4th Hour
November 17th, 2014

A Different Understanding

All of the adults around here think teenagers are just moody, hormonal, pain in the butts, whose skills include clearing out an entire pantry shelf in a single afternoon, and complaining about every possible thing they can think of. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a teacher or parent say something like, "You're just a teenager. Your problems aren't nearly as bad as you make them out to be." It seems as though they've forgotten what it's like to be our age. They've forgotten the heightened emotions, the desire to be independent, and the beginning of the seemingly impossible search to find yourself...

I shoved all of my anatomy stuff in my backpack five minutes ago, but Mrs. Erickson is still going on and on about our quiz tomorrow over dermatology, neurology, oncology and what not. The bell finally rings and I’m the first one out of the room. Strategically weaving in and out of the crowds, I make my way to the lunch room. Rounding the last corner, there's a group of slow walking girls that I can't get around.

"Oh my gosh did you guys see her skirt?"
"Why would someone ever where that to school?" 
"Guys there’s Brendan!
Rumstadt 2
“Did you see how hot he looks in that jacket?"
"I know, I can't believe he's dating that sophomore."
"He could do so much better than her."
"Imagine how popular he would be if he was dating someone cool."

I'm finally able to get around them and spot my friend Isaac sitting in our usual spot, the same table we’ve sat at for the past four years. "Hope for future generations of this school is fading fast,” Isaac remarks as I fill him in on the conversation I overheard in the hallway. “We’re lucky, to be getting out now Mark. If things keep spiraling the way they are, there’s not gonna be a functioning brain cell left in this place.” With that, Isaac begins his daily lunchtime rant, today’s topic being the “lack of substance to most of the kids at this darn school”. I nod and contribute the occasional “Uh huh, yep, couldn’t agree more”, but he’s way too worked up and involved with the rest of our table to even realize that I’m not paying attention. Ten minutes go by and I'm already sweating. Somehow the Arizona heat always seems to find it's way into this lousy school, even when all the doors and windows are closed. I’m gonna miss this place though, as much as I don’t like it. I grew up with so many people in this cafeteria, played football with them at recess when I was younger, struggled through math classes over the years, helped deal with break ups and fights, and really just life in general. Yet so many others are strangers to me, people I never talked to or got to know. There's only about a month of school left, even less for us seniors. So many of my classmates are thrilled to be graduating. They applied to colleges months ago, got accepted to five different ones because of their outstanding GPA’s and well rounded personalities, and are practically ready to move into their dorm rooms within a moments

Rumstadt 3
notice. My eyes land on Sophia Kinnster, a perfect example of the perfect graduate. We used to be best friends, Sophia and I, inseparable. There used to be a bright light in her eyes that
glistened when she looked at you, when she talked to you. She had this way of just standing there quietly, listening intently, and never interrupting. We told each other everything. She’s always with her friends, who have all known her way longer than I have. The five of them have a rare friendship, a genuine one. I've never heard a single bad remark from any of them about one another. They are always sharing secrets, problems, stories, and most of all, laughs. Sophia and I had something that I’ve never had with anyone else. In terms of friend groups, interests, hobbies and personalities, we were polar opposites. Nevertheless, a few witty conversations was all it took for me to discover that we fit like puzzle pieces. She brought out the best parts of me...we brought out the best of each other. “Mark!” Isaac’s elbow jabs me in the ribs so hard that I feel it tingle all the way to my fingertips. “We’re getting down to our last couple lunches together bro, it’s a little late to be fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.” Everyone chuckles as I punch him in the arm, and involve myself in my suddenly intriguing slice of pizza. I’m not like Sophia. My life isn’t some perfectly wrapped box with a crisp red bow tied around it. She’s got her entire future planned out, and I don’t even have a clue what I’m doing or where I’m going after I graduate. There are seven billion people on this planet who I haven’t met yet, and one hundred and ninety two countries I haven't visited. Yet I am stuck in this insignificant town, being pressured to make decisions about my future, when I barely know who I am.

“You need to look up this song, it will seriously change your life.” Sophia rushed as she snatched my cell phone from my hands, and I could only watch as her nimble fingers typed away on the tiny screen. That used to be normal for us, in fact we used to have new songs to
Rumstadt 4
share with each other almost every day. Music was our main connection. Like everything else, we had different tastes, but her an I, we understood music in a different way than most people
do, on a different level. "It’s an amazing thing," she used to tell me, "how you can find pieces of yourself in a song." Those were the simple days, when we would help each other with homework, and text for hours after our parents thought we had gone to bed. I had never met someone who understood me the way that she did. But life has a way of pulling people apart, a lot of the time for reasons we don’t understand.

All too soon people start packing up their things and crowding around the doors of the lunchroom, and I get up and do the same. I follow Isaac and the rest of them and get as close to the doors as we can, and pretend once again to listen to Nick’s version of what happened at last Friday night’s football game. As the crowd starts to move forward, I glance over my shoulder. My heart skips a beat because she’s looking right at me. Out of shock I blink, and she’s gone. Lost among the dense mass of teenagers, swarming to get out of the cafeteria, on to their next class, on with their lives. “Mark let’s go!” Isaac shouts and grabs my backpack strap, dragging me along until we’re caught up with the rest of the group. I turn around again, convinced that if I just look hard enough, look long enough, I’ll find her again...but she’s gone. The minute bell rings and I whip around ready to jog to class, only to find Isaac waiting for me a few feet away. We race to class together, and just before we duck into Mrs. Mallory’s history class, he murmurs, “Sometimes the people we want most in our lives, are the one’s we’re best without.”