Underneath the Sycamore Tree

by B. Celeste

She lasted five days after being admitted

All she wanted was to finish senior year. To graduate. And she did.

Emery wore a fucking UM sweatshirt before she fell asleep on that too-tiny bed, and sure enough, there was a makeshift patch with my name on the back. Her eyes never opened back up though. She never officially said goodbye.

I promise I’ll be at every single game. She lied.

Then it happens. The fucking sunshine. The dispersing clouds. The rainbow.

“Is that a miracle or what?”

I stare up at the sun. “Yeah. A miracle.” I think about the two matching headstones underneath the sycamore tree in Bakersfield while staring up at the sun beaming down on my teammates.

At closer glance, I recognize some of the colorful Post-its inside. When I unscrew the top and pull one out, my jaw grinds. They’re the Post-its I left for Em.

She saved them all?

If you don’t go to UM, I’ll haunt you.