My Senior Year’s First Week Is Next Monday And I Still Haven’t Packed My Backpack
I’m sitting at my desk right now, the one pushed against the wall of my bedroom, and there’s a half-empty iced coffee from Wednesday that I haven’t thrown away. My cat Mochi is curled up on my keyboard, like she does whenever I stop typing for more than 30 seconds, and the only light in here is from my laptop screen and the string of fairy lights I hung up last winter that half of don’t work anymore. Everyone’s been asking me if I’m excited to go back. My aunt texted me last week at family dinner, “Final year of high school! Make all the memories!” I just smiled and nodded, like I always do. But the truth is I’m… hesitant. I don’t want to say I’m scared, that sounds too dramatic. But hesitant, yeah, that fits.
We did all of junior year online, and the last half of sophomore too. I haven’t stepped foot in the actual high school building in 19 months, I counted the other day. That feels like a lifetime. I got used to this whole routine, y’know? I roll out of bed at 7:58 for my 8am first period, brush my teeth while Zoom loads, pull my hair up in a messy bun and no one can tell I slept in it the night before. I wear the same pair of faded gray sweatpants three days in a row and no one says anything. When I get bored in lecture, I pause the video and go get a granola bar from the kitchen, or sit on the back porch for five minutes and watch the squirrels fight over bird seed. I work 20 hours a week at the little independent bookstore downtown, and I can pick up extra shifts during my free period now. I’ve got almost $2,400 saved up for that beat-up 2008 Honda Civic I’ve been eyeing at the used car lot down the road. If I go back in person, I can only work weekends. That’ll add seven, eight months to how long it takes me to get that car. That’s not just a silly little thing, that’s my car for college. It matters.
I ran into my old chemistry lab partner, Jake, at the grocery store last month. We were both in the cereal aisle, reaching for the same box of Cheerios, and we just… froze. We’ve been in Zoom chem together this whole time, we chat after class about homework and how bad our teacher’s background noise is when his dog barks. But standing there in person, in sweatpants and an old hoodie, neither of us knew what to say. I waved, he waved. I said “how’s it going?” he said “good, yeah, how about you?” I said “good” and then I just… turned and walked away. I didn’t even get the Cheerios. I went and got corn flakes instead. It was so awkward, I thought about it for three days after. That’s when I realized I don’t remember how to do this. How to talk to people in real life, how to stand next to them in a hallway, how to not have a mute button to hide behind when I don’t know what to say.
Everyone keeps talking about the full senior experience. Homecoming, prom, the senior prank, walking across the stage at graduation, all that. My cousin graduated two years ago, before everything shut down, and she keeps texting me about going dress shopping for prom, about how I have to go to all the football games, how senior year’s supposed to be the best year of your life. Part of me wants that, honestly. I saw photos from last year’s homecoming on the senior class Instagram, and everyone looked like they were having fun, all messy and glittery and laughing. But the other part remembers how crowded the gym is, how it’s 90 degrees in there and you can’t breathe, how your feet hurt after an hour of standing around, and you have to make small talk with people you don’t even like because you don’t want to stand by the wall alone. If I stay online, I can just scroll through all the prom photos from my couch, eating ice cream, and I don’t have to deal with any of that. That doesn’t sound that bad, right?
My mom keeps saying I’m hiding out here in my room, that I need to get out and be around people. She nags me about the coffee cups on my desk and how I never go out on weekends except to work. But she also leaves extra chocolate chip cookies on my desk after dinner, and she doesn’t nag me when I sleep in until 10 on Saturdays. I think she’s gotten used to me being around the house too. My dad says I’m being silly, that it’ll all be fine once I get there. But he also offered to buy me a new Hydro Flask for school, so he’s not pushing that hard.
I still think about how I forgot how to do all the small, stupid stuff. Like ordering lunch in the cafeteria line. Last time I was there, they changed the touch screen payment system, and I held up the whole line for five minutes because I couldn’t figure out how to scan my ID. I wanted to crawl into the walk-in freezer and just stay there. I haven’t had to do that in almost two years. I just make myself a sandwich at home whenever I want. Or between classes, the bell rings and everyone surges down the hallway, you have to weave past people with giant backpacks, and if you stop to tie your shoe you’re late to class. I hate that. I got used to pausing whenever I need to, no rush, no one bumping into my shoulder.
It’s 8:17 on Sunday night right now. My backpack’s still sitting by the bedroom door, completely empty. Mochi moved off my keyboard a little while ago and now she’s curled up on top of it, like she’s sitting on it to keep me from packing. The school sent me a reminder email this morning to turn in my final enrollment form, check the box for in-person or online. I haven’t clicked submit yet.
Part of me thinks I’ll wake up tomorrow morning, throw some notebooks and a pencil case in that backpack, and drive to school, and it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll even be good. Maybe I’ll make new friends, go to prom, get all those memories everyone talks about. But part of me thinks I’ll just click the online box, keep my sweatpants, keep my extra shifts at the bookstore, keep Mochi napping on my keyboard during math. I don’t know which one I’m gonna do. I don’t think anyone can tell me which one’s the right choice anyway.
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