“So how long is summer this year?” Jacob asked.
Zee held up her finger and pulled out her phone. “Give me one minute.”
She calculated two months and twenty-one days until the next day of school. Eleven weeks and five days. One hundred and eighteen thousand and eighty minutes. Seven million, eighty-four thousand, eight hundred seconds. She looked down at her calculator and reported these numbers to Jacob, who laughed.
“That’s very specific,” he said, the smile from his laugh still plastered on his face.
“You didn’t specify nonspecificity,” Zee said with a shrug.
Jacob shook his head. “I bet you can’t say that five times fast.”
“I’m not going to bet against that,” Zee said, making Jacob laugh again.
He opened his mouth to say something, but he was quickly cut off by a loud teacher with an airhorn in one hand and a megaphone in the other, trying to get our attention over the sound of bouncing basketballs, hand clapping, and talking. Eventually everyone fell silent and all the teacher had to say was “If you got out a basketball, put it away. You’re all dismissed, have a good summer,” and with that, she disappeared, which was probably a good idea, because nearly every kid in the gym ignored all instructions to clean up after themselves and formed a singular, running mob.
Zee and Jacob hung back a little to avoid getting trampled. They were both a little quiet walking towards their lockers together. There really wasn’t too much to say.
“So...bye, I guess,” Jacob said when they got to the intersection where they had to part ways.
Zee swallowed. “Yeah, see you,” she said, her eyes flitting up to meet his before she looked down. They stood there for a second, amidst the chaos of everyone around them rushing to get out to their freedom. Zee could think of about ten things that she’d like to say but didn’t. So, with nothing else they were willing to say, they turned and walked their separate ways.