The End of a John Green Novel
Blame my ADHD hyper-focus and sociopathic levels of procrastinating my literal job.
The first day of school arrived like a long anticipated storm. I could feel it in the air as I wheeled my bike out of the garage, the heat was sticky and the sky was grey, ready to burst. I jammed my earbuds in, hoping our song would drown out the morning quiet. Pedaling hard to the bus stop, my memories played like a movie reel. I saw Audrey backlit by the setting sun, her hair a wild halo as she balanced on the boardwalk railing. “Bet you can’t do this” she called to no one in particular before locking eyes on me. “Come on Bambi, don’t be afraid.”
Picturing her crooked smirk, I let go of the handlebars and spread my arms wide. The sky opened. My bike wobbled. The pavement hit my knee. I sat for a beat watching the rain make little streams of blood and gravel run down my calf. I wondered if one day the memories of this summer too might get rinsed away.
I like to hold onto the idea that time isn’t linear but happening all at once - That some version of Audrey and me are sharing a kiss in a hall of mirrors, our reflections distorting and extending into infinity.
But this version of me, the one laughing on the ground in the rain, will never see Audrey again. Like a firework, Audrey’s role in my life was brilliant and fleeting. Some people are like that. They have somewhere else to go, another person to become. But how lucky are you to be a part of their journey? On their way out, they leave a passport stamp on your heart. Get you thinking that maybe you aught to chart your own adventure. Most people don’t stick to each other forever.
That’s why you climb the railing and let go of the handlebars. That’s why you ride the Cyclone three times in a row until your stomach flips and the world spins, and why you don’t make a fuss when sand gets in the car. That’s why summer is so special.
So no, I didn’t finish my summer reading but I learned a few things.
Cotton candy makes your lips sticky
You can’t count stars from a Ferris wheel if you’re too close to the city
Seagulls and men from Staten Island have a lot in common
Baseball games can have themes
Neon lights make everything look a little magical
Pinky promises mean more at midnight