“Smile,” my mom said. I heard the crisp click of the camera. I tried to hide my anxiousness behind my smile. I could feel the cool air on my freshly brushed teeth. “One more?” she pleaded.

“No,” my brother and I replied in unison.

“Fine. Off to school! Big senior year for Drew and the start of high school for Anna!” my mom shouted in glee. Mom was wearing her pink fuzzy slippers outside on the grass. I could see that the dew was getting her slippers wet. She continued to beam at us, like she couldn’t wait for us to get going.

We both grabbed our backpacks. Mine is new and Drew’s a tattered heirloom from 6th grade. As I turned towards Drew’s car, I let my mom’s words sink in. Drew is a senior. In one year he won’t be here. It will be me – just me. I looked up at him. His hair had been recently clipped short. He was wearing a new shirt that we had purchased this summer on our family vacation.



I’ve seen several of my cousins “grow up” and go off to college. I used to look at them and think, Wow. They are so old. It will be forever until I get there.
But here I am. Heading into high school and in just four years, I’ll be just like Drew, a senior, and looking ahead at college.

We both hopped into the car. The early September sun warmed the seats. Drew turned the key and the car rumbled to life. He pulled out of the driveway and we raised a hand to wave back at mom, her coffee in hand and still happy to see us off. We slowly drove over the bump at the bottom of the driveway.

I looked out the window as we pulled onto the road. The lake was still and glassy. The colors in the leaves were beginning to show and reflected the new season. It’s a season of change.
I started thinking about Drew’s senior year and how old my brother looks. When I was in 6th grade, I remember thinking how all the 8th graders seemed super grown-up.
I dug into my backpack and took out a piece of gum that was sweet like cinnamon sticks. The flavor danced on my tongue.
Then I asked Drew, “So, are you excited for you senior year?”
“I guess so. I’m looking forward to all of the last times – dances, football games, band concerts. It’s kind of sad though.” he replied. “How about you?”
“Kinda nervous,” I sighed, as I looked out at a neighbor going for a run.

“It goes by fast,” he said. “I can’t believe this is my last year.”
The conversation turned silent and our ride to school was one of quiet reflection.

Soon the brown Audi veered into the senior lot to an ideal parking slot that we’d been waiting for. The grass was freshly cut. I breathed in the fresh air and the aroma tickled my nose. The school grounds were all prepared for the new year. I heard shouts from students greeting friends, perhaps they hadn’t seen since last spring. I heard the loud slam of car doors that added to the commotion of high school.
Drew could tell I was petrified as I watched the upper classmen flooding into the school building. I guess it was his brotherly duty to make me even more nervous than I already was.
“Good luck, Freshy,” Drew said with a smirk, and walked ahead of me to the school.
At that moment I felt small. Insignificant. Yet, I realized that this is it. The beginning of four exciting and transitional years that I knew would fly by, much like they had for my brother and my cousins.
“Well, are you coming?” he stammered as he looked back at me. He didn’t have any patience in the morning.
This was a moment I will never forget. I looked ahead at the school. I acknowledged the pace of life. My childhood was over. I was growing up just as fast as my brother had. It was my beginning and already his end of high school.
I quickly caught up to Drew. He looked down at me and smiled.
“Ready?” he asked, a little more sympathetically this time.
He then gave me a pat on the back and welcomed me to high school.