Dear Journal:
Today was the last day of school. It was supposed to be last Friday, but we had a couple of snow days (which are extremely rare in these parts) and a bomb threat to make up for.
It felt weird to have the last day of school on a Wednesday. Usually, there’s a buzz to the final day. Kids run around gathering signatures in their yearbooks and saying goodbye to their friends and teachers, and the halls are filled with laughter and hugs (and lots of old homework assignments). It’s almost like a holiday.
Not today. Not in the middle of the week, with the temperature pushing 100 degrees, and half the school deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble.
Sissy, of course, was one of the no-shows, as were most of the graduating seniors. I get it. Graduation’s just a few days away. What are they going to do? Yank away their mortarboards?
Plenty of underclassmen didn’t show, too. I suppose I could’ve been one of them. My attendance has been good this year, and one unexcused absence wasn’t going to blight my record permanently. But I went anyway. Had I stayed home, mom and dad would’ve given me a guilt-trip, and I wanted one more day before they started nagging me about finding a job and getting my driver’s license.
I also wanted to avoid sissy. I’m still sorting through what happened last weekend.
Of course, even if sissy HAD come to school, I likely wouldn’t have seen her. Surprise, surprise, we don’t run in the same circles. She’ll allow me a “hey” or a head nod if we pass in the halls, but she’s usually busy gossiping with girlfriends or getting pawed at by boyfriends.
My friends know better than to discuss Michelle around me, and sissy’s friends avoid me like the plague, so it was a surprise when a voice boomed behind me while I was cleaning out my locker:
“Yo, Jess. What’s up with your sister?”
It was a big guy in a letterman jacket. A football player. I think his name was Chris. Maybe Chad.
I turned to him and smiled. “You mean besides her weight?”
Chris/Chad burst out laughing. “Tell her I said to have a nice summer.” He kept laughing like a hyena as he continued down the hall and out the double doors leading outside. “And to lay off the donuts!”
I felt bad about saying that. It’s OK if I bash my sister—we’re family—but to invite ridicule from a nameless oaf in a letterman jacket was low. Of course, after what I learned last Saturday, it was one of the more innocuous ways I could’ve answered his question.
Hopefully, Dr. Chen will help me sort through my feelings.
--Jessie