The End Of It All

Sophomore Year

     I remember sophomore year clearly. It was the year my dad replaced Professor Svedvick as our English Literature teacher after he had a stroke over the summer and passed away. Dad told me when it happened and told me that he would be taking the job. I was sad for Professor Svedvick, but excited because that meant I could spend more time with my dad.

     My dad, my favorite person in the world. He wasn't around in the beginning. My mom had gotten pregnant with me her senior year of high school and soon after I was born, I was told my dad split. I grew up hating him for leaving me and my mom before learning the truth: my mom had kicked him to the curb when she discovered that she didn't love him anymore.

     When I learned of this, I tried my best to reconnect with him. Especially since my step-dad, Steve, absolutely hated me and never wanted to be a proper father figure. Throughout my teens, while I struggled with my depression, my dad served as a better therapist than mine did, even though he was thousands of miles away. He was there for me when I felt that no one was. He reassured me that I would find someone when I hadn't even gotten asked to prom. He made me feel like there was hope again.

     Still, when visits with him were over, I went right back to my mom and step-dad, because that was my home. Dad wasn't even legally my dad. My grandmother hated him, too, so she signed my birth certificate before he could even see it. Senior year of high school, when he moved from Indiana down to where I lived, he tried to get custody of me. But what was the point? I was already 17, and within a year I would be out on my own. Sometimes, I feel like if my dad was put on my birth certificate all those years ago, I would've been a happier person growing up. Maybe I would've had friends. But none of that mattered. What mattered now was that he was here.

     The summer of sophomore year was a time of self-discovery for me. I discovered punk music and developed a whole new style and personality. No longer was I shy and a know-it-all. I started to let my true colors show. I took up a fascination in the 90s grunge fashion and threw out all my Forever 21 clothes and replace them with jean jackets and black combat boots. My makeup went from a nicely done Kylie Jenner style to a dark Taylor Momsen-esque look. When everything changed for me, so did my self-doubt.

     I also got to know my roommate, who I found out was named Gabrielle (Brie for short). It turned out Brie was also into punk and classic rock music. Her and her boyfriend, Ryan, snuck into bars on the weekend to listen to live music from local bands. After a while, I started to tag along with them, which really helped out in what I had decided to major in: Music Theory.

     When the summer started to end, I suddenly thought of the person I had completely forgotten about: Tyler. Ryan had said something about how he and Tyler used to be in a band together until Tyler started to become "a major douche-canoe" and they went their separate ways. I wasn't ready to face him again. I was right that my crush was just a phase because I didn't think about him all summer. Why was I so afraid of seeing him? He's just some asshole like Ryan said. A background character in my life. He wasn't important to me.

But I was wrong.

     I walked into class early the very first day and was greeted by the morning news on the radio by my dad's desk. "Late last night, scientists discovered a new comet that has entered the solar system calculated to be roughly five kilometers across. This is slightly smaller than the meteorite that collided with our earth 65 million years ago and believably caused the mass extinction of dinosaurs. Scientists at NASA Space Center discovered this comet just outside the Kuiper Belt. More research is being conducted on the comet, which has been named Exo-2."

     My father had his back to me, writing what I supposed was the lesson plan for today on the over-sized whiteboard. I greeted him happily, making him turn around and smile widely, the very same smile I was told I inherited. I also inherited my dad's small nose and his round, hazel eyes.