Carter
“Hey, Ms. Jones,” I say as I walk past my pantsuited principal toward the front doors of Ridgedale High.
Inside, the halls are thick with first-years, yammering in high frequencies and moving at a glacial pace.
next to me. “Yearbook will start up in a few weeks. You’re in, right?”
“Definitely,” I say. “I’ve been taking a lot of pictures lately. So. I’m excited.”
“Yes, Carter!” Ms. Himberton says, her short purple hair bouncing. “I’m excited too!”
I’m about to say I can see that, but she’s already sprinted onward.
I spot Bodhi, Amir, and Robbie gathered near the lockers ahead. Before I can reach them, though, someone grabs my shoulder.
“Dude! Hey!”
It’s long-haired Everett, one of my best customers from last school year.
“Oh hey. I actually, uh . . . I’m not doing the hookup thing anymore,” I tell him. “Just taking more time to focus on other
stuff. Like photography.”
“No, man, that’s what I wanted to tell you,” Everett says. “I couldn’t stop thinking this summer about what you said that one time. How vaping is destructive to my health. So I looked it up. You were right! It’s, like, really bad!”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah, man. So I don’t do it anymore!” He holds up a hand for a high five, which I give him. “Hey, do you ever do photography
on skaters?”
“Uh, I haven’t. But I could.”
“That would be sick, man! I’ll hit you up soon.” Everett pats me on the back and disappears in the opposite direction.
It all feels so different from when I first showed up here last December. Better. People know me, and this time I know them
too. Bodhi calls out my name as my friends spot me, and it is only then that I’m reminded of the one thing that is worse:
The person I most want to see is no longer in the building.