So, as it turned out, I did not get into the high school that I wanted to go to. When I first saw my results, I couldn’t believe it. It was by far the worst moment of my life. I have never cried as much as I did on Friday.
I’m feeling a little better now. My friends helped me calm down, and I realized that the school I did get into is not really that bad. There are a lot of courses that I can take there, like creative writing and psychology. Maybe I hyped up my first choice: sure, it’s larger, offers more languages and sports, and a lot of my friends are going there, but not going there is not the end of the world. I’ll reapply to some other schools for my sophomore year.
But nothing seems exciting to me anymore, and I’m pretty sure it’s because of Friday. I was eager for summer, and now I’d rather not think about it, mostly because it means orientation and some placement tests for school, and I sort of don’t want to deal with that any earlier than I have to. And I don’t like going to school, because everyone in eighth grade is talking about next year, and even though some other people didn’t get into their top choice, most of them did.
I don’t know what high school is going to be like. I want to meet fun new people whom I can really relate to, and I’m not sure if they exist at the place that I’m going to. Everyone there seems…bland. Does this mean that my dreams of having an amazing high school experience—one that I can look back on with minimal regrets—are crushed? ♦