The Significance of the Number Two and a Half

Two and a half months until it all ends. Four years of happiness and nostalgia, laughter and depression ending with the both dreaded and anticipated graduation. It is a day that I am not sure I ever want to happen.

How? How could my time here end like this? Hawthorne was my life since grade five, and after this, it will fade; retreat from the forefront of my thoughts until it is just a bittersweet memory among many others. I will be venturing into unexplored territory: high school.

My time at Hawthorne is mostly muddled, but some memories are still fresh; clear and pristine in my thoughts as if the events they encompass happened yesterday.

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I am at the back of a line. The line includes the individuals who will soon become a daily part of my life; my classmates.

Oddly enough, very few seem to be girls. In fact, other than me, I have counted only two. One of the girls is in the middle of the line. She is obviously familiar with some of the other classmates, as she and a certain number of them are grouped together and talking.

The other girl is right in front of me. 

“Hi,” I say tentatively, my voice hardly above that of a murmur.

She turns around. She is a Chinese girl with thick glasses, and longish black hair.

“Hello,” she says to me.  “My name is Emily.”

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The other girl, who's name I soon learn, is Augusta. She is quite tall, with bouncy, curly hair. Augusta is energetic and flighty, and can both talk and type at a absurdedly quick rate. She is also quite outgoing, and within a few months, started calling me "Cuddly", or "Cudlanis".


“Cuddly, you must get MSN!”

“No, I don't want to...”

“Cuddly, you must get MSN!”

She is also the person I have to thank for getting me hooked on Warriors. *sigh*, I can still remember her complaint about how long it was taking for “Sunrise” to come out, and then afterwards, her rants on how bad and depressing the book was.

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The quirky, creative, streak of Augusta balanced out Emily‘s natural sensibility. And then there was me, the over-reactive, super-childish, half-maniacal, immature one. It was never boring being part of the “Three”. NEVER.

High school is going to change all this. But all these precious memories that I have hoarded like treasures; how am I ever going to be able to let them go?