helter skelter

Remember those kids that would come back to the high school after they'd graduated? They'd visit the teachers and walk in the hallways and touch their old lockers as though they held sentimental value. I remember thinking "Get a life. Move on. Can't make friends at your new school?" I was sooooooo much better than them. But wait. I'm not. Tomorrow I'm returning to campus. I'm going to act like a student. I'll attend a student-run function and read an essay for a student-run journal. Should I wear camo? Something to help me fit in? I'm afraid that I'll get too excited. I might say to the other kids "Hey guys! Want to go to the library? We can study!" Or "Who's up for some creamery ice cream?!"  Or "Please let me come back here."  Meanwhile Stephen will have to drag me out of the room, saving what's left of my dignity, and reassuring everyone that the real world is awesome and that they should all graduate soon because really, life outside of school is just the best. And then I'll yell "Liar!" as the final trace of me vanishes out of the JFSB forever. (Room 4188, 7:00 PM, if you care to be a witness).