Baccalaureate

I remember being very impressed once, by the Sapphire. A book I had as a child told me that it had the unique ability to change in colour and appearance; to sparkle blue at midday and burn reddish-gold by candle light.

The Senior's blue graduation robes reminded me a little of the shape-shifting Sapphires. On Billie and Margaret, it was a cheery, creative blue. On Angie and Kat, it seemed filled with hopeful potential. And of course, on Layla, it transformed again, into something dark and dignified.

I noticed immediately that she was standing a little differently from the others, that she had folded her arms again into the opposite sleeves, so that the long fabric met in the middle like the classic monk's robe. It was quite funny. Once again, Layla had transformed something almost ordinary into something extraordinary and scholarly.

And also hilarious. I laughed aloud, and when she saw me at the door I put my hands in my own sleeves to show her what I was laughing at. She laughed too, and I'm glad that happened.

It felt so strange to see them walking across the stage. We had been together for so long- since I came to St. Louis in the third grade and it was the fourth graders, never the fifth, who captured my wonder and respect. Sure, they had moved ahead of us before, but it had never felt like this. We had always known they were simply waiting for us, further on up the road. Now they were dispersing, going every which way, out into a world that would never truly return them.

And then there was Layla. I always thought, somehow, that we'd find our peace in the end. Perhaps that was our peace, that moment laughing over long sleeves together. I'm not certain.

When she walked I saw everything over again... Qatar, and Nutshells, and Quiche, and Pokemon, and Furuba, and Veritas Waffles, and our Summer Emails, and Desert Layla... Anime Club, Book Club, Government, Racquetball, Derivatives in Latin Class... And I remember her coming to my side that day, when I came to practice in tears. She flew to my side- I can remember the motion perfectly. She came to me when I needed her, and she'll never know how grateful I was.

In one moment all of this went through my mind, and I struggled in vain, one last time, for closure. The moment ended and she was gone. Unexpected, a tear fell. The first tear never falls so much as leaps, sparkling, onto the cheek. The rest fall easily. I didn't move otherwise and merely hoped my mascara wouldn't run.

I was the first to leave - right as they were passing candles. In the fading light of the empty lot I felt as though I walked straight into an empty sky.