My First Adult Summer

“Congratulations, Class of 2017!”

We toss our green caps into the air, mine landing back in my hand.

What an eventful day. It had started with a rehearsal of the ceremony, followed by lunch with the other students, before relaxing at home for a few hours until the actual ceremony.

Now we stood in front of our cheering family members.

I was relieved that this part of my life was over. High school. While it hadn’t been the hell middle school was, it hadn’t been a walk in the park either.

Always there, but never fitting in anywhere.

As I walk off the stage, I notice how the other students have whole mini-communities congratulating and embracing them.

I move toward my parents, the only people from my community who showed up. And while I am grateful for them being there, I can’t ignore the pang in my chest and the lump in my throat.

They congratulate me and we quickly go home.

***

Standing behind the stage, I feel the music through my bones as my group and I wait our turn to perform.

This was my last dance performance. I would miss it immensely. The people I considered friends, the quietness it brought my mind, the way it pushed me to be better.

I shift my body weight around, feeling the fabric of my costume rub against my skin. Ours is coming up, the butterflies tickling my stomach.

As soon as the stage lights dim and the other dance group leaves, we move into position and wait for the music to start.

One eight count, two eight counts.

The music starts.

We begin.

Our dance routine goes smoothly, and before I know it, it’s over, and we move off stage for the next class.

I don’t know how to feel as I head back to the back room, the shrieking of young children jarring me.

About two hours had passed by the time the whole show was finished. We all move to the stage, holding hands, to bow to the audience.

***

Sitting by the campfire with my troop and the guides while eating a hearty dinner, I watch the river rush past us. What an eventful day.

It was our first official day of whitewater rafting. It was fun, although exhausting.

As I sit next to my best friend, I can’t help but feel a pang in my chest. Things with us had been tense over the last few months, her family and boyfriend getting in between us.

I watch as the sun dips below the hills and the horizon, the temperature becoming more comfortable, although I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep in the heat.

Eventually, we settle in our tents, and I lie on top of my sleeping bag, listening to everyone else sleep. It is the norm.

But suddenly, something hits me deep inside, and I can’t stop the water from leaking out of my eyes. Why now? Why here?

***

Sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car, I look out into the nightlife of the highway, watching as a few accompanying cars pass us by.

Driving at night always brought me a sense of peace and calm that I rarely feel any other time.

We were going to Oregon to watch the total eclipse and then spend a few days in the area.

We eventually make it to Portland at around 2 am and decide to check out this crazy donut shop before going the final stretch to our destination.

The shop is packed with people when we step inside, most of whom are fellow eclipse viewers like us, getting coffees and a dozen donuts.

As we do the final stretch, I glance at the seat next to me, which, instead of my best friend sitting there, the blue cooler is strapped down in it. I frown, ignoring how it makes me feel.

When we arrive at the site, we are met by other onlookers. Are they as tired as we are? Are they visitors like us?

Soon enough, the eclipse begins, and we put on our protective glasses so we don’t suffer from eye damage. It is gorgeous. I’m glad I got to see something this cool.

Finally, we make it to our cozy inn, where we collapse on our beds. But despite my exhaustion, my mind won’t let me sleep.

Oh, how I wish my best friend were here to share in this.

***

Sitting outside the gym of my college in the late summer warmth, I wait for my bus to take me home. The workout was good, but it couldn’t take my mind off the feelings inside my chest and throat.

I don’t know what to do with the emptiness, or how to share it with someone else.

I just hope the emptiness will dissipate once college classes start in the fall.