Ch 100: THE END

13 1 0
                                    

See You Again~ Wiz Khalifa, Charlie Puth

PAULINAS POV// June 5, 2015 7:03pm

My knees shake as I walk into the gates of Millikan Middle School. The last time walking in. I pat down the sides of my simple blue summer dress and line it up with my dark blue cardigan. Today is the day. The end of it all. The start of it all. Graduation. I did it. I made it. We made it. I walk into Burrell Hall and search around for Angie. She never told me what she was wearing so it's hard to spot her. I finally spot her standing in a corner with Daniel. She looks amazing. She's wearing a black baby doll dress that has a curly design at the bottom. Daniel who is next to her is wearing a blue button up with a long black tie. He looks neat. Still crazy, but neat. She sees me. Her eyes go wide and she runs through the massive crowd of excited 8th graders to get to me.
"Oh my god. Oh my god. We did it," She shrieks. I expected her to be in tears crying over this kinda crap but she seems well out together.

"You look gorgeous," She says to me and stares at my graduation outfit.

"You look better," I tell over the loud crowd of noise.

"Are you ready?" She asks me.

"Fuck no. Are you?" I ask

"Not even close," She says and giggles.

"Lets take selfies," Daniel says and holds up his phone and starts taking pictures.

I still don't know how to feel. I feel sad. I feel angry. I wanna punch someone but I also want to jump into Angie's arms and cry until I fall asleep. I hate this. I'm not ready to leave yet. I didn't realize how much this would hurt until now. Graduating feels like preparing to meet the grim reaper. This isn't fun, this isn't exciting, this isn't anything nice. This is sad and today should be used to mourn. Maybe that's why Angie's wearing black.

"Are your parents here?" I ask trying to make conversation with Angie for the last time because I probably won't see her this summer.

"Yeah My dad came with my mom," she says without looking at me.

"Ok guys line up. It's time to get seated," Our counselor says through a portable microphone.
I see Angie take a deep breath and stand in her place in line. I try and breathe deeply but I just can't. i stand in place and watch Angie and Daniel fidget next to each other while walking out of the hall.
Our line is lead out of Burrell Hall and toward the 8th grade Lawn. I hear the graduation song play as we walk down the aisles. We're summoned one by one to walk down the aisle to get to or seat. Parents and family members are cheering in their graduates as they strut down the paved cement. This really is no big deal. I feel a sense of relief once I get to my seat so I can nurse my shaky limbs. From my seat I see Crystal dancing down the aisle and chanting while she makes her way to her seat. From six inches above the ground in sparkly stilettos, Kassidy waves at her friends and family as she proudly walks down the aisle. Isaac, who keeps his hands in his pockets, forces a smile as he walks with a stiff posture to his seat. They're ready. They're ready to let go. But am I? No one really is. We just want you to think we are so you don't show us pity. We aren't the pitying type of people. It's kill or be killed and we will not be killed.

The music stops once every 8th grader is seated. We go through the whole ceremony of standing for the pledge, listening to the speakers which include class president, our counselor and our principle. Boring but saddening at the same time. I slip my feet out of my flats and massage them into the grass of the lawn for the last time. It's cold and neatly trimmed to suit the shape of the chairs. The feel of Millikan grass on my toes is comforting. I won't feel this anymore. I'll feel mature grass that speaks the words of age to me. High school. In front of me, I see Angie wiping away fallen tears with a wadded up tissue and soon, Daniels arm finds its way around her shoulders. He shouldn't be comforting her. I should be. We should both be wallowing in pain because we won't be going to school together anymore. Not him. He gets her. I don't.

The choir sings that overplayed song by Charlie Puth and puts half of the crowd in a state of sadness and emotion but soon lifts spirits with a more upbeat song that lets us know we are all still family.
When it's time for diplomas, we're called up row by row. Angie's row is first. Friends and family members of the graduates scream and blow horns when the names of their kids are called.
"Daniel Edwards," The counselor calls up Daniel and the crowd screams. However, our group is silent. Not a peep. You can hear his very very Armenian family scream for him. It's sweet.

"Angelina Van Howllen," The counselor calls up Angie. The crowd roars when her name is called. I look into the crowd and she her dad blowing air horns in both hands. I decided not to say anything. Silence is powerful. Angie does a little dance after she hugs our counselor and makes her way off the stage.

Name after name, students go up on stage, either whip or do some other stupid shit and go back to their seats.

"Paulina Casburn," The counselor says and to my surprise, I hear screams. The loudest one of all is Angie. From the stage I see her screaming and going wild in her seat. My cheeks flush with heat when I see how genuinely proud of me she is. I'm taken by her affection and pride.

8:21pm//
For the last half hour, I tried not crying. I feel like I'm about to burst into flames. This is the worst day of my life. I'm so angry and seeing Angie makes me angrier. I don't bother waiting for my family after the ceremony. I try walking as fast as possible to get out of the school so I can find someplace secluded so I can cry. From behind me, I hear Angie.

"Paulina. Paulina wait. Let me give you a hug," she says.

ANGIES POV//

I call Paulina's name several times but I get no acknowledgment. She's in a hurry to get out of the school gates I have no idea why.

"Paulina wait," I call to her. She turns around to look at me. For a few seconds, we stand in place looking at each other. Paulina gives me one last look before turning around and walking away.

JonesDär berättelser lever. Upptäck nu