Walking onto campus, the temperature seemed to drop a couple degrees. This was common. My friends and I often joked that Gunn high school was the gloomiest area of Palo Alto. This was supported by the eerie cemetery that could be found across the street from our beloved high school. 

Like always, I headed over to the girls’ locker room to meet my friends. The locker room was our hang out spot; we met here every morning, at lunch, and after school. It was quiet and private, upperclassmen never came in and lower classmen forgot about it after they left their P.E. classes. Yes the strange stains on the bathroom walls and the wet toilet paper stuck to the ceilings were a little disturbing, but we did not mind. It was our little spot away from the rest of the school; we could talk about whatever we wanted. I spent my first 15 minutes of school in the locker room, until the loud shriek of the bell interrupted my time. 

I headed to my first-period class: Trig with Mr. Kaneko. Entering the class I immediately walked over to my friend, watching her face spread into a smile; she held up the routine morning brownie, offering me a piece. I watched her mouth as she chewed and talked at the same time. She let me borrow her chapstick, I pressed it to my lips, not giving a second thought about the germs. 

My peers' chatter in the background seemed to overpower our conservation; they were discussing the coronavirus. People had started wearing gloves and using hand sanitizer almost every period; they seemed a little over-cautious to me. I had first heard of the virus a couple of months prior; a friend had told me that his hometown --Wuhan's-- had been infected with it. At the time, I had thought nothing of it. After all, pandemics only really happen in sci-fi movies. 

The bell rang, and Mr. Kaneko began asking us to settle down and prepare for our quiz. I had been studying all night and was eager to get it over with. I sat in the corner near the door and pulled out my N-spire and pencil case. Halfway through my quiz, another teacher walked in, informing Mr. Kaneko and the rest of the class with him that today would be the last day of school until spring break. This was great news to me no more school! I finished my quiz, ensuring to box all my answers, and turned it in. 

During lunch, the word of school cancellations spread quickly. Everyone started to discuss all the things they would do with their free time: go to the beach, hang out with friends, even party. I headed back to the locker room, eager to meet with my two best friends for lunch. We shared our lunches and gossiped about the recent events: fights, boy trouble, sibling drama, and much more. 

My final period was Government with Mr. Weisman. Mr. Weisman was a funny guy, he often would tell jokes, and my peers and I would reciprocate with more jokes. When the bell finally rang, marking the end of the day, I turned to Mr. Weisman and jokingly said to him: "Goodbye, Mr. Weisman, this will probably be my last day of high school! Don't get covid!" He laughed and nodded, telling me to take it easy. I smiled and exited the classroom, thinking I would return in a couple short weeks. 

Nowadays, I cringe at how naive I seemed to be on that last day of school, how my actions and thoughts did not understand and reflect the severity that was coming. If only my peers and I had known what was coming, we wouldn't have complained every day about school, we wouldn't have taken for granted seeing each other's faces. Covid made me miss the small, simple things that were a regular part of my routine beforehand. The pandemic made me miss the locker room, sharing chapsticks and lunches, talking and joking with my teachers, having random conversations with peers during brunch. Even though Gunn may be the gloomiest area of Palo Alto, I miss it more than ever.