On the record

Miles is cutting through the main hallway after last period when he spots Sarah leaning against the lockers, phone in hand, looking like she is killing time. Sarah is one of those people who exists comfortably in every social circle without fully belonging to any of them, which is probably why she is good at what she does for the newsletter. He has known her since freshman year.

Sarah: hey you. where are you rushing off to?

Miles: nowhere in particular. You?

Sarah: just decompressing. This week has been a lot. She falls into step beside him naturally. Can you believe it's almost over? Like actually over?

Miles: still doesn't feel real.

Sarah: right? She shakes her head. Just need to get my final edits for the newsletter in. The last newsletter I would write in High School, can't believe I am saying that.

Miles: I know, this year is going by quickly. I hope this last newsletter is a good one. I know it's your baby, can't wait to see you finish your Journalism degree and become a prime time reporter.

Sarah: maybe. She laughs. So are you ready for prom? Big night coming up.

Miles: getting there. Should be a good time.

Sarah: you think you're getting prom king?

Miles: Meeh, who cares.

Sarah: You don't care if you win? Well I am sure you care who becomes the prom queen though, the two front runners are both someone you know very well. Who's your pick?

Miles : Haha isn't that supposed to be a secret.

Sarah: There's no secrets in this high school, come on, indulge me one lat time.

It sounds exactly like the kind of thing you say to someone you have known since freshman year, walking down a hallway, killing the last few minutes of a Tuesday. He does not think twice.

Miles: genuinely? It should be —