Abby Ryan has her whole life planned out, up until graduation that is. As a journalism student at the University of Southern Washington, she has one goal in mind for her last semester of senior year: secure a scholarship for graduate school. But whe...
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I was able to sit still through the first six speeches given by the faculty without letting my mind wander. I was even able to keep my attention on the stage for the valedictorian speech, the three choir performances by the graduating seniors, and the guest speaker—who I vaguely recognized as one of the big business moguls who attended USW in the early 2000s—but now that the dean of students is standing behind the podium reminiscing about his own graduation with a wistful look on his wrinkled face, I can't seem to keep my attention on the ceremony.
Instead, I'm looking down at my leg, restlessly bouncing underneath me, trying not to give in to the emotion that's been brewing since last night; trying not to think about how soon, in a matter of days, I'll be taking a flight out of Pullman, away from everything I've built here in this small college town.
I knew it was coming, the heartbreak, the inevitable homesickness, and it hit me full force while I celebrated in O'Malley's with my best friends last night. After our family dinner ended, Tristan and I promised to meet everyone at the bar, but when we showed up rosy-cheeked and a little disheveled, I could tell that everyone knew we didn't really hit traffic in the sleepy, post-term college town. But aside from an exaggerated wink from Luke and a knowing smirk from Nia, no one called us out for stopping off in the parking lot behind the closed-down supermarket to make the most of one of our last nights together.
I felt the first real twinge of heartbreak when I drunkenly high-fived Micah after we won a round of beer pong against Nia and Luke. His gray eyes were crinkled in a smile as he threw his arm around my shoulders and held up his beer in celebration, and I realized that in the few short months that I've known him, he was finally starting to let me through the boarded up walls that, to my knowledge, only his roommates have been able to push past.
He grinned down at me, and while the music was blaring and the loud conversations and laughter from the crowded bar around us nearly drowned it out, I knew I heard him correctly because I could read his lips in the dimly lit bar.
"I'm going to miss you when you're gone, Ryan." He grinned down at me, his lazy smile a little wider thanks to the alcohol drowning his blood. "It was kind of nice having a girl around all the time. You and Jenny made the house feel a little less...I don't know, lonely, I guess. It was nice."
My heart broke a little more when Jenny dragged me over to the bar and pulled her stool as close to mine as she could so we could reminisce as we downed the three shots she ordered for us. She was coming close to level-ten-Jenny, which was pretty apparent by her drunken babble, but I didn't mind in the slightest as she rattled on about her favorite memories of us through the years.
Meeting for the first time in our freshman dorm.
Blasting our favorite playlists while we cleaned the apartment—which always turned into an hour-long concert of us dancing around and singing way louder than our neighbors probably appreciated.
