3
I should’ve stayed.
I should’ve stayed.
I should’ve tasted each and every one of those teas, ten times over.
I should’ve made a tea tier list and put the most disgusting one at the top, just to see who’d be gutsy enough to argue with me.
I should’ve met Mrs. Béliveau’s lizard stare with one of my own, a bigger lizard stare, a Tyrannosaurus rex stare, accompanied by a matching Tyrannosaurus rex smile, lipless and toothy.
I should’ve told them all it was my graduation day.
And, sure, maybe they would’ve rolled their eyes and said it was only a certificate, that it wasn’t really a graduation, not the sort that matters .
. . but, on the other hand, maybe they wouldn’t have.
Maybe, instead, they would’ve congratulated me, cheered, and poured a bottle of bubbly into one of the teapots.
Maybe I would’ve seen Marilyn Monroe’s smile again. Maybe Ginger would’ve kissed me on each cheek like I’d run a race. Maybe I would’ve ended up sitting awkward and alone in the corner.
Either way, I should’ve stayed.
I should’ve stayed.
I should’ve fucking stayed.