The Cow Ate My Homework

17. Party Like I'm (Not) Graduating High School

Wouldn't it be ironic, I think to myself, if everything just magically fell into place from here? Right now, with my best friend completely pissed off at me, my graduation no longer a thing, my parents' feelings hurt... and riding on an ass into the school parking lot. Why shouldn't things go up from here, if they can't go any further down? That encouraging cartoon guy that was trying to pep talk my brain the other day might be fighting to make an appearance about now...

But I stop this train of thought, because there is one thing that could make this worse: if Rodney were waiting to finally end me as I enter school grounds. I crane to look for him in every direction as I near the school. But amazingly, he is nowhere in sight.

However, the closer to the school and my FFA barn destination I get, I realize that the gaggle of girls sitting on the grass out front for the earliest lunch period is none other than Missy and her friends. Cool. My dream come true, for her to see me looking more ridiculous than I must have ever looked before.

My hopes that she might not see me are shattered when I hear her say, "Hey check it out, it's Meth Breath on a donkey." Giggling, she snaps a pic of me and my ride.

I'm not that close to her, so I don't know if she'll actually hear me or not. But I feel like I have nothing to lose right now, so I say, "I'm not graduating, so live it up now with the jokes about my white trash childhood before it's too late."

I don't look back, just slump in defeat as I ride the donkey the rest of the way over to the FFA barn.

But moments later as I lead the donkey to its stall, I hear behind me, "You're really not graduating?"

I stop in my tracks, look over my shoulder in disbelief. Missy is actually standing in the doorway to the FFA barn. She looks slightly out of place in the crusty barn setting, but with just enough hint of country to her carefully styled hot-girl look to make me think of all those country song references to long tan legs and blond hair. So many Luke Bryan songs zip through my head once again.

I shake them off and answer, "Nope."

"Weird. I didn't know you could like do that." She thinks about this for a sec, then, "It's so, like, stick-it-to-the-man."

My brain works rapidly to think of a good response. Something appropriate, that makes sense, that maybe is funny, or clever, or engaging for further conversation. Something about how I didn't mean to be not graduating? No, that makes me sound very dumb. Some lie about how I always meant to make it to the final week of high school and then blow it all just to prove a point? No that sounds even dumber. A total subject change? A compliment? The seconds are ticking by, and now it suddenly feels that to say anything will be extra dumb and awkward.

So I settle on nothing, no response to her at all.

And I lead the donkey the rest of the way to its stall, kicking myself for wasting this opportunity. But she goes on, "It's almost like surprisingly cool for... you know, you."

Cool for... me. I'm thankful that my back is to her so she doesn't see my facial expression.

"I heard a rumor that you and Sarah are on the outs."

Oh shit. Please don't bring up Sarah. This is just too much awkwardness for me to handle.

Completely unsure how to respond to this, I shrug, try to play it cool. And shut the donkey gate.

"'Kay I'll be honest," she says, leaning against a wall, until she realizes it's scuzzy. She grimaces and wipes the scuzz on a nearby hay bale before going on, "I usually totally write off anyone associated with Sarah as like a total loser, but maybe I was wrong."