On Feb. 4, I took my final bow with Freeplay, Wilton High School’s improvisational group. While crying and hugging my castmates directly after, the main thought circling my head was, how on earth am I going to get back to see this show next year? I want to see my best friends perform and make me laugh, even if I’m no longer part of it. And then it dawned on me that I would literally have to find my way back home, alone.
I thought through every possible scenario. If I’m at college somewhere in the Northeast, I’d have to hop from bus to bus and hope that I, a mature, highly functioning 18-year-old grown-up could manage to end up in Wilton instead of rural Maine or a cow farm in Pennsylvania. But what if I’m not in the Northeast? What if I’m on the opposite side of the country? Maybe I’ll have to navigate a huge airport all alone. And that doesn’t include getting to the airport, locating the correct terminal, boarding the plane I’m supposed to board, and then managing to get home from the airport. Not to mention collecting my luggage instead of someone else’s, actually paying to get home with my minimum-wage summer job as a camp counselor, and arriving on time.