The Other Side of Tomorrow

Meredith tilts her head this way and that. “Okay, okay. If that’s what you want to do then you should.”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

Bowling would be low key and chill. I don’t want to do anything at home, I’m already here enough, and while Meredith’s suggestion wasn’t the worst thing in the world it’s just not what I want to do.

Besides, I don’t want to make a big deal out of my birthday. For me, it’s always been just another day. I’m not one of those people who celebrates the whole week, or heck even the whole month. It’s just not my style.

I’ve always preferred to fade into the background.

The song changes and Meredith grabs my hands, hauling me up.

“Dance with me,” she begs, but not giving me a choice as she begins to swing my arms.

I can’t help myself and begin to dance with her. Harlow stands and joins us, the three of laughing and dancing the goofiest dance we can muster.

When the sun begins to go down, sparklers are passed around, and I run around like a joyous child, watching the sparks ignite in the air.

Above us, fireworks go off, lighting up the dark and starry sky with red, white, and blue. The fireworks shimmer over the ocean before melting into the nothingness.

With a racketing boom, more and more light the sky.

The three of us stand together, our sparklers extinguished, and watch the show above us.

I grab Meredith’s hand on one side and Harlow’s on the other.

I give them each a squeeze, thankful to have these two amazing girls in my life. I don’t think society puts enough emphasis on friendship and how important it is. But I’ll never take having them for granted.

As the last of the fireworks disappear, I make a wish.

Maybe it’s not normal to make a wish on fireworks, but I do it anyway.

A week later I throw the ball down the lane and watch it soar toward the pins, and then at the last second, fly into the gutter.

July fourteenth marks my eighteenth birthday.

Legally, I’m an adult, which is weird to think about.

In many ways, I feel like I’ve been an adult for years, and in others, I feel like a child who still needs her mom and dad.

“Ugh!” I groan and swing around to face my small gathering of friends—just Meredith, Harlow, and a forlorn Spencer.

I can tell he’s trying to be a good sport and be as upbeat as he can, but he can’t hide his sadness completely.

It’s hard being a teen and losing a friend. It reminds us that we’re not invincible. I learned that a long time ago, unfortunately, and had plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that death is imminent.

You can’t avoid it. It’s the one uniting factor in all human beings. No matter your color skin, where you’re born, your gender, we all die.

I want to say something to him, to try to offer him any comfort I can, but everything I think up sounds too … blah. I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to write off his friend’s death, because that’s not what I’m doing, but I wish I could make him understand death isn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it’s the easiest. Living is harder. Feeling emotions. Experiencing pain.

“Well, I tried,” I mumble, waiting for my shiny purple ball to come back around. I’ll be honest, I picked it more for the color instead of paying attention to the weight, so that might be part of my problem.

The ball pops back up and I grab it.

I hold it steady as I walk to the lane. I take a deep breath and let my arm swing.

The ball releases and slides down the lane. I squish my eyes closed but still manage to peek through. There’s a crash as the ball collides with the pins and I open my eyes fully, jumping for joy when I see only two pins remaining upright. I’ll take that as a definite win.

I skip back to my seat beside Meredith; Spencer and Harlow sit on the outside of the table.