You’re Late
Dear ??
Um. So I don’t even know your name. But…thank you? I think. It was nice of you to send the card and wish me a happy birthday, but I feel compelled to remind you that I am eighteen, not eight. A card with a kitten on it is just…weird.
I graduated from high school today. Everyone keeps telling me it’s such a big deal. That I should be excited. That this is the beginning of everything—oh, the places you’ll go!
But I stood there in that stupid cap and gown, and all I could think about were the two empty chairs in the auditorium.
No one clapping for me. No one crying happy tears. I mean, technically Cal, my guardian, was there, but stuff like this is no big deal to him. He’s so…unmoved.
So if you knew my father, you’ll understand why I don’t really care that you wrote.
You’re late.
—Reva