Look How Far We've Come

People Watching

Within the next few days, C and I are in and out of the apartment. Between checking up on Bake, exams, and just everyday craziness, we barely see each other. It's fine though because it happens around this time of year each year since we have been living together.

Bake was sent back to his hotel with a bottle of painkillers and a big, shiny, green balloon that read "Get Well Soon." C had been spending the time between exams with him. I'm glad that they have a chance to catch up on what they missed. Goals.

For me, however, I had spent between exams studying more. With Em, Bake, and Umar being more of a presence in life now, my mind often strays from the notes and laptop in front of me. Just like high school. We called ourselves "Cuz We're Happenin'", well, at least I did. Bake was talking about our Christmas party in 2015 and he said that we were "happenin'" and thus, the group name was born.

Sophomore year was wonderful. I felt like I had found my best friends. And I love them all. All the little quirks and nit-picky things, they're my nerds. And I want to tell them to never change. But I'm not going to get all sappy and touchy-feely. I need to focus on my final sketches for my exam. Fun fun. The Wormhole was busy around this time. Lunch breaks. The coffee shop is filled with the warm sizzling of grilled sandwiches, the whish sounds from the machines behind the bar, and the incomprehensible syllables of conversations a table over.

As the tablet pen slides over the screen soundlessly, my mind slides into thoughts from high school. The Christmas party of 2015, the lunches of sophomore, junior, and senior years, the concerts, the fireworks of the Fourth of July, and all the little moments in between. Quotes such as: "Ceci, what are you doing?!" and "Am Proud." And those are just two out of a whole, purple notebook full.

I look around The Wormhole and see a lot of people eating or waiting in line. A shorter guy with short, dark, dark, brown hair sits looking at his phone in his hands and his worn, faded, red vans are noticeable to me. Just walking in is a woman with a black sports jacket and matching pencil skirt. For a moment, I think that he looks her over. Probably nothing. Sitting two tables away from me is a mom with her son.

I shake my head and go back to drawing on my laptop. Soon enough, the only thing left to do is touch up the shading. Great. I look up and see the mom and son have left and the boy about my age with faded Vans briefly looks at me before walking out of the shop. Probably the last time I'll ever see him so I don't mind the familiarly odd look much.

1:37. After I gather my things, I'm out the door. So many people walk the streets in sync. A man stands taking pictures of the city life and the skyscrapers. It is reassuring to see someone taking the time to appreciate what's around them. I always tried, but school. I watch as he kneels down and angles his camera slightly upwards toward a couple walking. The tall guy with beach blond hair holds his boyfriend's hand as they walk down Milwaukee Avenue. It just reminds me of how I'm a fade to the background person. I like taking the pictures not starring in them. In high school, I always would take pictures of Bake-C and Emily and Catherine and all my other friends when I could. #ModelStatus. Sometimes I was stealthy about it, but when I was caught, we would all laugh, which just made for better pictures.

I try to wave down a cab to no success. That just comes with living in a big city. One finally pulls over for me and I tell the driver the building. The backseat has that cab smell. Smoke, alcohol, perfume, cologne, leather that had attempted to be cleaned. I look out the window as the taxi driver says nothing. The radio isn't even on. The colors of the city go by the window soundlessly. But it feels nothing like the movies, but I like it. It's as if I'm writing my own story, making my own film with my best friends as the cast and myself as the narrator.

I can't put into words how amazing it feels to make something of a group of small town kids. We all made it this far. And to look back on every petty fight, every joke taken wrong, and all the laughs that were too loud and see that it all leads here is so reassuring. Hah, look what I've done. I made it all sappy and touchy-feely.