Page 1 of Something Rad
1987
Bay View, California
one
SARA
“Can you feel it?”
Do you ever stop and think about how one moment in time can change everything?
A single word spoken? One choice made? One action taken?
Every minute of every day, every person on this planet is making decisions. Decisions that not only affect them and the route of the rest of their lives, but, often unknowingly, the lives of those around them as well.
Even though we all like to imagine we’re the main character in our own movie, that’s simply not the case. And it’s in those moments– the ones where you lose control, the ones where things don’t go your way, when you realize the spotlight of life actually isn’t following you at all, but is just catching you in the periphery of someone else’s main stage– that you realize it’s all just a game. And it all just comes down to if you’re willing to play. If you’re willing to put yourself out there. If you’re prepared to accept any possible consequence of your actions.
For some, that answer is yes. For others, they’d prefer to stay safe, to stay in the dark where solitude is comfort and ignorance is bliss.
And then there’s others. The outliers. The ones that don’t care who the star of the story is, as long as they get a say in writing it. As long as they have some control over this forever unpredictable world we live in. As long as they can contribute, can make it better, and can leave their mark behind, they’ll be satisfied.
It’s an incredible thing, to feel. But it’s a purely magical thing to makeothersfeel.
Or, at least, the thought of it is.
I wouldn’t know.
But I’d like to, one day.
I just need to begin. I have to start somewhere. And I guess that somewhere will just have to be the halls of my small town high school.
One final year. I can do this. Ihaveto do this.
“Hello, Earth to Sara?”
“Sorry–What?” I startle, breaking from my trance at the same moment our school bus rockets over the familiar entirely larger than necessary speed bump that I know means we are entering the school parking lot.
Welcome back, the speed bump seems to say.
Our blue Bay View High School marquee literallydoessay it though.
I turn fully to look at Alice, the sharer of my torn up back row bus seat and also my best friend since elementary school, seeing her dark brows raised at me.
I raise my own auburn ones in return. “What?” I repeat when she doesn’t say anything.
Alice breathes out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I asked if you can feel it,” she says.
“Feel what?”
“The air!” Alice huffs, exasperated.
“You’re asking if I can feel the air?”
“Not the actual air. But what’sinthe air.”
“And what’s in the air?” I question her as the bus pulls to a stop in front of the school.
“You know…the feeling,” Alice pushes, bumping my shoulder with her own.
