever

Some friendships are loud.

Some are complicated.

Some burn out before you even realize what they were.

But some —

the best kind —

are just light.

Easy.

Solid.

Real.

The kind you don’t have to question.

The kind that shows up,

grabs a second controller,

sings the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs,

and laughs with you until the summer slips away.



That was PerryAnn.

That still is PerryAnn.

Beauty and light.