The Gift Of Forgiveness

The car accident marred one teenager’s face,but it left no scratch on a friendship

- Jamie Quatro

 

THE SUMMER I TURNED 16, my father gave me his refurbished ’69 Chevy Malibu convertible. Cherry red, chrome accents, V-8 engine—a gift wasted on me at that age. What did I know about classic cars? The important thing was that Hannah and I could drive around Tucson with the top down.

Hannah was my best friend, a year younger but much taller, almost five foot ten. “Hannah’s a knockout,” my mother always said. And sure enough, that summer she signed with a modeling agency. She was already doing catalog and runway work.