“Hey! Wait up!” I clutch my chest indignantly and turn to see my best friend, Cheyenne, running full speed towards me. Her long limbs and boxer braids flapping in the wind. Cheyenne is gorgeous, tall and tan, with dark shiny hair and large doey eyes. Watch her run reminds me of a clumsy gazelle, and I snicker as she approaches.

“Hey Chey!”

“Don’t you heyme. You made me run. I was yelling for you for like…gee…I dunno…TEN minutes.” I cackle at her dramatics as she wipes imaginary sweat from her brow. “I hate running. I could’ve died!”

“I couldn’t hear you over the sound of everyone yapping and roaming around. It’s a mad house.” And it is! The street is lined with kids leaving classes and going to the dorms to pack up their remaining things in preparation for the summer. I, of course, never had that issue. My aunt and uncle guilty me into staying home and traveling back and forth. Only about a fifteen minute drive, but I walk to kill time. I enjoy being out of the house. I prolong it as often as I can.