Have you ever felt your youth slipping away? Well being a senior makes every moment feel like the last chance to be young and reckless.

   It was a Thursday. I anxiously waited in Eastern’s cafeteria. My pack of friends stampeded towards the table to grab seats. I just sat there, brightly smiling at them. Billy, a dark haired boy with the personality of a teddy bear, shot me a look that said, “Oh no, she’s thinking again.”

   They knew. Everyone at the table groaned when I shouted, “Guys, let’s go to Homecoming!” I got the usual eye rolls and scoffs, but that didn’t stop me. I pushed on.

   “We’re seniors! It’s our last chance to go, and I know you don’t have anything better to do.”

   Now travel forward with me a few hours, around seven o’clock, night time, with a dark, humid air. The seats in my car intensely vibrated to the beat of Happier as I whipped my silver Buick into Eastern’s parking lot.

   I opened the car door. My glossy, five inch heels, clacked on the wet pavement as I stepped out. My scarlet red dress flared and illuminated in the parking lot lights.

   My long hair blew in the light breeze like a model making her runway debut. Like a movie star on the red carpet, my friends and I strutted up to the main entrance.

   I paused. I soaked up that moment like time had never been more precious.

   I shoved open the glass doors into Eastern’s lobby which transformed into a sports lover’s paradise. Long lines of hyped up teenagers extended out the doors as the students impatiently waited to buy tickets.

   I suddenly felt a wave of nerves crash over me. I didn’t see many seniors. As the night passed those worries melted away. The intense heat in the gym would’ve been overwhelming if I wasn’t completely entranced. The colorful lights and the bumping music and the mob of students partying made the perfect cocktail.

   It was a scene straight from The Great Gatsby. As I spun around and laughed at my pathetic attempts to dance, I smiled. These were the moments I lived for.

   The next morning, I dragged myself to my TIR room with thirty seconds to spare. A voice echoed on the announcements, but one fact stood out.

   Five hundred kids at homecoming. And seniors were the second most represented class. We were defeated by a mere six people.

   It’s easy to pretend you’re too cool for school events. In the end everyone, myself included, knows to be young while you can. Homecoming ‘18 gave that vibe that said, “Be young and wild and free.”

   Advice to the class of 2020—find those six people.