Melrose High School - Log Yearbook (Melrose, MA)

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We have grown

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THE LAST FIRST DAY Trade Grover As I sit here in this patch of morning sun, school is a distant memory. Summer has never evaporated so quickly before. I do not believe I am going back to school. I will walk through those doors for my last first day of high school. I am a senior. I slept well last night. Excitement did not snatch sleep away from me. No, it was just another summer night. When I was a child, my thoughts were of new school clothes, new friends, new teachers. I imagine the classrooms, the sound of school bells, the feel of freshly waxed floors beneath feet tight in new shoes, the smell of new books. On waking, I would hurry along so as not to be late on the first day. Today, I sit lazily savoring every last moment of the summer. Curiosity does not excite me. I have been through this eleven times before; I know what to expect. Most of the faces in the hallway will not be new to me. Yet, somehow today is different. As I walk through the heavy glass doors into the dark coolness of the building, I start my last first day of school. It is the first in a year which will be filled with lasts. It will be a good year. A year of parties and school gatherings. A year to make decisions. A year to be carefree. A year. My last year at Melrose High School. And this, my last first day, begins it all. 6