It was hotter than Hades in the cramped classroom. The last day of school couldn’t have possibly gone any slower. What exactly was even the point? Finals were taken, and all the grades were being finalized. Being in these un-airconditiomed rooms was just pure torture.
He noticed even the resident flies were too hot to be much of a nuisance. In fact, it would seem, they’d taken up residence by the open window and had no intention of moving anytime soon.
By second period, it was clear, the teachers had given up trying to find something constructive for everyone to do. They just shut off the lights and turned on whichever movie happened to be in the ancient VCR in the corner.
It may have been his fifth time watching the worn out tape, but it was a welcomed change from pretending to care about whatever lesson the teacher had planned for the day. After twelve years of relative diligence, in a few short hours, he’d finally be free. From now on, if he was in school if he was in school it would be because he chose to be there, and not because he had to be.
Finally, it was down to the last thirty minutes of the school day. Popsicles had appeared from somewhere, and the eerie drudgery of the day was broken for a moment.
He was twelve again. Running through sprinklers and chasing friends across molten asphalt barefoot. He would carry these self-same popsicles and be proclaimed savior of the block.
As the cold sugar surged home the relative quiet was broken by talk of summer vacation, jobs, college, and new places to live.
He knew that even if they said they wouldn’t; most of this class would lose touch somewhere down the line as life families, and careers took hold.
But, that was okay, because they might one day sneak a popsicle from the freezer and remember the last day of Senior year when nostalgia livened up a dull, monotonous, and fiendishly hot day.
History has a habit of repeating itself, but it can also bring a smile at the strangest of moments.
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