Pretty Destruction |N.H|

1

Jasey Foster

It's hot out.

It's hot, and it's sunny, and I have been standing for a few hours— well, switching from standing and sitting, and standing and sitting, following instructions like robots following their common leader. It's ridiculous. I want to go home. I want to take a nap. I want to go on a cruise. I want to be anywhere else but where I am right now, surrounded by faces of those that I don't care to see again, with the exception of a select handful. And those few would be very select.

The sun beats down on me like I'm its worst enemy. My head is only partially covered, but where the garment meets my forehead, a thin layer of sweat starts to form. I continue to wipe it carefully to avoid messing up my appearance.

I rock back and forth on my tired feet, looking up at the sun as it blazes down on all of us.

This is a nightmare.

I thought I would be nervous for this moment in my life, but in reality, I'm just bored out of my mind.

I look out to my right and find a stadium of people. Hundreds. There's a lot, but I truly don't care. I spot the few people that I want to see, give a fake smile that disguises how miserable I am in this heat, and face forward again after seeing their exaggerated waves to make sure I see them.

I couldn't miss them. They stand up and whistle and make noise for me even when it's not my turn. I'm appreciative of their attendance, but lord help me, I need them to be just a little quieter no matter how proud they are.

Then, there's the person with their phone out, holding it up like they're filming. I furrow my brows at them, only to receive a thumbs up in response like they're telling me not to worry about it.

Every name that is spoken into the microphone and amplified around us sounds less and less like names and more like mumbles of an unidentified language because of how long this has gone on for, and we're not even halfway through it. I wait for mine anyway.

"Krislyn Mia Edwards."

She was in my entrepreneurship class. Kind of nice. Maybe she was faking it. I don't know. I don't really care about this place anymore.

"Reegan Sara Fields."

Oh! I liked her! Pretty hair. She told me she liked my shirt once. I think that's the only interaction we had other than me asking her for the homework when I was away visiting my boyfriend.

"Jasey Louise Foster."

Shit! That's me.

I didn't even realize that I was next in line, that the girls in front of me had already left and made it to the other side.

I look up with my eyes wide and pretend like I have been paying attention. I take a few steps forward until I'm supposed to shake hands with someone, take a piece of paper, smile for a photo, and then finish walking off the stage. All I hear are collective cheers for me as I have everyone's attention.

I try not to flood red with embarrassment, even though I know they are doing this because they are proud. I can't help but wish this would go by faster and the next name would be called immediately after mine so I don't have to spend another second with everyone looking at me.

When that part is finally done, I sit back down in front of everyone with the rest of my class, tapping my hands on my thighs as I try to distract myself and make the rest of the time go by faster.

Even though I want to get out of here, I know the next step is taking about a hundred photos before the idea of going home and sleeping even becomes a slight possibility.