The Hereafter

Chapter 2

|17 years later|

The noise of the crowd was deafening. It was the last game of the final season. After this, it was prom, graduation, and adulthood. We all seemed to feel a sense of finality as seniors ran riot, making the most of their last days of high school.

Wilted Milkweed wildflowers curled up against the tiers of the once red bleachers, now covered in dingy orange rust. It had been the hottest summer since 1956, Labor Day weekend, or so the weather report had said. The town that had once won Best Garden State now retreated into the shadows, unable to grow anything more than hay.

Time slowed when the air was this thick. The mercury tipped one hundred degrees. The bleachers usually provided shade, but I was ready to melt as the sun dipped behind them.

"Can you believe it, Regan? This is the last time we'll be doing this," Charlie sighed, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

I thought back on all the Friday night games, late-night study sessions, endless essays, and the countless hours we'd spent together navigating the confusing maze of adolescence. Somehow, we'd come out the other side bruised but not broken.

Though I was excited about the prospect of college and new adventures, it was hard not to mourn the impending loss of our tight-knit community and the sense of belonging that came from spending years in the same classrooms and hallways.

"Come on, let's go cheer for our boys," I said, flashing Charlie a grin to mask my unease. "They need all the support they can get."

"Right behind you," she replied, her voice steady and strong as we made our way down the steps toward the front row of the bleachers.

Knowing each other since elementary school, she'd borne witness to every crush and character-building haircut I'd had along the way. It was an unspoken truth that the friendship we forged when we were seven would last our entire lives.

It seemed as if the entire school had come together for this one last hurrah before we all went our separate ways. "It's so hot. Can we leave?"

"It's our last ever game. You'll miss these days when they're gone. Apparently, they are the best days of our life, or so I've been repeatedly told. You can't leave because it's too hot."

"But I am serious. I could be in hell right now, and it would take me a good week to realize I wasn't still in high school. This heat is killing me on a soul level. And whoever said these are the best days of our lives didn't mean for us to be here today." I gestured around.

"It's hot enough for hell. I'm not sure if I'm crying or melting."

"Come on. We can still turn this around!" Charlie shouted, her eyes glued to the field as the home team struggled to regain footing.

I nodded in agreement, my hands clapping rhythmically to the beat of the drumline. Despite the losing score, the energy in the crowd was palpable, and I fed off its contagious enthusiasm.

Joel broke free from his huddle, pulling off his helmet. Looking like the typical All-American boy, he brushed his sweaty dirty-blond hair away from his hazel eyes and grinned at me like an idiot. Except he wasn't an idiot. Having sat next to him in most of my classes since junior year, I thought he could have straight A's, but for some reason, he never bothered to try.

I smiled halfheartedly and turned back to Charlie. That boy was too quickly encouraged.

"Regan, you should just go out with him again," Charlie teased. "He might be better at flirting than football."

"Very funny," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Besides, you know I'm not interested.

"Come on, Joel!" Charlie shouted beside me, her eyes never leaving the game. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even when our team was barely hanging on.