Growing Up: One Coffee Break at a Time

Because I’m graduating in less than a month, I find it nice and essential to reflect on the past months. To neglect the stressful times when my desk was merely a heavy stack of hand-ins, and instead attempt to grasp how many good things happened too. If I rummage through my mind, remembering some of the best times I spent with my friends this past year, it seems like there’s a common trait sneaking into all the memories: delightful, warm beverages. Or coffee and tea. In the evening when one of my closest friends and I sat on my kitchen counter, Earl Gray in our palms, talking about our concerns and goals. One hour before prom, when another one of my best friends and I sat on the same place, coffee mugs tucked into our hands, debating if prom night would really live up to anyone’s expectations (we concluded that it was an average night).

I have also realized that, a handful of exceptions excluded, I’ve had coffee with my best friend most mornings before school since early October. Every morning she has strolled down to my house, slung her backpack in the hallway and walked directly to my kitchen to sprinkle too much sugar into her coffee mug waiting on the counter. Numerous times I would scoff and jokingly tell her that coffee with two tea spoons of sugar is hardly coffee. Other times 1st period would begin in seven minutes, resulting to us firstly stating that of course we would make it, and then us scurrying through the door, jogging for a solid twenty seconds before we would give up, walking with long strides instead. I would also, annoyingly so, sprint up and down the stairs because I forgot my damn keys. Sorry about that, T.

The point is, it became a tradition of sorts, an unofficial oath that most mornings, we were each other’s priorities. We talked about greatly superficial matters, we complained about teachers and the weather, sometimes the walk was silent, the day too early and our minds entirely elsewhere. It became the fundamental beginning of our friendship, to have this routine.

Just a few months ago, a moment I sincerely doubt I will forget, my friend and I were hurrying out of a coffee house, iced caramelized drinks in our hands, when said friend tripped on her own feet and clumsily lost balance, a few bystanders snickering slightly.

The wonderful part of it, the part that I never want my memory to dismiss, is that, instead of bashfully shaking her head and speeding away, a bubbling laughter erupted from her throat as she shrugged and gracefully carried on walking. It was all we talked about for the next half an hour, giggling as we sat amongst brooding strangers in the tram.

So to conclude, if I was curious to know how and why my opinions of people, TV shows, food, homework and life have evolved in the past eight months, I really only need to peek through the window of my own kitchen or some café with an overpriced menu and listen.

So thank you to my dear friends. For all the meaningful talks and the endless amount of tea and coffee we consumed. When we no longer attend the same school in the fall, I invite you all to my house for coffee and conversation!

—By Sara H.E., 15, Oslo, Norway