“Snooze” by SZA is on full blast while I pour a pitcher of boiling water onto the back drain at work. Night air flows in as I and four of my coworkers run this franchised coffee stand at sunset on a Thursday evening. The music rises like hot air while I wince, sticking my hand into the drain and pulling out a composed array of coffee beans and bottle caps. The sunset is beautiful, my clothes damp and smelling like caramel while double shots are pulled and caramel is poured.
I'm sitting in the passenger seat of my best friend's car while we whiz down main street. She drives stick and I feel everlasting in her passenger seat. The rest of my friends sit in the back, crammed and laughing and talking. Window down, my eyes shut, we know every word to this song. After what happened, she prefers to be the driver. Graduation practice is tomorrow, and they all leave for their move-in days in three months. For now, it's my oldest friend in the backseat, my closest friend in the driver’s seat, the girl who's always stuck by my side next to her, and next to her is her best friend and what I can only call a friend-in-law. I don't know her as well, but I love her undyingly, especially for what she did after what happened. We are all yelling/singing to every word of “ Tongue Tied” by GROUPLOVE while stopped at a red light.
“Hey since we have to be at graduation by 5:45-6:00 but it won’t start until 7, does anyone wanna carpool?”. May 21st, 12:17 pm. For the past year, I have had two visions, clear as day. The first is of me and my friends plummeting down the highway in our graduation caps and gowns, a specific song about graduation, that has become more of a cringe cliche now but it is popular for a reason, playing, with the windows down and us singing along on a full blast. In response is an array of “Hmmmm… it depends”, “I’m carpooling with my brother :/”, “My mom is gonna drop me off!” and “I’m going early to take pictures with my family”. And, as it turns out, the stadium we will be graduating in is nowhere near a highway. My second vision involved me getting on a plane. I’d sit down, put my earbuds in, and look out the window at my city as it grows smaller and smaller. I’d turn and never look back. Instead, I drive alone, my family coming separately with my grandparents. After graduation, my family goes for chai and tells me to meet up with them after I finish getting photos with my friends. With a full heart and arms full of flower bouquets, I plug in directions for my mom's location. The next thing I know, I'm soring down the highway with both my windows down, my playlist on shuffle but that very song making its way to full blast, the darkness carrying me and my Sonata to the people I love. The materialization of my vision was unexpected, my reality coming to fruition in an unforeseen way, and the moment was beyond better than what I thought it to be. This upcoming year I'll be commuting 45 minutes to my college classes from home, a reality far from that second vision. I am reminded that great things come to fruition in their time. One day I will get on a plane and never look back. Just not today. This city isn't done with me, not just yet.
I'm standing on my bed, dusk making its grand exit, music pouring through my earbuds. I lean over my footboard, on the tips of my toes, trying to remove adhesive tack and dust from my vent. My commuter future has me itching for a change, any change. What I have resorted to is what is in my control, repainting my room from its mint green to a dusty light blue. An opportunity for a visual reset, taking down four years of wall decor leaves an awful lot of thumbtack holes and blue tack residue. I dance along to music that reminds me of last summer, the same song blasting while I filled up the mop bucket during closing in the backroom of the Plato’s Closet I worked at, me and my manager versus dirty floors and cash drawers. My mom would pick me up. My siblings, 7 and 11, wander into my room in shock and awe of my blank walls, a sight that boggled their minds, as well as my own. Bare walls.
My dad comes into my room and looks at the swatches on my wall. Three shades of blue, a light orange, and a light green.
“This is the one I'm leaning towards”, I gesture to the one furthest left, “Blueberry ice. Mom is saying I need to go lighter”.
He replies “I’d say two shades lighter”.
“Yeah, I don't know if they have a lighter version of this color. I need to go to Lowe's and mess around,”
“With all the stuff on your walls, you want a color that highlights the decoration”
“Yeah. Are we out of painter's tape?”
No one is outside of the coffee stand, leaving me and my coworker out there with a beat of silence. we're both wearing huge lime green jackets that make me feel like I'm in a cocoon. It's far too chilly for mid-May. Leaning against the siding under the awning, he asks
“You're asking me how my day’s been?”
“Not gonna lie it’s been weird. I’m here but I'm not. I don't know what's up”
“I get it. I’ve been a little sad, little heartbroken. Little tired. I walked the stage Saturday” Graduation.
“Thanks. My girlfriend broke up with me after”
“Well shit” is my best attempt at a response.
“Yeah. I've been lowkey heartbroken. Like I'm just in my room, sad”.
A car pulls up, needing an order taken. As if it’s any consolation, I tell him
‘I'm here!’ I’m sitting in my car outside my friend's house, waiting for her before we head to my oldest friend's graduation party. My windows are down and I'm having a great time singing along to every lyric. I have the next few songs queued up so I know our drive will be a good one. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her run up to my car. I turn my music down and unlock my car. She jumps in, panicked.
“Girl why are you out of breath! I’m not going anywhere”, I say with a lighthearted laugh. After a gulp of air, she tells me
“I think I almost got hit.”
“Shit. Are you okay?”. I’m not great at responses.
“Yeah, I'm just-”. She takes several deep breaths. I try to remember what to do when someone has a panic attack.
“Do you want water? I have some in the back”
“Yes, I just need to calm down”.
She takes more deep breaths, in a way I recognize, these are practiced breaths, necessary ones, regulating ones. She’s going through the motions.
“He was yelling at me because I was wearing short sleeves. Like I’m gonna wear full sleeves in this hot as shit weather. He raised his hand and I don't know, I just got scared”.
“Do you want me to drive”
Five hours later, almost everyone left the party. The sun is going down, me, her, my oldest friend, her boyfriend, and a friend I don't know but has a personality that makes it make sense that the two are friends, play badminton in her backyard. Frank Ocean deep cuts play as the birdie flies up and over the fence too many times. We laugh and tell each other things no one else knows. Things are good.
My back leans against the wooden frame of my best friend's house, now thirty minutes further than last week. I’m the first one of her friends to see the new house. She is frazzled, frantic. She speaks to her mom in a way I wouldn't, leaving me standing and awkwardly smiling,
“You guys have a beautiful home”.
Her mom is out pulling weeds, she stands in front of her bathroom mirror trying to choose between a selection of gold necklaces or a single chunky necklace made from wooden beads of various sizes. She has her own bathroom. While she washes her face, she tells me she feels behind. Like she isn't doing enough, isn't ahead. I tell her I feel the same way, almost constantly. Adults keep telling us both to relax. She turns, pausing applying her mascara, and tells me
“ I don’t see a world where you don't succeed. I don't think it’s possible”.
I really hope she’s right. “Now or Never” by Kendrick Lamar pumps through my speakers while I glide down the highway toward my home. One day I hope to earn the feeling the song presents to me. I work 9-5 tomorrow.
