We Don't Know About Us (Could It Work?")

If I had the chance to travel back in time and change the day of my high school graduation, I'm not entirely sure I would. No matter how many regrets I have.

The day I'll never forget.

May 28th, 2013.

That was the day for the first time in my life, my future looked hazy in my sight.

Ever since I began middle school, my parents reminded me that this will all count to when I go out in the real world and make something of myself.

Since before I got to middle school, I've had my heart set on being a professional hair and make up artist, for celebrities. Now, I know what you think. Most beauticians are notorious for dropping out of high school and never making it to the big leagues.

Well let me tell you, convincing my parents to let me take separate classes at the beauty institute if I maintain a 95 average is no easy matter.

They've told me that if I worked hard, I would deserve every bit of what I reap, and the hell if I didn't. Besides, if I didn't take those classes, I would have never met the people I look up to now. The women I've met there have hopes and dreams more extravagant you couldn't possibly imagine, working twice as hard as I did to get where they are now. I've also had heartbreaking conversations with guys who are misunderstood or shamed for doing what they love.

So don't try to tell me or anyone else that the people who fix your hair, or make your face look 10x more radiant than you ever thought it could be, are any less of a person than you. And may I remind you that you are the one giving them money to do what they love.

ok, rant over. Back to the topic at hand...Oh right!

*Flashback*

May 28, here I stand 8th in my class of 300. (Not perfect but pretty damn awesome)

The nerves are practically radiating off my body, floating around my head, which is probably why I couldn't keep my hands away from my cap.

I kept fidgeting with my gown, shifting my weight from one unbearable heel to the other, picking at my freshly manicured nails. When I realized what I was doing, I silently cursed at myself and let my hands full to my sides.

Everyone was waiting in the gym for the ceremony to start. A low roar settled in the air. It was a mixture of, friendly chit-chat, laughing,

and crying.

I stood independently by the bleachers fighting my anxiety. That's when I heard someone call my name.

"Isabel!" Someone called behind me.

I turned to see who the voice belonged to and I saw my best friend coming towards me, Harry.

"Hey Harry," I trailed off giving him a hug.

"Nerves?" He said with an all-knowing grin.

I gave a halfhearted chuckle and a nod, my face directed towards the floor. He saw the expression on my face and decided to investigate further.

"What's really wrong Izzy?" He said with concern in his voice while lifting up my chin.

I felt more comfortable when he called me by my nickname. It made me feel more at ease and I gave in to him.

I let out a long sigh and shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know Harry, I guess I'm just a little scared to know what'll happen after graduation. I was excepted into the college of my dreams and I couldn't be happier about that, but what if I'm not good enough, what if I can't even take care of myself like I should, what if I never see you again what if,"