This is a true [dreamland] story.
I'm looking out at the audience from the stage where we're all standing. Somehow other girls from my high school are graduating with me, but this seems normal. They read off honors and achievements for some of the graduates. Then they call for an intermission so we can go and talk with our loved ones before the actual graduation ceremony starts. Many of the girls sigh from annoyance... Wishing they would just get the graduation over with so they could really celebrate. I spot Braylen in the audience with my parents and other family members and beeline through the audience. When I see my dad, he hands me a $100 bill. I shove it in my front right pocket.
Once I get there, it dawns on me that I'm not wearing proper graduation attire. I don't have a robe and sash like everyone else does, and I'm wearing jeans, a dress shirt, and hiking boots covered in mud. So I find somebody that looks like a "backstage worker" and ask were I can get a robe. They point me towards a stack of folded robes.
Great, I love creases in un-ironed robes.
But at this point it seems irrelevant. Before I leave, my dad hands me another $100 bill. I shove it in my right front pocket. The stage worker also points me to a rack of dress clothes you can borrow and hands me a dress from a rack that's a size 2X. I grab everything and run to the bathroom, which is also backstage. I take off my clothes to change and then realize I left my bra by the stack of clothes. So I run (without a shirt/bra on) back to the pile of robes and grab it, not caring who sees me... Having just one goal in mind: I. Have. To. Effin'. Graduate.
I glance at the clock. Why are they starting to read names? I still have two minutes left!!
Fortunately my last name begins with R... So I can just sneak in with plenty of time.
I step into the dress, pull the straps over my shoulders (really cute dress by the way), and my best friend Jessika begins to zip up the side. It zips easily and I realize I don't even wear a size 2X, but again.. At this point... I don't care what I'm wearing. I thank her, she takes my clothes, and goes to sit out in the audience to watch.
I realize I forgot to give her my brown camisole, which is still lying on the floor. Then I notice my aunt and uncle are running down the hallway, teasing and laughing at each other. They're not here for my graduation; they're here for a party that they're throwing in another part of the building. I call to them and ask if they can please hold on to my cami while I graduate and give it to my parents later. They take it and continue running down the hall, laughing.
I turn around, enter the backstage area again, pull my robe over my head, straighten out my wrinkled sash, and begin searching the rows of chairs for my last name.
I'm saying under my breath over and over again my maiden name. Then I realize that's not right, and I look for my married name. Then I realize no names are being read; no one's sitting in the chairs.
Graduation is over.
And I missed it.