Too Late to Kneel in the Mud

Summary

On the morning of our commencement photos, my boyfriend, my best friend, and the two boys I had grown up with since kindergarten all shaved their heads bald.

Or so they told me.

"Look at us, Lyra! All four of us did it," Bree laughed, running a manicured hand over her smooth, hairless crown on the central lawn of the quad. "College is supposed to end with something unhinged. You’re the only one left holding out."

Around us, the campus was buzzing with black robes, fluttering silk sashes, and parents clutching bouquets of hydrangeas.