The Last Day of High School: A Time to Say Goodbye to Your Classmates and Hello to Your Future (Or Maybe Not)*

Second in a Series of Reimagined Versions of This Scene

* By OpenAI, aka Bing Chatbot, in the style of Dave Barry

“So long,” I said to the hot cheerleader (former cheerleader, I reminded myself) who had let me sign her yearbook. I had written this heartfelt message: To Ann Saroyan: You were a swell classmate in English this year. It was a real hoot! Yours truly, Jim. I gave her back the yearbook and flashed her a winning grin.

Ann Saroyan – she looked kind of weird in regular clothes; I was used to seeing her in her skimpy cheerleader outfit – smiled back at me. Her hazel eyes sparkled with graduation fever. “Thanks, Jim,” she said. She handed me my yearbook. She had scrawled: Have a blast in the future. Love, Ann Saroyan, Class of ’83.

“Thank you,” I said after reading her words and closing my yearbook. “Seriously.”

Ann smiled some more. She looked amazing. I stood there for a while, still thinking how odd it was to see the queen of the cheerleaders in jeans and a plaid shirt. She was very hot. She leaned in and planted a quick peck on my cheek. “Bye, Jim,” she whispered. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall, grabbed her stuff and left the classroom, probably to get more yearbook signatures.

I watched her go, and after checking out the almost empty classroom – Mrs. DeVargas, my English 4 teacher, had bailed earlier to get some coffee so she could finish grading a bunch of boring final exams in the safety of the English Department office – I picked up my backpack, shoved my yearbook inside, and walked out into the hall.