I walk toward Evelyn’s desk, careful not to take long strides in my mini skirt. I’d hate to expose myself and have my lasting legacy involve a pube. Before starting my presentation, I say a prayer to the stain on the ceiling that looks like a piece of toast with Jesus on it: Bombs away. I know it’s not a prayer prayer, but I kinda wanna go out with a splash.

“Anytime you’re ready, Cham,” Evelyn says.

“I just have to swallow my vomit,” I say. People laugh and that makes me relax a little. “Okay,” I say, feeling my armpit sweat seep and spread out halo-style into my shirt. “After staying up all night and consuming enough Red Bull to fill up an SUV, my philosophy is this.” I look at Abigail and smile mischievously. “I don’t have a philosophy.”

It becomes very quiet in the room. Even the flies in the corner stop mating. Everyone’s eyes mirror confusion back at me. “I know that doesn’t bode too well for my grade on this project or my ability to go on Senior Volunteer Trip, but I don’t have a clue about what makes life worthwhile.” I look down at my combat boots, which give me both strength and blisters, depending on their mood. “Instead of making something up, like I tried to do for my college essay, I just want to finally own up to this in front of all of you fine people: I don’t know shit. My personal philosophy is a foreign language no one’s ever spoken yet.”

I walk over to Abigail’s desk and take a sip from her water bottle. “If I do know one thing,” I say, wiping my mouth and grinning apologetically at Brendan, “it’s that Camus truly sucks.” Evelyn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, but c’mon, guy. Do better. I can think of a million people who had a shittier life than you, but they still managed to find something meaningful.” My dad’s face comes to mind. “Some things happened to me this year,” I continue. “Like my dad was in the hospital, and some of you might remember a certain lunch where I whipped Tater Tots at a certain someone’s head.…”

Even Doug is laughing. I smile and indiscreetly hold my arms up so my pits will dry.

“The end of this year really sucked, but it made me realize I’ve kind of been sleepwalking through life. This whole year I was obsessed with prom and graduation and just getting out of here. I bullshitted assignments that were supposed to be meaningful and—C’mon, don’t look at me like that! I know you guys fudged your college essays.” I’m getting a lot of blank stares in return. Assholes. “Anyway, instead of bullshitting this project too, I want to tell you guys the truth. I don’t want to be asleep anymore. I want to find out what makes life worthwhile. Like the dude in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance kind of says, the real cycle you’re working on is the cycle called yourself.”