Welcome to Gaia! ::

Pomp and Circumstance rang throughout the auditorium. Though loud enough to hear even out in the hallways, none of it seemed to reach Elara’s ears. It just slipped on by as though she had donned earmuffs.

This auditorium looked exactly like the others. It had slight differences though –the stripes of school colors were mixed with the changeable class color stripes, the school motto was plastered only once in the whole room instead of multiple times, and the picture of the first class to ever graduate here adorning each of the four walls. This auditorium, like all the others, had a specific purpose. It was the graduation hall. Every year, after being dusted and decorated by a senior committee, the graduating class paraded down the aisle, said their speeches, received their diplomas, and walked back up the aisle, somehow changed for life.

This wasn’t the first graduation Elara had attended where she got to sit in the reserved family section. This was, however, the first time she was fully aware of what was going on. Last time, she had slept through most of it. However, she’d had an excuse. Born in April, she’d only been about two months old at the time of her mother’s graduation. She didn’t remember any of it, even the parts she’d been awake for.

She did, however, know how pretty here mother had been. Elara had a picture of her in her cap and gown, clutching her diploma in one hand, the same arm wrapped around a small boy; her other arm cradled a baby girl.

Halfway down the side of the auditorium, Elara paused. She was keeping to the shadowed areas of the pillars, crepping down to her seat while staying out of sight. Watching 273 teenaged adults walk one by one down the aisle was not her idea of fun (no wonder she’d fallen asleep before!). Therefore, she had a plan. Galcing around to make sure no one was watching, she gestured towards the back, beckoning a deeper shadow then the one she was hiding in forward.

The shadow figure moved toward her. It was moiving in ridiculously slow motion, whipping around pillars and waving interlocked arms as though it were James Bond. Rolling her eyes (a tollarence for a flair for the dramatic had never been an attribute of hers), Elara gestured furiously at it to hurry up. When its pace didn’t quicken, Elara groaned inwardly and turned back to the graduation. The procession was almost over. Her brother was in her seat.

Something grabbed her from behind, placing hand hands over her mouth, stifling a scream that came out as a loud squeak. Luckily, the repetative music drowned it out.

“Gotcha!” giggled a voice in a loud whisper. It was female, and one she knew as well as her own.

“Lex!” she moaned, turning around sharply. “We’re supposed to be quiet!”

Alexela Harris, a.k.a. Lex, just giggled again, hazel eyes flashing wickedly in the dark shadows, then slid her thumb and pointer finger across her lips and though pulling a zipper. Elara glared at her best friend, then grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the front of the auditorium.

Elara hesitated at the edge of the aisle. How on earth would they get past all these people? Glancing at Lex –after all, she was the brains of what she called “Operation Aisle Skipper”– she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Lex leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Just do exactly as do. Motion for motion.” Not giving her time to argue or ask questions, she took off across the front row. Seeing no other choice, Elara obeyed her orders.

Halfway across, she saw what Lex had done. A graduate could reserve as many seats as they thought family members would come. Nearly the entire first row was comprised of Alexela’s numerous relatives. She must have gotten some arrangement with her graduating cousin to seat them this way. For not the first time in their eight years of friendship, Elara was impressed with the skills and planning of her best friend. She always seemed to underestimate her.

Arriving at the opposite end of the row, the girls found two empty seats awaiting them. Once again Alexela pulled through. They had the best view in the hall, one that gave them a clear view of the podium and speaker without blocking the class seated behind it.

The last senior climbed the stairs and took his place with his classmates. As the people gathered their settled in their own seats, Elara prepared to be bored. The speeches here were not exactly of the fast-paced style she preferred. Usually they were long-winded and dull, as you couldn’t even get into this school, let alone graduate, if you were not an intelligent person and loved to use long words that half the population didn’t know –or even care– about.

Sure enough, not even half-way through the president’s welcome she had heard more complicated words then she’d hoped to have heard in her whole life. What do they teach in this high school? she wondered, dazedly, only half-listening. They don’t think those words are actually used in everyday conversation, do they? Bored as she was, she managed to shake herself from her reverie to listen when her brother stepped up to the podium.

“Hello, and thank you again for coming here tonight,” he began. Elara breathed a sigh of relief. Her brother, at least, didn’t believe in boring people out of their minds with excess syllables and redundancies. “As it says in the program, my name is Kevin Sipi, and I am this year's valedictorian.”

Elara put on her best attentative face and tried to look supportive. Kevin was terrible at public speaking, yet insisted on doing so anyway. She didn’t understand why he wanted to go into the performing arts when he hated it so badly, but that was Kevin for you. He wouldn’t let her help him write his speech (after all, it would hurt his pride to have a kid five years younger do something like that for him, because he was supposed to be the one at the top of his class, not her), so much of what he wrote was thanks to all of his teachers, his family, his friends, and all the other people in his life who had helped him get so far.

Elara hadn’t expected to be mentioned beyond that. Just because they got along better than most people didn’t mean he liked her or anything. So when she heard her name passed from his lips again, her supportive look turned to one of confusion.

“I think I’ve learned my greatest lesson from my sister, Elara. They say a good friendship is the best thing you can have in this life. I look at my little sister and her friends and I know it’s true. When you and I think back on our high school, middle school, and elementary school experiences, the ones that will stand out the most won’t be that great lesson on commas or the philosophy behind evolution. They will be the moments spent with our friends. I know I will take this lesson with me wherever I may go from here. I hope you will too. Thank you.”

Elara clapped hard, surprised and touched by her brother’s eloquent words. He’d learned a lesson from her? This was one of those things you had to hear firsthand. Lex nudged her and muttered, “Aw! Well, ain’t that sweet!” Elara just stuck her tongue out at her. Let her mock, she thought. She had just be publically praised by someone whose opinion mattered.