High school results are coming this Friday, which means I’m about to find out where I’m going to school next year. Going into ninth grade means something different to me than it used to. When eighth grade started, I was miserable: I hated school and couldn’t wait to graduate. Now I just want to avoid the future entirely. I won’t have the same teachers. I won’t have my close-knit creative writing class. I won’t have my friends to run up to in the hallway and annoy and sit with at lunch. I won’t be able to convince them that I abhor my crush when I still like him. In fact, I won’t even be able to see him, either.

We have half of March, April, May, and June left together. I know that I should be focused on making memories to hold on to for the rest of my life, or whatever Hallmark graduation cards say, but there’s the lingering knowledge that we will never be together in the same way. Yes, I get frustrated with my friends, but I love them so much. They’re the first group of people that I have ever been this close to. I don’t know what I would do without them. We celebrate together, we wallow in sadness together, we have Nutella parties. It’s been this way for three years, and high school is ripping us apart. I don’t want our friendship to become a memory, even a beautiful one. Writing this is making me cry, so I’m going to stop now. ♦