Hello August, Please Be Good To Me

Chapter 2: Pizza Pies and White Lies

Madison, Abby, and Lindsey are all sitting together at a table in the back when I get there, and I smile and wave in greeting. "This is our last time all together! Well, before Abby leaves in two weeks to go to New York." Abby smiles ruefully. "Where are the guys?" Abby asks looking around, and I know she is referring to Morgan, Thomas, and Luke. Luke especially, who she has liked since this year but has yet to say something. I give her a mischievous smile and she kicks my hard foot under the table. The guys arrive as soon as Lindsey brings back our pizzas to the table. "How fitting. You come for the food. Nice to know you care for our company too." I try to make it sound as sarcastic as possible, but unfortunately my tone can be too convincing at times. "Hi Lyric," Luke says to me and gives me a side hug before sitting down next to me, as if to prove me wrong. I ignore the flash of hurt in Abby's eyes and clear my throat before patting the boy on the head. "Good boy. Now let us get our pizza first since we ordered it and waited for it, and you guys next because they're won't be any left after that."

Everyone laughs, and we all dig in regardless of the order I suggested. They all talk excitedly and over one another, and I just sit back and listen, giving my opinion or wit every now and then, but mostly wishing to go back home and return to my sketchbook. Eventually I pull out my phone and check out Instagram, lost in my own world. "Well we know Lyric is just gonna stay holed up in her dorm room. Never call us or video chat or nothing. She'll basically just fall off the face of this earth!" Luke and Thomas snicker at this and Abby laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard. I feel my face burn at the truth in the statement, but that doesn't stop me from blurting out, "Wow, you know me so well don't y'all? I'll blow up y'all phones so much, you'll probably block my ass," I say as I reach for another slice of pizza. Another round of giggles from the girls ensues, and I think about the truth in what I just said. Or lack thereof. "I need a job!" Abby groans, and I shrug. "You should have gone to the job fair at the mall when I told you, then you wouldn't be sitting at home broke, wishing for better days," I laugh and Thomas high-fives me.

"Thomas don't start with me, you didn't even get a job," Abby retorts, and now it's only me laughing. The two of us applied to work at the Tallahassee Mall a while back, and while Thomas had surrendered a sorry portfolio, I had managed to scrape together a decent resume and get my teachers to write some recommendation letters. "Hey, at least I tried, you were too scared!" I half-listen as they go back and forth, and think about my job which starts a week from our graduation. I applied to work somewhere at the food court and landed a spot at Great American Cookie, which was fine by me. Maybe my sweet tooth would go away from being around various forms of sugar all day long. Plus discounts never hurt anybody, right? They had just opened around the time of the job fair, and the lady I talked to seemed pretty impressed with me. I guess I'm good for something.

Soon the talk at the table turns to college plans, and I search for an exit. I don't plan to deal with this conversation (again) until my family brings it up (again) at my graduation night dinner. "My dad just texted me," I lie, "and he needs the car. My brother isn't home yet." I wave goodbye to my friends and head out the door. The Florida heat has calmed down since the sun sank lower in the sky, and I climb in the car. Without a plan in mind, I drive until I reach the AMC movie theater. I find an old movie I'm sure everyone has seen by now and find a seat in the empty theater room. It's empty until I return to my seat with an order of curly fries from the concessions. It looks like a pair of middle school girls, and when I wave they wave back to me as if it's the most normal thing that's ever happened. And college was supposed to be better than this? I don't think I want to find out.

The day of the ceremony I fluff out my semi-straightened hair and adjust my cap over my head. Turning from side to side, I admire my reflection in the mirror before catching my makeup bag in the corner. It was gift from Lindsey for my birthday, but I haven't even opened it. What was I supposed to do with every shade of eyeshadow and eyeliner, multiple mascaras, and lip glosses? Yes I know how to put on makeup, but it hardly made a difference. I opened the bag and ripped the plastic off the black eyeliner. It was graduation, so why not? "Ready Lyric?" I heard my dad knock on my door and tentatively step in. "Aww, my college student! Look at 'cha! All dressed up and everything." I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I haven't even graduated high school yet. Heck, my diploma won't be in my hand till sometime in June when I go pick it up." My dad wraps his arm over my shoulder and guides me out the door. "You sound just like yo mama. It's like she never left, jeez."

We arrive at the school, and parting ways with my dad I look around to see if brother and his girlfriend have arrived yet, before finding my place in line with the other graduation seniors. All the girls seem to get wrapped up in the emotion of the event, but my tears spring up for an entirely different reason. At least I believe so.

We laugh as Rish Patel and Kevin Goya, our co-valedictorians, give their rather short speech addressing our years in high school and multiple inside jokes lost on the ears of the parents and other adults. "So our fellow Lighting Strikes! Set your mark on the world, and don't let anyone tell you that you can't. Only you, can limit you. Thank you." The sudden seriousness of Rish's tone makes us all somber, and I chew at my hangnail taking it all in. The procession of names begins, and I eagerly await my own, and secretly pray that I don't trip in my new pumps. Maybe I should have practiced walking in them.

"Lyric Ani Moore..." I shake hands with all the adults on stage, and smile at Principle James. All the students can agree that there is absolutely no one like that man. I smile for the pictures and search for my row of family members in the crowd. My dad and Danté appear to be the loudest, craziest supporters out of my grandma, aunts and uncles and cousin Meghan.  My descent down the stairs isn't without complications, and just as I reach the last step, my heel catches onto the back of my gown and I trip forward, narrowly missing the wall.