October 20, 2005
High School Reunion
Jill Brooks, INtake columnist

I attended my high school reunion this week. A nervous chill crept around my neck and down to sweat my palms as I stood in line waiting to register. The friends I attended with kept saying, “This is surreal; this is really weird,” so I suggested we go get sushi and forget the whole thing. I was overruled.

We grow high schools big here in Indianapolis, and mine was no exception: 1,000 students in my class. I remember sitting next to kids I’d never seen before at our graduation, and the most awful part of the reunion was trying to pretend that I wasn’t studying the nametags at which I was so obviously staring.

Education is wasted on youth, and I was never thrilled about high school. My school spirit retired when I left eighth grade, and when cheerleaders asked, “How ‘bout you?” I usually answered no.

I was a daydreamer. I wanted to be writing instead of learning the Table of Elements; wanted to be reading instead of memorizing math formulas; wanted to be hanging out with my boyfriend and skipping French class (wait – I did that as much as possible).

Most of my girlfriends joined social clubs in high school, training bras for sororities. They had to carry bags full of candy at all times, and a word was actually invented for this: pledge sack. My teenage angst was from having to keep a parking sticker in my car that told the world: high schooler.

I wanted to be older.

At the reunion there were several ‘expected’ surprises: geeky guys who turned handsome and cool; “loner” girls who now travel the world and run companies; and plenty of full-on flirting between all of us. I was happy to be soaking up details instead of writing; was thrilled to learn real life stories I’d missed between passing periods instead of reading fiction.

I wanted to be younger.

I missed the cold, gray walls of high school; the geometry teacher with the mismatched socks (sometimes shoes); Nutty Bars for lunch.

Seeing everyone again, there were no cliques, no pledge sacks, no competition. We were all friends, all equal.

In line for a cocktail (once forbidden circumstances amongst high school classmates), I turned to see the eyes of my high school boyfriend’s best friend smiling upon me. The former boyfriend was M.I.A., but tears filled my eyes as I hugged my friend for several minutes and he said, “Let’s never lose each other again.”

My heart filled with school spirit.