Destined for Destruction

chapter eight - delilah

Today was the day. The last day of EMT school. To think, I was so scared and yet so excited. One might even say I was scarcited.

My phone buzzed with a text from James, telling me he was here. He only lived five minutes away, which was really convenient. He said he lived near the Harleysville Fire Department, which he had been running with since he was fourteen or fifteen. He told me how much he loved being able to do more, like actually go inside since he turned eighteen in January and finished fire school in May. He got me thinking about firefighting. I had never wanted to be one — not like my dream to be an EMT/paramedic since I was a younger teenager. It seemed like a fun job. Maybe something I could get paid for, especially since I would be becoming a paramedic soon enough.

I pulled myself out of my firefighting thoughts and finished getting ready for the day. I was wearing our required uniform for the last time — or at least, I hoped. The navy blue student polo shirt was so uncomfortable and I always felt weird wearing shirts like that without an undershirt. Which would be fine in the dead of winter; it would keep me warm. But in the 95° heat of August, it was killer. Despite being floor length, I liked my cargo pants. They were also hot, but I enjoyed having so many pockets! I kept my phone in one cargo pocket, my wallet in the other, and my keys and hair ties in the front/top pockets.

I did a quick pat down to make sure I had everything that I needed. Phone, wallet, keys. Yep. Everything. I walked down the steps of my house quietly because my mom — who ran her own business from inside the house — and my sister — who was on summer break — were still asleep. My dad, however, was already at work.

"Hey you," I smiled as I slide into the passenger seat of James' truck. It reminded me of Bella Swan's truck; I liked the nostalgic vibes. And that's saying something, coming from me. I normally hate trucks. They're too loud and normally driven by over-compensating assholes.

"Hey," he greeted me with an easy smile. "How are you?"

"Scarcited," I said quickly without realizing what came out of my mouth.

"Scared and excited?"

"You get me," I smiled. "You understand Delilah-ish. It's a complicated language but I've see you've picked up on it."

"It's my favorite language to speak." He laughed. My heart swelled. "Do you want coffee?"

"Do we have time?" I asked redundantly. Since driving together, we always got coffee and we always had time. Unlike most of my classmates, I didn't want to be late and miss a thing.

"Wanna get something for Buck? As a thank you?"

"No way!" I exclaimed. "Remember what happened when I made him cookies? Never again!" James laughed as he made his way to Wawa and we ordered our handcrafted coffees. Well, he made his. I enjoyed my coffee iced.

We paid for our coffees and said hello to our usual cashier. We were regulars at the new Wawa and practically knew all the workers. Afterwards, we got in the car and braved the commute go school. It wasn't bad; only eighteen minutes down the turnpike. But with the morning traffic, it was bad. I was thankful for it, though. It meant I got more one-on-one time with my favorite guy. If only there was a way to tell him how I feel...

For our last day, it was divided into three parts. First, we took our final exam. Thankfully, it was just the final unit exam and not cumulative. The second part of the day was practice for our psychomotor skills. After our late lunch, we would practice for graduation as the third and final part of the day. I don't know what there is to practice for an EMT graduation. It's not like we were walking across the stage, were we?

We were. We would walk across the stage and receive our diploma. Having an EMT class diploma did not equal an EMT certification. That's what the skills test day and the written test were for. I wish it was as easy as graduating the class to get your license, but I guess they want competent individuals as EMTs. Go figure.