Marvin Jones-Tobin

A few sad cushions lie on the library floor – painful reminders of the comfy chairs that used to reside there.

At the end of a fatiguing Orientation on August 30th, all I could think of were the two soft couches and two large leather chairs I believed would be there to greet me in the Upper School library the next day. I couldn’t get the thought off my mind of the cold leather touching my bare skin.

That night, I went to bed early, which was strange. I had never been more ready for the first day of school. I anticipated starting my last year of high school by claiming my forever seat on the couch in the library. 

The next day, excitement filled my face and my thoughts raced as I approached the library.

But when I turned into the room, my eyes widened in shock.

The couches were gone. The soft chairs were gone. It was bare. Empty. 

To my left, a student was sitting on a sad couch cushion, which lay on the floor next to the table where my beloved chairs used to reside.

I looked back in anger, searching for librarian Renee Hall.

To my relief, she reassured me that everything will be all right. New couches will be in soon, she said.

But soon wasn’t fast enough.

Yes, I settled for the realization that the couches will be back later, and continued with my routine. But I’m saddened not to start senior year with my cheeks caressed by familiar couch cushions.