by Bradley C.
Three months of staying up until 3:00 AM and waking up at noon proved to not be as hilarious as I thought it would be, which I immediately realized as I woke up for the first day of school.
I quickly questioned if this so called “Bell Tower Ceremony” was worth going to, because I think I would way rather sleep in, drop out, and pursue my dream of being the next big 1/16th Native American rapper.
I get ready to shower, while teaching myself exactly how a shower works again, as I look in the mirror and realize what I had become after my 3 month hiatus – where I spent most days playing golf and hanging out with my brother, Jeff “Pretends He’s As Handsome & Charming As Brad” [Last Name Redacted].
I look in the mirror and see an obese, yet still strikingly good looking old man, with hair as long as Scott D., and a beard reminiscent of a prime Daniel S. after a couple of hours of not shaving.
A quick shower and some deodorant cured all that though, even though that hilarious “Have Braces Even Though I’m A Senior in High School” joke was going as strong as ever. I go to the kitchen to get some quick breakfast, enjoying my strict Pop Tarts and Milk diet.
At this point I am super mad that I have to attend school, and my parents make it so much worse by constantly berating me with comments like “you look great today Brad!” and “I love you so much son!”, but I try my best to ignore my doubters and move along.
It still hasn’t really hit me yet at this point that school is a real thing, so when I run to my grade to make sure that I am on time for the bell tower, I’m surprised when no one tells me; “just kidding Brad, go back to bed.”
All of those thoughts of despair about school disappear, as a tsunami of my many friends (trust me, no matter what Gabe P-F. might tell you, I have friends, at least one) rain upon me.
The dread of school vanishes as Matt S.’s beautiful face, which reminds me of a prime Sylvester Stallone, the very same man he wore on his shirt that day, pops up and gives me the hug of a lifetime. Matt’s really really really really good at soccer and having good looks.
Next up Scott’s decades of uncut hair, and Carl, who’s slowly catching up in length, but who’s hair is equal in the abstract ideas of “lush” and “beauty,” also embrace me. Then Ian B., Jackson T., and Calvin C. quickly remind me that I will never, ever be tall.
Gabe P-F. and I had seen each other just days prior, so we instantly play it cool, before going nuts because WE GET TO SEE EACH OTHER EVERY DAY NOW! My dream girl, Liam W., and I then walk together with our grade to the bell tower, as the rest of the school looks at us in admiration and jealousy of our well coifed hair.
As we all stand near the bell tower, waiting for the ceremony to begin, I spot the man I had been looking for, Owen P.. He pretends he can’t see me, which, I am sure was just a joke – but after having to literally grab him to get him to give me attention, he lets out all of his pent up love for me by punching me in the arm repeatedly, which still kind of hurts.
As Liam, Owen and I sit down together, I feel the heat seeking missiles of the eyes from every faculty member at OES, particularly Kara Tambellini, Coleen Davis, and Andrea Roselle. I know they’re just ready to get mad at us and move us at their first sight of us talking, but we put on the performance of a lifetime, keeping a straight face, ruining the fun of getting Brad in trouble.
I was extremely excited to make fun of what Daniel had to say on his first day as president, but he decided to disappoint me by giving an incredible speech, and the worst part, I felt really, really proud of him by the end of it.
Luckily, that speech was followed by us ringing the bell a million times, which I honestly think is up there with lines at the DMV, and snails watching grass grow as the slowest things in the history of mankind. I feel really bad for the class of 2514, where half of their school year will be ringing the bell.
The ceremony ended, and I ran through the crowds, throwing everyone in my path, from the children to the elderly, to the side so that I could see Nat S[redaaaaaaaactedddd] and Jon D. for the first time all summer.
They didn’t disappoint me. Nat was wearing his Leong Tennis sweatshirt, which I honestly believe is the only article of clothing he owns. Fantastic.
I went through the crowds of people, seeing even more buddies, and even some pals, from Josh “Future Captain of TOLF GEAM” W., whose banter I can still not handle to this day, to Jethro “Other Future Captain of TOLF GEAM” S., who reminds me that you can look handsome with braces.
Out of the blue, I see a light shine from the sky into the middle of the crowd of people, and I run to follow it, knowing that this is my destiny. I am more than pleased to find that it is none other than, my fellow master of music, and love, Natalie B. and my other love, and only and best friend, Lily S.
Lily ruined most of my summer by hanging out with me a lot, and she made things even worse by reminding me that we had a class together this year. Natalie and I spend several minutes talking about how much better our music taste is than everyone else’s, as Lily and Whitney W. gaze on, each debating if it was the right time for them to profess their love for me.
Finally, we all go to greet the faculty that work so hard to disappoint me when grading my work.
Obviously, I was most excited to see Mike Gwaltney, who loves to play his game of “Make Brad Not Sure if Mike Loves Him or Hates Him,” as he reminds me once again that golf isn’t a real sport.
He used to say it in a much more joking manner, but with each rendition of the joke, the smile becomes more and more replaced with a serious reminder that I’m not a real athlete unless I play soccer.
I continue to shake the hands of all the teachers, as VJ, who recently questioned my love of Humanities, which I assured him was my favorite class (ha…) warms my heart with his laugh.
I go next to Maria, the greatest Spanish speaker of all time, and my at school mom, who gives me a big hug, which reminds me of why her son is my best friend to begin with.
I also got a hug from my favorite junior year English teacher of all time, Kara Tambellini, which I saw as a much bigger accomplishment than any grade she had ever given me.
Next up, I shake John Holloran’s hand, as I stumble over my words over and over again, due to me desperately trying to sound smart. I intended to say something along the lines of “Have a nice day John,” but it came out more as “Uh J-john have a day is nice..sorry bye.”
The teachers hands have been shook, and as I walk into the great hall to gather all my stuff for the senior beach trip, I say hello to my little brothers, Petie “No One Ever Spells His Name Correctly” W., and Grady “Should Probably Sign With Hit-Boy” M.
It wouldn’t be a day at school, however, if I didn’t run into Abe A., the king of banter, and Isabella., the straw to my berry, the li to my brary, and the shr to my imp.
I grab my backpack, my sleeping bag, but obviously not my pillow, because that would mean being prepared. I make my way out to the bus, rapping Drake lyrics to Emerson L., because that’s the only language I think he speaks, gabbing with James L., whose British accent continues to reminds me I am inferior, and yelling about Sacramento Kings basketball with Will R.
I thought that this year might be a bit tough, mostly because of the lack of singing Bruce Springsteen with Zach W., the lack of height with Connor M., no more being worse at basketball than H., none of Claire D.’s mumbling, and none of Harrison H,’s pronunciation of Hawaii.
However, as I get into the bus to depart to Camp Magruder, with James G., whose sideburns make me wonder if I’ll ever be a real man, Charlie B., who will never win in Fantasy Football, and Tim L., who I still think might have graduated last year, with Liam at my side, I realize that waiting for summer might not be that awful.