Senior Night

Last night was the last home football game. Here, that meant the end of the terrifying reign of kind of evil pep band. But at Westwood, that would've meant Senior Night. They'd take a picture of all the seniors wearing their letter jackets up in the stands and then we'd all go home and the seniors would stand in a long line and the whole band would go down and hug every single senior.

Freshman year wasn't overly extraordinary. I hugged the baritones Melissa and Daniel. I was afraid to hug my drum corps section leader Pipkins until he irritably told me I was his favorite freshman so I better damn hug him. I hugged Aubrey and she said she remembered me from the day she had brought 3-D chalk. I hugged my first drum majors, Suraj and Elsie and Nick, who all smiled and knew my name and thanked me for being a good little euphonium. I hugged Peren who picked me up and swung me around, making me feel like I was important and loved and an integral part of his life even though I was just friends with a member of his section. It was my first truly emotional band experience.

Sophomore year, I was a wreck. A good wreck, but a wreck nonetheless. After the game, I had waited for Micaiah to finish taking pictures. As we walked back to the busses, nervous to hold hands in public, he went on and on about how excited he was to graduate while I got increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of all my seniors leaving. We got back to the school, and as I promised myself I wouldn't cry, sweet little Marisa played and sang her original composition. It was so beautiful to see this freshman sing about how much she appreciated the seniors... And then she started crying, sobbing so quietly and intensely that she had to stop singing altogether. I knew it was over for me.

But I stayed strong. I didn't cry as I hugged my old section leader (and Stupid Jessica's brother), John, and my former section mate Leyla. I didn't cry when I sadly remembered that Ashley should've been there. I didn't cry when I hugged my captains and dear friends Krista and Lisa. I almost started crying at the sight of Micaiah, but he cried out that he wouldn't hug me if I cried. I smiled and he hugged me, pulling me closer and tighter, as if he wanted to absorb me like an amoeba, before choking up and passing me along to Alex, who rolled his eyes but hugged me anyway and passed me to Lipinski who was much more welcoming with his hug. I hugged my drum majors Ryan and James and freaked out because the third, Jonathan wasn't there. They laughed and told me he was a junior, and I jumped for joy while trying to wrap my brain around the idea of a junior being drum major.

I walked out of the procession to the waiting Stupid Jessica, said "wow, I almost cried but I didn't. I am proud of myself," and then burst into tears. She cried and Susan cried and I couldn't stop crying. I waited for Micaiah, and as we walked back to the band hall, holding hands under the cover of night, he simply asked if he could call me when we both got home. I said yes and then we hugged, my tears wetting his cheek and his heart beating so fast I could feel it. When he called me, he told me all about his life since he joined band and orchestra in middle school and guard in high school. I remember, his favorite performance up to that point was a finals during his sophomore year, just like me now. He told me of all the people he'd met and places he'd been and things he'd learned, and then, as I was getting a lump in my throat, he stopped and said, very clearly, emphatically, and unconsolably, "Emma, I will miss you so much." He cried for the next five minutes straight and I cried for most of that time and we dried our tears and sat in silence for a few minutes more before continuing our conversation for another hour.

Last year, we did the senior at the last concert, which I thought was kind of dumb. Probably because I had very few friends and just hugged Melissa before running after Taylor so I could inform him that he hadn't hugged me and then awkwardly proceed to do so.

This year, I've felt that I'm not a senior. I don't feel as if I'm acting on people's lives like seniors should. I haven't been the benevolent fairy godmother figure with psychedelic chalk. I've been neither overly gruff and loud nor overly kind and huggy. I haven't threatened to punch anyone's boyfriend or cheered for a colorguard girl cuz she plays euphonium. It feels like other people are still acting on me instead of I on them.

But maybe that's how all people feel. We admire and adore and fall in love with people who make a difference in our lives. Even all these seemingly perfect and fantastical people have their own group of people who mean something in their lives. We just always know what we feel and often never know how others feel. I never told my old drum majors that I worshipped the ground they walked on. It took four months after our break up to tell Micaiah how much those tears of his meant to me. I still feel like I never properly thanked Taylor for being to welcoming and inspiring to me.

And as I, a student leader of the band, ate a cold treat and hung out near a swing set with a sophomore colorguard girl who wasn't sold on the idea of being a captain, I thought back to when Krista and I ate slushies in the park near the swings as we talked, former captain to incumbent captain, graduated senior to accomplished sophomore, friend to friend. It doesn't matter how many people's lives I change as long as I affect one single life for good.