You Right Now Is the Best
1. Lucy
I always believedthe act of tossing graduation caps at the end of a commencement ceremony only occurred in the movies. If that was the case, then I was the main character in my own blockbuster film—and I never wanted the credits to roll.
Every single person in the auditorium screeched and yelped as the announcer declared us The Class of 2023.
A medley of caps were launched above while rainbow confetti trickled on down. Some chucked theirs up so high you’d think they were trying to hit the light beams on the ceiling. Others didn’t go higher than a foot above their head.
But I slowly removed my cap and held it out in front of me.
I skimmed my fingertips over the finest black velvet, then gathered the silk tassel in the palm of my hand. Every fiber of my body burned, and for a moment, I was lost in my own line of thinking. It was as if I was falling into the pile of quicksand known as reality and I was being swallowed whole. My future was in the palm of my hands—literally.
“My Lucy! How do you feel?” I was brought back down to earth as my best friend, Gracie, shouted at me over the roars. I picked my head up and searched for her voice in the row before me.
I gave her a faint smile as I gripped my diploma tight to my chest. What was I to say? I was thrilled, of course. I was relieved, tired, scared, but one thing for certain, I was ready. I had never felt more ready and motivated over something in my life.
My words were scrambled like the thoughts inside my brain, so much so that I mumbled a concoction of strangled noises and gave Gracie two awkward thumbs up.
I wove through the displaced chairs and briskly hugged those in passing, commemorating our solidarity. There was the guy with the Buddy Holly glasses that I often saw at the bookstore and the group of girls who played with a bunsen burner in the back of chem lab one year of undergrad. Whether I truly knew them or not, we were all in the same boat for the last four years and we were the group that didn’t sink. We swam. And now we are going to swim straight into a much larger body of water.
Working towards my medical school degree was the longest, most rewarding time of my life. Even after countless nights of having my hand glued to a coffee pot, and welcoming the sunrise before I had even fallen asleep, I never once regretted choosing this life.
The array of feelings was paralyzing.
I wish I could bask in it for a sliver of a moment. But like clockwork, I immediately began thinking about what was next. There’s no rest for the wicked. I had a residency program that was starting up in the fall and I cannot lose my touch now.
Just because the summer left room for a break, didn’t mean I would take one.
“Love to hear it!” Gracie shrieked as I reached her.
Her golden hair swept over her shoulders as she skipped away through the crowd. Her enthusiasm was contagious. It was almost powerful enough to break the mask made of stress that I’d been sporting. Almost.
There was a natural, gravitational pull towards Gracie when we first met.
It was the first week of classes in my second year of med school. Everyone scrambled around the room, trying out the different corners with the best view of our professor or finding the airflow from the air conditioner. I had thought I was going to drop the class altogether when I found myself next to a guy who had never heard of deodorant…or closed-toe shoes.
By the third day—and what felt like the millionth shift around—she and I were bonding over stickers of Joey and Chandler that I had on the back of my laptop. We never went through the awkward stage of smiling in passing or wondering if we should say ‘hi’ or not. We just knew we were going to be best friends from the start.
And despite being on separate ends of the social butterfly spectrum, we found out that we mesh well. Instantaneously, she became—and forever will be—the Rachel Green to my Monica Geller. Anatomy was the only class that was able to fly by or seem manageable. And I had our friendship to thank for that.
We shared notes, brought each other heaps of caffeine, and eventually, we started hanging out on the weekends and making plans outside our study sessions. Wherever there was one of us, the other wasn’t too far behind. We have been inseparable since the beginning.
Trailing a few steps behind, I watched Gracie mingle with her girlfriends. They were all tall, tan, and blonde—they resembled angels on Earth and were essentially clones of one another. These girls could hypnotize anyone with their sweet laugh. Any time spent around them, you found yourself feeling a little lighter and brighter.
“Are we ready to get going? Our ride is on the other side of the parking lot,” I say, holding my phone screen up to them.
All six of us piled on in an Uber XL and drove toward Gracie’s childhood home. After a short ten-minute drive, we arrived outside of a house that has become one of my stomping grounds over the last couple of years. A tunnel of clapping and congratulatory praises welcomed us. I nodded their way and even mouthed out my thank you’s, but I quickly became overwhelmed.
I made a beeline for the sliding glass door where I could steer clear of the commotion. It was my first chance to finally breathe today. Only seconds later, Gracie’s mom, Fran, approached me with sparkles in her eyes. Her dad joined us with tears in his.
“My little girl. It feels like only yesterday I was pushing her on the swing in this very backyard,” Sam said while looking over at their tire swing covered in spiderwebs, held together by a disintegrating rope.
It was as if he were replaying the memories of her adolescent years as he watched her move through the backyard, telling party guests about her summer plans before her intern year was set to start. Fran gave him a sympathetic look while rubbing his arm, and holding back tears of her own.
It made sense that they were the people I was surrounded by on the most momentous occasion. The Evans family, their household in its entirety, has always welcomed me with open arms. I never expected to share this day with my mother. No matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to make her proud of me while growing up.
I learned quickly to be my own cheerleader. Along the way, I found people more than excited to be on the sidelines for me. That’s what mattered most—not the person who birthed me and who hasn’t spoken much to me in almost twenty years. But I’m sure she’ll find out about today through tagged photos on social media and pretend like she found out straight from the source.
Gracie waved me over and I swiftly maneuvered away from spending my night with her parents. I love them to pieces, but I would have been trapped in an endless conversation that resulted in taking out photo albums—ones that I’ve already seen—at one point or another.
Gracie’s boyfriend, Asher, standing on the other side of her, took a swig of his beer and swiftly slapped her ass before letting his hand rest there. He never once looked in my direction, and I didn’t blame him. I gave him a noticeable side-eye once as I approached the group.
They have been together for almost six years, though I don’t think he ever deserved six minutes of her time. Gracie Evans was the girl that deserved everything and more, she just needed to realize it herself. And being with a guy who aspired to be a “finance bro” was not going to help matters.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Gracie turned to face me, moving us to the drink table.
“I thought this was the plan?”
Asher scoffed at my question and motioned to the bartender for another beer.
“You’re silly, L.C… I love my parents and all, and this is a great party that they put together,” she looked around at the Pinterest-worthy table with food labels that somehow relate to the medical field, “but I want to do something with just you guys.”
I groaned in all of my antisocial glory as I picked up one of the little sample cups titled Vitamins and popped a couple of gummy bears in my mouth.
The distinct chatter and giggles from the girls mingled behind us while they all took videos clinking their drinks together. I leaned in towards Gracie where only she could hear me, “Alright, but when you say you guys, is he included in this outing?” I cocked my head in Asher’s direction.
She clicked her tongue with a teasing nudge at my arm to follow. “Come on, it will be fun. I promise. You gotta do something for yourself every once in a while!”
“What are you talking about? My trip back home is something for myself.”
Granted, I was heading back to roll up my sleeves and get my childhood home ready to be put on the market. Nonetheless, it’s still something I wouldn’t normally do. It’s far from my usual extracurriculars.
Reading books, textbooks, and reference books was more my speed. Studying and being hired to help others study was more my speed. Getting sweaty and coming face to face with a life I’ve put off too long was not my speed.
She scoffed, “That is not the same thing. We’re doctors now! You are a doctor now, Little Lucy Lou…That deserves to be celebrated. Come on, let’s celebrate together!”
How her words somehow made me feel like an adult and a child simultaneously was almost alarming. “Little Lucy Lou” was seemingly a doctor, at least that’s what”s printed on an eight-and-a-half by eleven piece of cardstock. And that’s when a terrifying thought washed over me. Was I nothing more than a little girl playing pretend doctor?
“Sorry, guys, but I don’t know. I think I am going to turn in early. We will celebrate another time, another way. You guys have fun whatever you end up doing!” I gave Gracie a quick parting kiss on the cheek and waved to the girls. “I have a six a.m. flight, and you know me… I like to get to the airport three hours early.”
Alright, maybe not literally. But I sure as hell was never going to be the person who rushed through TSA or shouted at the gate attendant to hold the plane.
Gracie flashed me a pout, but nodded softly, accepting the inevitable. This was a fight she knew she was not going to win. She turned back to the group while I snuck out the back gate, deliberately avoiding any more conversations. I’ve never been one to add to an already busy mind, so I opted for a self-care type of night with eye patches and fuzzy socks to celebrate.
Within a couple of blocks, I was already walking up the front porch to the townhouse that Gracie and I shared, and I scurried into my room. I kicked off my heels in opposite directions, let my dress pool at my feet, and climbed under the covers.
Right as I found the best position, Gracie’s cat, Paul Varjak, pushed his way into my room. His long, white fur shed from his coat as he jumped onto my bed and pushed his head beneath my hand to pet him. While he is technically her cat, I’ve convinced myself he prefers “Aunt Lucy” a tad more, being that he and I are the homebodies of this household.
Instead of hitting the sack, I naturally reached for one of the many books stacked on my nightstand. I contemplated between my pick from last week”s bookstore trip and the Jane Austen novel I’ve read a million times over but landed on the book that’s been sitting on my e-reader for months.
My new read and I had a long night ahead of us.