The Yearbook Essays: Emery

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A YEAR TO REMEMBER: NORTON HIGH CLASS OF 2019

This One's For You Guys
Emery Chernychevsky

"Tonight, I'm gonna be selfish."

I was told yesterday that my friends Blake and Asher were writing an essay for the yearbook. Right now, they have three days to do it. I was also told that theirs were a few pages right before mine, so I guess that leaves me to start this essay with an apology. I haven't heard from them yet, or read a draft of any sort, but I know I owe you guys a big bag of sorry's on their behalf.

I love my friends very very much.

Anyway, I'm looking at the clock. It's 1:35. It's late. I should be asleep. I could've done this later when the sun is up but I won't. Why? Because tonight is the night that I decided to be selfish.

To the few people who know me, I've often been called "too kind for my own good," or that I "could use a little bit of selfishness from time to time." I know that sounds a little self-serving coming from me, but I've heard it. I don't know if it's true because personally, I don't feel it. I guess I'm just the way I am and the way I act is not something I worry about too much.

Well, it doesn't matter because tonight, I'm gonna change that.

Yes, you read that right. Tonight, I'm gonna be selfish and use my high school yearbook as an open letter to the only few people I care about. If you're not one of them, then... well I bet you're gonna wish you were (no offense).

Growing up, I didn't have any friends. It took a while, but five people somehow made their way to me and decided to stick. Despite how long it took, I'd like to think that I'm still allowed to call myself lucky. Ian, Blake, Bryce, Asher, and Cam, you guys, you're all amazing and everyone is about to find out why. That is if they keep on reading, which I assume they are. If you got to this part, there's no way you're gonna stop now, are you?

Asher Sanders gave me his pencil.

Not many people know this, but I knew Asher Sanders first. We had a class together in the eighth grade. I'm not sure if he even remembers this but yeah. I remember him because of that one time my pencil broke in the middle of an exam. We weren't allowed to get up from our seats so I broke down, I mean I broke down hard. Asher saw me cry. I'd wished he didn't but now I'm glad he did. He gave me his pencil. I can still remember him smiling and whispering to me, "You're fine." He was right. I pushed through and got 98 out of a hundred. Asher Sanders saved my life that day even though we didn't know each other that well. The next time we saw each other was when I decided to try out for the swim team. I thought he wouldn't remember me, but when I made it to the team, the first thing he said to me when he saw me was, "You know you owe me a pencil. Welcome to the team."Since then, Asher was one of the only few people who always made sure I didn't feel alienated as the 'new guy' of the team. Even when I couldn't hang out with the guys that much because of the seemingly-endless-as-it-was-pointless rivalry between the captain and my best friend, he was never one to shy away from saying hi when we pass each other in the hallways or keep himself from ranting about all the awful teachers when we were the only people in a room. So, to Asher, thank you. Thank you for being my first friend, and thank you for lending me your pencil. I'm keeping it.

Blake Yeun is an idiot.

Blake rubbed me the wrong way the first time I met him. I was a freshman when I joined the swim team and it was a particularly cold September when the seniors threw a hefty party for the new recruits. Maybe I was just having a bad day or perhaps it was due to my natural aversion to crowds, but I swear the ground shook when Blake arrived at Ellie Miller's apartment. My eyes were nearly falling out of the back of my head from too much rolling at his corny jokes and touchy character, but I persevered. So what changed my opinion of Blake? I got an answer to that: nothing. He's an idiot, but the thing is, that's what I and most people grow to love most about Blake Yeun. Blake taught me what it was like to just not give a single fuck about what others think, except the ones that matter. Once, when I was invited to his birthday, Bryce told us to come bearing gifts. I didn't particularly like Blake and I wasn't going to waste my money on an expensive gift so I drove the shortest route to the flea market and bought a big hat. It was this stupid sun hat with a flap behind it to cover your neck. I didn't expect him to like it, and I sure as hell didn't expect him to be the happiest with my gift and spend his entire birthday party wearing it. That night, I couldn't stop laughing. For some reason, Blake wouldn't stop cracking jokes about my favorite shows, and I always thought it was just a pleasant coincidence that happened to happen on the night that I decided I liked him. When I asked him about it a year later, he told me was really nervous when I RSVP'd yes to his invitation. He told me he wanted me to like him because he thought I seemed cool and he was afraid I thought he was a dolt. I did, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. I guess the cat's out of the bag, Blake. I still think you're a dolt, but guess what, you're my favorite dolt.

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