Hacking the Sun [Old Version]

Chapter 8.1 Blindsided

Blowing, blowing, Jessica blew on the tassel of her cap three times.

I wish it would rain. 

She noticed a crease on her red gown, so tended to it. The same velvety textures subsumed the landscaped lawn of the outdoor stadium. 

I wish I could crawl down a rabbit hole, where everything makes cents, make a bunch of illogical lessons with insanity as the cipher, then watch the sane people try to correct me.

On a bench full of senior students any and every which way, part of her envied how public schools killed Commencement ceremonies, overrated as they were. She daydreamed of a couch and twenty-first-century television on Retroflix, lamenting the lack of a skip option. Not only could she not fast-forward, but there was no popcorn.

Boredly gazing, she found the girl who made fun of her stockings freshman year. There was the guy who hit on her sophomore year. There was the guy she caught staring at her thirty-nine times in Calculus. There was the girl whose periodic table jokes almost got her expelled. Everywhere, teenagers ready for freedom.

Contrary to what the Valedictorian was belching over the podium, it seemed clear that the mentality behind most students'  excitement leaned toward 'I'm out of this prison' instead of 'Rejoice in academic achievements.' Although, sentiments could definitely vary.

"I thought Jessica would have been Valedictorian; not that Azarean blowhard."

Her ears latched on to the sound of her name a few rows back.

"She's not even Salutatorian."

"Yea. Remember that time she took the average test score and rigged the program to give everyone the same score. "

"You don't know that it was her."

"Well, only she could do that."

"Shh..."

Looking back, literally, she attached the voice to a face and recognized the student. A dark-haired boy who'd dropped a gallon of weight since their first meeting. He was a curiosity, too, because she remembered his kindness and casual preambles to a friendly conversation; the way he smiled, made fun and did favors. Come to think of it, their relationship was border-line romantic before they suddenly stopped talking. Strange, the way memory came and went. Many things were neglected after Freshman year. 

Neglect, purposeful neglect, also explained why she never stood a chance at valedictorian. Not only did attention make her squeamish, but peer pressure bombarded her grades into straight C's. It drew suspicion when she suddenly earned an S in every subject, so she eventually settled for A's and B's.   

Dusk had arrived. 

"Jessica Teresa Leibniz." 

Her name. Scotty! Beam me up! Do it, now! Without no way around it, she walked up to the podium, wary of all the eyeballs. She shook hands with the principal who had considered her a lost cause, took her piece of plastic, paused for a picture, forced her smile before the automated camera, and then passionately walked offstage.

"I would, hereby, like to congratulate the Graduating Class of 2127."

At last, Jessica moved her tassel to the left. A huge weight fell off her shoulders. She tossed the hat and tassel aside. If only she could navigate past the horde of family and friends now filtering into the oval field. A clashing of the hugs followed, of which she was an innocent bystander. Familiar faces, unrecognizably happy, jumped for joy at their parents. Groups of friends who had survived the past five years through mutual uptake found the glory of group photos. Smiles all around. In her mind, the end of Commencement entailed little more and nothing less than a break.