“I think you’re having a panic attack,” my mom finally managed to say. “Try to take deep breaths. In for four, out for four…”

As my dad stared at me helplessly the whole time, his complexion went from olive to straight-up puke green. Even in the moment, with my body and my adrenaline all out of whack, I remember feeling weak. I remember thinking they’d been through far worse than me, and that he was probably inwardly cringing at my display of anxiety. But part of me was also relieved. This, I wanted to tell them, is what four years of unrelenting pressure does to a person. Overscheduled, overachiever, overextended. Over. It took me at least ten full minutes to calm down, and then I quietly cried into my pillow and thought about Andrew and how he would never screw up such an important opportunity. And then I announced I was going on a walk. By myself. A first since the start of quarantine.

As expected, seeing Silicon Valley from this vantage point is just what I needed after hitting rock bottom. It’s a good reminder that even though there’s so much sadness and disappointment in the world, there is still so much beauty. I close my eyes and decide to take a few minutes to meditate on that thought. Maybe when I open them, I’ll stop feeling the debilitating shame of destroying my future.

“Parisa?”

A girl’s voice brings me out of my fugue state. I open my eyes and turn around to find Lizzy Pearson standing a few feet away.

“Hey,” she says. “I’ve never seen you up here.”

“Hey,” I say back. “Yeah, I haven’t really left my house much lately.”

Normally, I’d expect to feel nervous around Lizzy, but I think all the days we’ve spent away from our high school have narrowed the popularity gap. Plus, after the fallout from her party, Lizzy’s stock has plummeted.

“I’ve noticed. I haven’t really left mine much either, except to come up here. The view is so pretty, and I like that it reminds me that I’m insignificant.”

“You do?”

Lizzy nods, then pulls her sunglasses down from her head and places them over her eyes.

“Yeah. It’s easy to get super caught up in your own life and problems, you know? I come up here and I remember that there’s a whole big world with other people and other problems and I’m just a morsel. A crumb in a cupcake.”

“I know what you mean,” I say, but I don’t like comparing myself to a morsel. The thought that my life counts for so little just makes me feel more anxious.