Our 12th-grade dean had just ripped off another number on the countdown calendar in the senior common room. Covert balloon orders had been placed to fill the school for our senior prank. Promposals were starting to take place in the hallways. My gown had been moved from the back to the front of my closet, a black halter design with a multicolored butterfly pattern.
As the senior class sat together in a grade-level assembly, the head of school made an announcement over the loudspeaker: Our spring break would begin one day early. We could hear cheers coming from the juniors downstairs (clearly they were eager to begin their vacay sooner rather than later).
But a solemn air swept over us seniors. At our school, classes conclude in March because of an independent study program for the remaining months—and this announcement meant less time to say goodbye. But little did we know that it would be our last day together...ever.
That night I was studying for my calculus final when my dad burst into my room. “We just got a robocall,” he started. “School is canceled indefinitely.”
My mind raced in a million different directions: Would I ever even take the math final? When would I get to see my friends? What about prom? Senior dinner? How would we sign each other’s yearbooks? Would we even have graduation? I was so overcome with emotion it took me a few moments to realize I was wiping away tears.
Esta historia es de la edición June/July 2020 de Girls' Life magazine.
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Esta historia es de la edición June/July 2020 de Girls' Life magazine.
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