Prompt: Let  the good times roll/ Let them knock you around (Good Times Roll, The Cars)

Have you ever just sat back and reflected on life?

Me neither. I'm an action kind of guy, if you know what I mean.

But I'm a senior now, and everything is beginning to change. Everyone is moving away and going to different colleges, and friends you've known your entire life will be ten states away whenever you want to talk to them. What happened to baby steps?

You ever appreciate every minute you have in school?

No way! At least, not before this year. Every time I look around I wonder if it will be the last time I'll see people's faces again, like that teacher who always rolls their age-old overhead down the hallway or that couple that always makes out in the corner by the locker rooms. Maybe I won't miss them.

Still, you know what I mean? It's like trying to stand up in an earthquake, with everything sifting and moving and you can't for once get your balance.

I'll miss Rock Bluff High, and my best friend, Hank - our late-night Halo sessions and that time we planned for hours how to cheat on the AP Chemistry test only for school to be cancelled the next day because an ice storm blew in at the last minute. I'll miss my girl Jess and cheering for Hank on the stands at football games, and that one time I had a stint as the Rock Bluff High School Cougar mascot that didn't have eyeholes and wandered into the football game. And got tackled. Hard.

Good memories, right?

In school when you don't want them to the days tick by so slowly, and now that I want to appreciate them they fly by at light speed.

Time flies when you're having fun, or when you realize how ungrateful you've been for the last three years.

I'm not a change kind of guy, either. When I was a kid I cried when we repainted my bedroom walls - it was for the best though, because they were neon green and practically glowed in the dark when you turned the lights off. But college? Bedroom walls got nothing on college.

Hank is going to Texas Tech, which isn't a huge move from Rock Bluff, Georgia. He says he wasn't smart enough to get into Rice, his dad's alma mater, which would explain the cheating-on-the-test example. I'm going to University of Washington to study engineering. Washington. The only thing I know about Washington is that it's cold and makes cheese.

Or maybe that's Wisconsin. Whatever.

Anyways, back to school. Seniors have an attitude, a kind of mantra - don't bother me, I'll be out of this place in eight months - and the teachers embrace it somewhat. So I'm sitting in Money Matters, a blowoff class I picked to fill an elective space, leaning back in my chair talking to Hank.

"Going anywhere for the break?"

"Colorado. We're going snowboarding, it's going to be awesome, man."

Hank is either naturally good at any sport ever invented or he totally sucks at them. Like, he can throw a football at fifty miles per hour but tried to kick a soccer ball, tripped, and broke his ankle. One of the extremes. I'm already anticipating epic GoPro pictures of his catching air on the jumps or selfies from a hospital bed, tagged #indestructible. With Hank you never know.

"I'm staying here. You might actually see snow this year."

"Yeah, that's one thing I'll enjoy in Colorado. But you'll be in Washington, you'll see lots of snow, huh?"

There it is - college, change, lingering like a cloud over our heads.

"Guess so. I'll have to buy winter coats, and you'll have to get flip-flops. Could you move anywhere further away?"

"Could've gone to Florida, then we'd be on opposite sides of the US. Weird, huh?"

Not even weird. Plain wrong.

The weeks pass, and we're studying our brains out for exams. Hank and Hallie, his sister, are over at my house, sipping hot chocolate under our fake Christmas tree, their textbooks speckled with tiny dots of light from the tree.

"What are the laws of thermodynamics again?"

"The hell if I know. I'm going to fail this exam!" Hank says cheerfully, popping a marshmallow in his mouth.

Hallie shoots a glare at her brother. It's hard to believe they're twins because they're about as different as could be: Hallie shies away from any sports like they contain some contagious disease and is the salutatorian of our class, whereas Hank could care less about class rank, aiming for a sports scholarship. Don't let that girl fool you though, she had some mad Halo skills.

"Energy can't be created or destroyed. Umm..." I attempt to remember any physics I have retained from the classroom. I took my exam yesterday and the information has hidden away somewhere in my brain.

Hallie shakes her head. "You guys are hopeless. What will you do in college?"

College and change, always sneaking back into conversation.

A few weeks later my mom asks when we should go dormitory shopping, which kind of freaks me out. Partly shopping with mom, because she will try to buy me Rainbow Sparkles and Unicorns shampoo because it's discounted in the kid's aisle, and partly because I'm practically buying a whole new room. Rooms are like places of recluse and shelter, somewhere I feel totally comfortable in. Can't I just move my room to Washington?

Not to mention the fact I'll be rooming with a total stranger. Is there some kind of vetting process, so I don't end up with a creepo? The only time I ever shared a room with someone was when I had a sleepover at my house in fifth grade, which turned out to be a total failure when Jimmy Picketts drank glowstick fluid. Don't ask me why, it's a long story.

I'm about to excuse myself when there's a ring at the doorbell and I hurry to open it, expecting UPS or something but see Hank standing on the doorstep instead. He has his varsity jacket on, only dragging my thoughts back to school.

"Hey, man." I say, wondering why he's here. Hank comes over to my house all the time, but never during dinner or anything like that. Despite how he appears, he has some manners.

"'Sup. Um, can I talk to you for a second?" He says, shifting from foot to foot.

Never heard that one before. "Sure." I turn back to the house and shout, "I'll be back in a few, it's Hank!" We start down the street towards school, hands in pockets.

"So, what's going on?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

"Well, I've been thinking about college."

You're not the only one. "What about it? You're not going to switch schools, are you?"

Hank shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. It's just - I'll miss Rock Bluff, and school, and you, of course. It just won't be the same."

"Got that right."

"This is going to sound dumb and childish, but I just want to stay here, you know? Playing football, hanging out around town, and my mom can cook better than the ramen I'll be feasting on."

"Change is inevitable, embrace it. My mom said something like that once."

Hank sets his jaw. "Yeah, I got that talk, too. But I'm really going to miss you and the gang. We've been bros since what, first grade?"

"You threw a football at my face and kicked me in the shins when I cried."

"Like I said, bros. So anyways, I kind of... made this. It's not like a scrapbook girly thing, although Hallie did help, just something to remember me by."

He pulls out a tiny notebook from the inside of his coat and hands it to me. The cover is plain black, titled MEMO in large font. I open to the first page and see a first grade class photo, with Hank circled in the back row and me in the middle. The caption reads, What kind of haircut is that? Doesn't do anything for your looks.

"Really feeling the love here."

"Keep reading." Hank urges.

Page two: A photo of me playing football. I have my hands stretched way high above my head and my knees are bent in the picture, like I'm doing some weird yoga form. Hank has written, I threw you the winning touchdown and you give me this? Remember we went to Nathan's house afterwards to have an end-of-season party and I jumped off of the diving board onto your head?

I do remember that, because Hank was no small fry as a child and he landed directly on top of my head, like he was aiming. Still, ice cream and football-shaped cake made everything better.

Page three: A photo of Hank and I on elementary school field day, with a punch card from that year for the events. Did he keep it all these years? I beat you in the softball throw and you were so mad!Then you won an entire cake at the cakewalk - not freaking fair, man!

Page four: Fourth grade science fair, when I measured what types of bridges could support the most weight. Hank's project was right next to mine, reading in a childish scrawl, "What Baseball Team Is The Bset?" With 'best' spelled wrong. I won grand prize - it was my first real engineering project as a kid, but this time college doesn't really come to mind as I read Hank's note, Everyone knows the Yankees are the best. Those judges were biased.

Page five: Hank flashing a thumbs-up from the seat of an offroader SUV, middle-school aged. Needed some pictures of me in here, too. Good looking dude. Underneath is a small note, from him to me, probably passed during school:

Mr. Fisher is so booooring lol

Lol? (That was me, the socially inept middle-schooler, until I acknowledged that a social life existed  in eight grade.)

Whatever. You doing anything tonight? Come to my place and we can play some Wii Sports!

Hank writes, Wii Sports, whee.

Page Six: Hank and I posed in front of Rock Bluff High, with Jess at my side. An era of new experiences and cuss words, welcome to high school! Hank comments underneath. We didn't even know what hit us.

That was true, high school sent me (and my grades) in a tailspin. But all in all, it was good. Is good. Not quite over yet.

Page Seven: Hank catching a football in midair, a perfect movie-star photo, lighting and all. This book is about me, remember? Gotta have some action shots. Compare this to your amazing form a few pages ago :)

Page Eight: Hank and I with our homecoming dates sophomore year - he has his arm around a girl named Lilly who dumped him the next day because he looked at Taylor Simms in English. Must have been a pretty intense look. I'm with Jess in the picture, of course.

That girl was a butt, you remember Lilly, right? And how she dumped a bucket of paint on my head in Tech Theater? Yeah, so do I. You're lucky you have Jess. Taped to the page is a paint chip in dark blue, the same color the paint attack paint was.

Page Nine: Hank's report card, his bona fide report card, from sophomore year. You can remember what a genius I was by this and feel bad because I'm living the high life with my genius buddies. Just kidding, that's Hallie's job. I also taped a stamp to this page in case you end up in the wilderness of Canada and need to send a letter. Just find the nearest USPS bear. The stamp has Fourth of July fireworks on it, and I remember the cookoff the football team had on that same day when a propane tank exploded under the head coach's car. Accidentally, of course.

The cookoff, right? Hank has an arrow pointed to the stamp and I grin.

Page Ten: A picture of Hank and I in about third grade and a Zubat Pokémon card. Remember when we were obsessed with these? The pic is from when we went camping and you thought you were supposed to leave the food on the ground because bears live in trees. Other way around, man.

Page Eleven: Back to high school, when we dressed up as Frankenstein and his monster for Halloween. This one was a hit with the kids, especially when you zapped me with that Taser. Not. Funny. At. All. To the side is a smear of green face paint shaped like a frowny face and a clipping from the newspaper, "Local Boy Tasered for Halloween Costume - Pending Investigation."

That was when the police came to my house in search of the culprit of who had Tasered a poor innocent high school student and I had gotten grounded. Thanks for nothing, Hank.

Page Twelve: Okay, this is the last page, so I'll have to make good use of it.

I know how you feel. Seniors pretend it's all cool but we know what's coming up next, and it's scary as hell. I feel it as much as you do, I just don't want to show it.

Honestly? I don't know what I'll do at college without you, man. We do dumb stuff together and have a great time wherever we go. Like I always say, we've been bros for forever. The first thing I do when I open my phone is pull up your number to text or call, no joke.

This sounds sentimental and sappy, and now you're going to think I'm a wimpy loser, that's a great memory.

What am I trying to say? Bros will stay bros. I want to call you every day and see you every break. I don't want distance to draw us apart. I may not always act like it, but you're my man, you're the coolest and most epic guy I know. I can't imagine school without you, walking up on the first day and getting scared every time - yeah, I was freaking out too!  The first year we won't compare schedules or goof off during lunch. We won't buy ice cream for the girls at the baseball games, or I guess I won't, because you've still got Jess.

I'm getting torn in two, half of me stuck here and half of me moving on to go to college and get a job and have a real life for the first time. It may seem dumb, but I would stay here and stay at Rock Bluff High for the rest of my life. To stay with you and Jess and Hallie and pretend like obligations don't exist.

I'm running out of room, so I'll make this quick. I'm going to miss you, and I actually can't think of a certain amount  to prove it. I dunno, I'll miss you the amount of calories in a Big Mac. Infinity. 

That sounds apathetic. I'm going to miss you every day. You've been part of me for so long and now you're being ripped away, and it hurts. So listen to me now, okay? You'd better call me every day or I will hunt you down in Ye Olde Almost Canada and drag you back to Rock Bluff and we'll go back to high school and live it all over again.

I'm so sorry I have to go, man. I tried to apply to Washington but they didn't take me.

Yeah, I applied to your college. Like I said, bros stay bros.

Two lines left, I got this. You're my best friend and I'll miss you every day of my life. Sappy, sure, but true. See you at Christmas, man. Stay awesome.

And what can you say to something like that?

"Thank you. As many times as the calories in a Big Mac, thank you, Hank."