I had intended to survive. Walks to classes mapped out. Any evidence of my classes hidden from social media. The name on my card entrusted to only a selected few. Confidence was my first fatal error.

It happened after fourth period. The paranoia had all but disappeared. My friend graciously walked me to my car. I climbed into the vehicle-turned-sauna, blasted the AC, and rolled down the window. That was my second fatal error, and the one that ultimately lead to my demise.

An arm through the window; a firm tap on the shoulder; a triumphant cry. “You’re out!” I frantically searched for a reason for this not to be true, but all in vain. My friend was long gone and I was tagged out.

As I drove home, I mourned my lost days of playing Senior Out. I came to accept that it was what would have happened eventually. I learned to look on the bright side: I still had people to walk and friends’ plans to carry out, and I was free from the anxiety-inducing game.