In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

EIGHT

[June 24, 2019]

In three days, I will undergo surgery to remove the melanoma from my skin. While this procedure signifies a step towards being physically free from the cancer, it doesn't necessarily mean an immediate liberation from its impact on my overall health. Following the surgery, there will be a series of appointments to ensure that my well-being remains stable and that there are no lingering concerns.

Tonight we have little bound fire with all of the senior. We have to wear our college t-shirt and I found this really exciting. One of my most significant achievements, and a source of immense pride, is the acceptance letter I received from NYU. The decision to apply to the same city where my brother resides was a natural one. Last year, when he was drafted to the Rangers in New York, he extended an invitation for me to join him after high school. It was an opportunity to not only continue my education but also to be close to family and experience the vibrant energy of the city.

School for me is really important. I'm the kind of person who would willingly choose studying on a Friday night over going out with friends. Good grades have been a constant companion, a testament to my dedication to education—it's perhaps the one thing I've always excelled at.

I put on my purple NYU t-shirt, and as I put on the final touch with a hint of makeup, there's a sense of anticipation in the air.

I hear the familiar sound of my friends' car pulling into my driveway, and with my bag in hand, I say goodbye to my parents.

As we drive, the car echoes with laughter and the resonance of songs that will forever be etched into our memories. These moments are destined to become core memories for all of us.

As the bonfire crackles, casting a warm glow on the faces of friends and classmates, there's an unspoken acknowledgment that this is our last chance to savor the collective spirit before our final goodbyes.

Amelia proudly wears her UPENN shirt, and Norah her Indiana University emblem. The atmosphere is thick with emotion, a blend of excitement and nostalgia for the moments we've shared throughout high school. Many of my peers opt for the University of Michigan shirts, a popular choice among our graduating class.

Amidst the flickering flames, I spot two other individuals sporting the NYU emblem—the same one that proudly adorns my chest. I offer a friendly salute, a subtle acknowledgment of shared futures in the bustling city that awaits us. Funny to think that a simple logo could creates new connections.

The bonfire becomes a poignant farewell, a symbolic bridge between the familiar comforts of high school and the exciting unknowns of what lies ahead.

Everyone is talking to each other and we remember stories from our first year in high school.

As the bonfire flickers, Mia's comment about Jack's absence sparks a brief interruption in the lively chatter.

"Jack is not here," she observes.

"No, he's still out of town since he got drafted," I respond, a touch of pride in my voice. The excitement of his recent achievement lingers, and I can't help but convey the pride I feel for his accomplishments.

"Really? I thought you two were not together anymore," she asks, curiosity evident in her tone.

The question hangs in the air, a moment of uncertainty settling over the conversation. I feel a mixture of surprise and confusion at Mia's comment. Gathering my thoughts, I respond, "No, we're very much together. He's just busy with media and sponsor commitments. The distance is temporary, but we're going strong."