To Live and Die in Dixie

         Graduation...
         That was one of the many things that were continuously bobbing through my mind like a fish out of water.
         Getting my diploma... Getting an apartment... Going to college... Leaving this godforsaken place... Freedom...
         The thought of these words were just enough to pull my face into a huge ear-to-ear smile. It was here... It was finally here...
         "Whatchya grinnin at?" Dad asked in his deep, scruffy voice, which instantly caught my attention.
         My smile stayed glued to my face when I turned to look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but I knew that he wasn't at all interested in paying attention to the road ahead of us. I knew that he knew what I was thinking.
         But what was the hurt in telling him anyway?
         "I just..." I sighed joyfully. "...just can't believe that it's already here, ya know? It's all making me feel kind of old."
         And that was the truth. The years of hard work, determination, procrastination, sitting in a room with my shithead classmates, time spent doing what seemed like an endless amount of homework were all finally coming to an end. The end of my final year was transforming into the start of a brand new beginning. The transformation reminded me of the phases of metamorphosis that I had to memorize in Biology a few years ago. Only this time, I didn't have to study the steps... I was experiencing it. It was like a new form of metamorphosis. A more exciting form of it, anyway. And I was ready for the final phase. I was ready for it all. Bring it on.
         Thinking of it all only made me want to smile more. Too bad my smile couldn't get any bigger.
         Dad nodded. "You're telling me," he said. "My God, child, your graduation's only two weeks away. Makin' me feel like an old man."
         Dad's appearance was marked with an Elvis hairdo with barely any gray hair growing in, a salt-and-pepper goatee, a stained white T-shirt, and a worn-out pair of Wranglers. The way he was slumped comfortably behind the wheel of his '87 Camaro reminded me of one of those guys in a country music video that would drive by countless women who were drooling at him. It was embarrassing, actually. Especially since he was a 52-year-old Persian Gulf veteran who had a wife and two kids.
         "Ahh, that's because you are and old man," I teased.
         Despite how surprisingly young he looked for his age, it was still funny to tease him and make "old man" jokes about him. He didn't mind at all. As always, he just chilled out and had a good laugh out of it.
         "So," he blurted after a few moments of silence, "you still wanna go to that cookin' school?"
         I wished I had a dollar for everytime he asked that. As always, I reminded myself that this was Dad's first graduation, considering that I was the oldest of his two kids. This was all new to him.
         I nodded. "Yeah."
         He continued to smile. "You and your mother, I swear..."
         My mom and I were always big on cooking. Back when she was able to cook a hot meal for the family every night, I would help her and remember the recipe. For years, things were that way. Cooking was all I ever thought about. And now that the first real chapter of my life was unfolding, I realized that cooking was all I ever wanted to do.
         "Well," I said, "I truly believe that it's my calling in life."
         "Yeah, I know, honey..."
         "Don't worry, Dad," I promised, "I won't change my mind. I can't guarantee that same commitment with Aiden, but I'm just assuring you that you don't have to worry about things with me because this is what I really want to do with myself."
         Aiden held the title of being my little brother... and the laziest person I had ever laid eyes on.
         "I know you won't," Dad laughed. His eyes abandoned the highway and shifted onto me for a split second. "You'll make me and your mother proud. We both know it, cuz you've always made us proud."
         My eyes swelled with tears, but I tried with all my might to hold them back. Just when I thought that my smile couldn't get any bigger, it did.
         Until I realized--
         "SHIT!!! DAD!!! DON'T MISS IT!"
         Dad jerked the steering wheel to the right, into the nearly-missed lane that lead off the interstate.
         "Damn, kiddo, sorry 'bout that."
         Ugh... Kiddo...
         Father lesson number one: don't call your eighteen-year-old daughter the same name that you called them when they were five. Not cool...
         "It's fine," I said, as if Dad didn't just call me by the most embarrassing name in the world. "You've never really taken me to school before. I'm not at all surprised that you did that."
         "Oh, I have," Dad said, like he was some untouchable genius. "It's just been a while."
         I rolled my eyes. It always pissed me off when Dad acted like he knew everything. "Still..."
         "Well, I'll take a look at your truck later today, okay, honey?"
         There... Call me honey, not kiddo.
         I shook my head. "Thanks, Dad, just don't push yourself--"
         "No," he protested assertively, "I have to. Your graduation is in two weeks. Your senior trip is next weekend. Oh, and your job--"
         "I quit my job," I interrupted him, "remember?"
         "You did have a--" he corrected himself before stalling for a moment. "You know what? It doesn't matter. You need your car. And I'm gonna fix it. Got it?"
         Hard headed... Stubborn...
         Yep, that's Dad for ya.
         "That's fine... Just don't push yourself too hard," I commanded.
         Guess what? The same shit runs in the family.
         He just nodded. "I'll jumpstart it and take it down to the shop. You know it's never a problem."
         Dad had been owning and operating his own hardware shop in Grand Prairie since he came back from the Persian Gulf War. He went there everyday, starting at the buttcrack of dawn, and stayed there for hours making sure everything's cool there. He was very picky about how his business was run. One day, I asked him why. He said--and I quote-- "Because... I don't trust them jackasses to do it right".
         "Down more a couple blocks, right?" he asked.
         I nodded.
         After a couple of stoplights, there it was. J.S. Bridwell Junior High and Senior High school... the place I had been going to since 7th grade, the year we moved to Dallas. J.S. Bridwell was a really small school, which was why Dad enrolled me and Aiden there because of his distaste for large schools, for a Dallas school. It was so small, there were only an estimated 220 kids enrolled in the high school alone. Oh, and let's not mention that I was graduating with 57 other kids.
         I looked at the brick building that was my school. It was so uselessly huge that it wasn't even funny. So much time I spent there... it seemed like only a few weeks ago that I started school there for the first time.I couldn't believe that I was finally going to be gone from that place. Who knew? Maybe one day I would actually miss it...
         Dad pulled up in front of the building, close to the main entrance. The entrance had an unusually small group of kids lingering around the pillars and the doors.
         "Dammit," I sighed. "I think I'm late..."
         BAMMM!!!!
         I almost jumped out of my seat when I saw my friend, Blake, slam against the passenger side window, staring at me like some fuckhead.
         "UGH!!!!" I yelled.
         I could hear Dad laughing as I pushed the door open, hoping to God that it would hit Blake in the face.
         "Hey dipshit," Blake greeted me."
         "DON'T.... EVER.... DO THAT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!" I shouted.
         "I'm sorry," Blake laughed. "I just had to do it."
         I grabbed my purse and my bag from the floorboard of the car.
         "Nice car," Blake bragged to my dad.
         He nodded at Blake. "Have a good day, kiddo," he called out to me.
         I rolled my eyes again.
         Addition to father lesson number one... NOT IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS... PLEASE????
         "Kiddo?" Blake laughed.
         I shoved Blake as I hopped out of the car. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!!"
         Not even that stopped his goofy ass from laughing.
         "What did I do, kiddo?" he continued laughing.
         I slammed the door to Dad's car and power-walked toward Blake.
         "I'm going to fucking kill you if you pull another moron stunt like that again...!" I threatened.
         Blake pulled some of his shoulder-length hair behind his ears while he was backing away from me. "Goddamn, Katelyn. I was just kidding. Take a joke!"
         "I've already had a really shitty morning." I whined. "Be stupid on another day, please?!"
         My walking slowed down to regular pace when I finally passed Blake. As any other annoying idiot would do, he trailed behind me, trying to catch up.
         "Aww, what's the matter, kiddo?"
         Ugh, here we go again...
         I rolled my eyes. "Stop."
         He giggled. "Stop what?"
         I looked over to see that he had finally caught up to me, his pace matching mine. "I'm annoying?" he asked, as if I was being delusional.
         "Yes!"
         Pause.
         "Seriously," he blabbled like a moron, "what's your problem?"
         "You are..."
         "Uh-oh..."
         I pushed the front door open and turned around to look at him.
         "What?"
         "You're on the rag, aren't you?"
         "What??" I asked defensively. "Why? What's it to you?"
         He shrugged. "I just wanna know why you're being such a bitch," he answered with a look on his face that made it obvious that he was trying not to laugh.
         I turned to walk down the hallway. "Well, since you wanna know so bad, my car broke down on the way to school today. My dad had to get off work to come get me," I finally admitted.
         "So... you're not on the rag?" he asked.
         I stared at him. I knew he was not going to stop if I put off answering him. "NO."
         "Whew..." Blake breathed. "That's good. I can't handle being around someone bitchy right now."
         I saw him pull his phone out of his pocket and look through his text messages.
         "Then... why do you even bother hanging out with me?"
         He didn't answer.
         I rolled my eyes. "Okay... nevermind..."
         I heard his phone snap closed.
         "I'm sorry... what?"
         I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know what? Nevermind... You're rude."
         Blake giggled. "So are you!"
         "Yeah?" I challenged. "If I'm so rude, then why do you hang out with me?" I repeated myself.
         "If I'm so rude, then why do you hang out with me?" he mocked.
         "I don't," I answered bluntly. "You just follow me around like a lost puppy."
         "Ahh, that's bullshit," he disagreed.
         I turned to look at him. "Please explain."
         "You'd be totally lost without me."
         "Oh yeah..." I said sarcastically, "since I just can't live without you!"
         "Yeah, I know," he agreed, totally ducking away from my sarcasm like a dodgeball, "Your life has no meaning without me."
         "You're so stupid," I insulted.
         "And you're such a bitch," he shot back.
         "Wait a second... I thought you said you don't like bitchy people just five seconds ago?"
         "It's not so much that you're bitchy," he answered. "it's just entertaining to see you in a bad mood. I can actually tolerate you."
         I glared at him. "So... I am bitchy...?"
         He nodded. "To a point, yes. Not bitchy enough to drive me crazy."
         "I'm bitchy... How so?"
         "I don't know. Why don't you show me, kiddo?"
         "Okay, that's it. Screw off," I grumbled. I quickened my pace to get away from him. Not that it would help or anything, since we both have our first class together.
         I walked into the room to my first hour class, which was Psychology. I threw my bag onto the table with the two chairs, which were meant for me and Blake since we were Psychology partners. It didn't seem likely that Psychology classes required partners, but my teacher liked to team us up with other people to test their reactions on a few things.
         I sat down in my chair and laid my head flat on my desk.
         "Howya doing today, Katey?" I heard a voice call to me from across the room.
         As much as I hated being called kiddo, I hated Katey much, much worse.
         I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This was going to be a long day...