High School Graduation Part 1

"We can just keep doing this all day until we get it right. You won't get to see any of your family today, we can just sit here and practice graduation until tonight." Thanks Principal...that's exactly what I want to do.

I'm getting a little sick of the girl I'm supposed to walk next to. We've never met, but we are getting along well enough. For graduation I guess the whole school has decided to drop the "don't talk to us and we won't talk to you" hispanic rule. I've seen this girl around, but last week she wouldn't have given me the time of day. I laugh at how stupid we have all been acting the past 4 years.

We are so near the end we aren't even paying attention. I realize this might be the very last time that I have to worry about being last anymore. I vow right there that I'll marry someone with a last name in the beginning half of the alphabet (I kept that vow too, totally by accident.)

At the point of Graduation I've pretty much gotten to the point where I hate everyone. I'm an angry teen, I just can't wait to leave this all behind. I wouldn't be going through the ceremony if they weren't making me. I don't want to see any of these people again; I can't wait to move on.

I glance over and see a group of guys that instantly proves me wrong.

Roy was my prom date and now friend. To this day when I look over my pictures of he and I, I crush on him all over again. He was everything a silly teenager girl would want in a guy; tall, dark, handsome, and dumb. He was a reformed bad boy in his 5th senior year. His only downfall was that in his reformedness he had "found Jesus" and couldn't really get through a whole conversation without bring up his "Lord and Savior." Needless to say, I warned him that if he said God or Jesus in my presence again I'd strangle him, but I'd like us to be friends. He took it really well. I hear he's a monk now. Despite our differences, I looked down the row at him and smiled. In another life we would have been a really good couple.

Robert and I had been friends since god knows how long. I can't even remember when he moved into town, but he and I were always doing things together. He had flaming red hair which drove my dad crazy, he hated him. I think the real reason why though, was because Robert was the Nevada equilvent of a surfer dude. His casualness my dad took for disrespect. I still have his coat and Ouija Board in my closet. Half of me expects him to come knocking on my door one day, asking for them back. My heart twists knowing that will most likely never happen.

My friend John had turned into a different person by graduation. Up until our trip to the Rodeo where he puked on my shoes after riding the Zipper, he had been one of the greatest bad boys I ever knew. I think he had gotten to heavily into drugs by the time grad rolled around, because he didn't seem to really know where he was. I wonder if they actually produced a diploma for him. My friend David was absent, having really disappeared off the face of the earth a few months before graduation. I heard later he had moved to LA to model.

Then there was Tyson. We had always hung out together, but never hung out exclusively. I never even had his phone number. But I looked over at Tyson at the graduation practice and realized that Tyson was a man now, no longer a boy. His lanky frame had filled out, and he was much calmer than I remembered him. He was the kind of kid that was always "on." He would do anything for a laugh, and never stood still. He always amused me, but I never thought of him as ever being a serious person. He always slouched, from 6th grade on, but today he was standing straight, looking straight ahead. I don't think he saw me looking at him, but it made me suddenly sad. He wasn't the joker any longer. I didn't even know who he was anymore.

And tonight we were going to graduate, and I'd never get the chance to know him.

The First Greatest Day….or, the Swim; scuff marks style!

I tucked my hair behind my ear, again, and gathered everyone together. I was never this bold unless I wanted something badly. I had to win this dance contest…and I knew exactly how to do it.

It was 1995 and my middle class team, the Barracudas, had chosen us to represent them at the Sock Hop Dance Contest. I looked around at my team;

Chris, the one who always did the best break dances and the school dances. He had called me “Hanukkin” once, but I had forgiven him…after he forgave me for calling him “Kwanzzakin.”

Jessell, who I knew was going to smoke. Her whole family participated in Hot August Nights, a 50’s celebration of cars and dance, and she was in all the parades. We used to spend nights at her house learning new dance routines; the only one I retained was Stop! In the Name of Love.

John, Tyson and Robert; my boys. They were like my brothers, but they couldn’t dance worth a damn. They were willing to go for it though, and so was I. The rest of the kids I didn’t know personally…so I had to give them a pep talk.

I got them into a circle and whispered so the other teams wouldn’t hear me.
“Okay guys. We might not be the best dancers here, but we know the moves, right? And here’s where we are gonna win this thing…” Everyone moved in closer, anticipation on their faces.

“When they call out to do the swim…Hit the pavement.”

“Say what?” Chris said, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Do the backstroke…on the floor of the gym. The crowd will go crazy and we will WIN this.” Everyone slowly smiled, realizing we had this thing in the bag.

We put our hands in, counted 1, 2, 3, and shouted a “Go Team,” and we went out to the gym floor. Midway out I stopped in my tracks, causing the others behind me to slam into each other. I turned around and shouted over the roar of the crowd, “DON’T CHICKEN OUT!”

My heart pounded in my chest, I could feel it all the way up to my throat. This was it. “You Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog” blarred over the loudspeakers, and the voice over the microphone shouted, “The Monkey!”

I was proud of Robert, he went for it with gusto. People were laughing and pointing at us already. We had drawn them in…we waited, dancing The Monkey like our lives depended on it.

“The Hand Jive!” The voice shouted.

“Follow Jessell and I!” I shouted to the others, a look of panic had crossed their faces. The Hand Jive was one that everyone always got wrong. Everyone except Jessell and I-we could do it in our sleep.

Twice on the knees, clap twice, the hand shuffle, fists one on top of the other, the double hitchhicker and back to the knees. After two times our guys had it down. “The Twist!” was an easy one, we had no problem with that. Across the gym I saw a couple go all dirty dancing style, and the teachers approaching them to disqualify. Hee.

“The Masted Potato!” “The Jerk!” “The Swim!”

It had become our time.

As soon as we heard “The Swim!” Time stopped. I looked around at my team. We all nodded, ready to put our plan into action. We all seemed to drop at the same time, in slow motion. Looking up at the gym ceiling, I smiled. Time returned to normal speed and I heard the crowd roar as we swam in a circle on the gym floor.

Other teams tried doing it when they saw the reaction, but we were the originals. We had done it. When they cheered for us, we knew we had won. We still jumped up and down and encouraged when the time came to “vote” (i.e. screaming when the say your team’s name).

But when they called our names, I jumped higher than I ever had before…I felt like I was soaring, and the noise of the crowd died away as well all hugged each other. I remember thinking “this has got to be the best day of my life.”