Losing Grip

Epilogue➷ No Jackets

A month and a half later...

Apparently, a set way to approach my conflicted feelings about graduating did not exist. I knew that because I had spent long hours after my high-school graduation searching all over the Internet for a walk-through.

My search history was now flooded with questions Google refused to answer in any satisfying way, such as "Graduated high school, now what?", "What on earth do you even do after graduating?", "Is it normal that my body still wakes up at 6 a.m. even without my alarm?", "What am I doing with my life?", "What's the meaning of life?"

And while it was always fun to have an emotional crisis right after graduation, Google proved to be an ineffective source for all my venting. Perhaps I should have known better by now. There were no walk-throughs when I needed them. No shortcuts. And maybe it was better that way; I had to grow up all by myself.

"Thanks for breakfast," Dad said, popping his head through the door of the living room. "I'm leaving now. See you later. Oh, and don't forget we're meeting your mom and Roy tomorrow evening."

I gave him a thumbs-up without moving. With my eyes closed and my arms open, I lay on the couch as comfortably as it would allow me to and compelled my mind to focus on the implications of graduation. Only one thing came to mind: I had no idea what I was doing.

Some had tried to prevent the storm before it had started. Henry and Jayce—who spent most of our conversations arguing that they weren't a couple—had offered to help me with college applications since they had both been admitted to Duke. Bradley suggested that I join the military with him. Jacob invited me to sign up with him for a clothing design internship at a company where he hoped to introduce his cultural designs.

Mr. Andrews's advice was, however, what kept me sane as I stressed about the future. I had told him about my growing interest in studying psychology, and though he looked pleased with the news, he had said, "That's great. Don't feel pressured, though, to have it all figured out today... or even this year. Take your time."

He had given me the email of the admission office of a university he recommended. I had applied without thinking they would even consider me but a representative had emailed me back and scheduled an interview for next week.

I was stressing about the interview when the sound of footsteps startled me.

Sitting up, I saw Arson's form walk into the living room. I blinked to adjust my vision to the lights in the room.

"You're going to have to stop popping in unannounced," I told him.

He shrugged. "It's not my fault your dad keeps letting me in."

"What are you doing here?" I rubbed my fingers over my eyes, trying to scare the sleepiness away.

"Well, you know, the usual. It's not like this is our last day together and I'm moving away tomorrow or anything... oh, wait! Yeah, that's exactly what's happening today."

What sucked about Ohio State was that it cared way too much about sports. The newly-recruited players were required to move in early for extra practice and to start getting to know the rest of the team or whatever.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with me?" I stood up and stretched my arms.

"So, you don't want to do anything before I leave? I thought..." He trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished.

"Did you want to do something special today?" I asked without looking up.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw his face fall, but he shrugged it off.