Will Shepherd began the morning like any other. Alarm at 7:45. Snooze twice. Shower. Brush teeth. Cereal for breakfast.
As Will shoveled a spoonful of corn flakes into his mouth with one hand, he poured water to the brim of his coffee maker with the other, splashing some over the side and onto the kitchen counter. Like countless days before, Will placed his bare foot in yesterday’s spilled coffee grounds hiding on the linoleum floor, forcing him to clean them up just in time to spill new grounds on the floor today.
To probably be stepped in tomorrow, Will thought with a grin.
The TV was already primed on the station with what Will thought was the most accurate weather report. Sunny today. Slight chance of afternoon showers. High, a humid eighty five.
Last week it was cold enough for a jacket. St. Louis weather was crazy like that though.
It took seventeen minutes to walk to his class, Popular Culture, the classic, senior year blow-off class. Fourteen minutes if he hurried. Which gave him eleven minutes before he absolutely had to leave his apartment. But eight would be better.
The coffee pot hissed and gurgled, and Will poured the entire thing into a portable mug, snapping on the lid and spilling some of the boiling liquid down his hand.
It only stung for a second, and Will carelessly wiped his hand on his shirt.
He robotically went through the motions of the remainder of his routine. Gather his books, make sure he had a pencil, find his keys and wallet.
There were three missed text messages on his cell phone. One incoherent one was from his best friend, Spencer, sent at 3:30am that morning. With one thumb, Will replied.
Dude, you all right? Stop by later.
The other two messages were from a girl who desperately wanted Will’s graduation day plans so she could invite him to her daddy’s house to celebrate. She wasn’t Will’s type. She didn’t even know his last name. Quickly deleting her messages, he slid the phone into his pocket and double checked for his keys and wallet.
Eight minutes until he definitely had to leave for class. But five would be better.
As long as he stuck to the routine, there was no reason to do any worrying. But five minutes was too long with no tasks to do. He could watch TV, but would make himself late. He could clean the spilled coffee grounds off the floor, but then what would he do tomorrow morning?
But he knew tomorrow would be different. Twenty-four hours from this moment, Will would be a college graduate. Unless something life-changing occurred out of the blue and for the first time in Will’s predictable life, tomorrow would be different.
No more pencils, no more books. At least ‘til grad school. If he went to grad school. What would come next was still up in the air, which meant for at least a year, he wouldn’t be in school.
The uncertainty was unsettling, and time wasn’t moving ahead fast enough.
Three more minutes.
On a day that should have been exciting, Will felt trapped. For him, graduating college didn’t mean the beginning of his future, but the end of an era. Without school, there were no more ends. If he got a job, there would be thirty-plus years of work. No more finals. No more graduations. No more ends. Only routine.
But Will was good at routine.
Two more minutes.
Things came too easily to Will. And he knew it. Girlfriends, good grades, money. And he wasn’t much of a go-getter, as his dad used to say. But Will didn’t have a choice. Without classes, he’d be expected to step up his game, in spite of not really knowing how.
He might have to actually try at something for once. What if he wasn’t actually good at anything? What if it was all downhill from graduation?
The idea made him queasy.
Will shook his head and checked his watch. He could leave now, wouldn’t have to rush, and would get to class on time. It was good to have a task, and Will’s worried thoughts disintegrated.
None of it mattered, really. He’d do what he had to do, and get through today. Like he always did. He’d stay on schedule, stick to the routine. Routine was easy, effortless.