"Congratulations, class of 2024, and remember you are the future of this generation. I can't believe these dumb sons of bitches are going to be let loose in society."

"PRINCIPAL SHEPHERD THE MICROPHONE IS STILL ON!" One of the high school faculty members yells at our principal.

"Huh? So it is. For those who were invited, see some of you at Kent Lastname's party tonight."

I grab my diploma and graduation cap to see if I can find my family in the crowd.

"There's our little high school graduate," I hear my Mom's voice from behind me.

This is one of those rare moments when they make me feel that they care for me, but it only lasts a couple of seconds.

"Come on, everyone, let's take a family photo," my Mom says as she attempts to get everyone in position.

"Wait, where's dad?" Chris asks.

"Heh, heh," I hear my Dad's trademark giggle. We look over to see my Dad posing with different families.

"Peter, what the hell are you doing?" My Mom asks, annoyed.

"What does it look like Lois? I'm making memories with good friends." my Dad says as he poses with another family. "All right Craig, I know grandma's dead, but I just know that she is here with us today. And I know she would be super proud of you, bud."

"Thanks Uncle Pet," my fellow classmate tells my Dad as they hug.

"Mom, can we please get on with this?" I asked, annoyed.

"All right, all right, everyone squeezes in tight. One, two, three."

"I can't believe my little girl has finally graduated." My Dad says as he squeezes me into a tight hug. "And now we can begin the interview process for the new tenant."

"Peter," my Mom whispers to him.

"What new tenant?" I ask, confused.

"Uh, Peter, Lois," Brian walks up to us with Mr. Herbert. "Mr. Herbet has agreed to pay a deposit and the first month's rent in full if he's allowed to bunk with Chris."

"I don't believe this," I tell my parents. "You're getting ready to rent my room, but I haven't even moved out of the house yet."

"Meg, now calm down. We haven't begun the interview process yet. Although Herbert might be a strong candidate." My Dad tells me. "No one was going to move in until you went to Rhode Island College."

"I DIDN'T GET IN AT RHODE ISLAND!" I yell at my Dad.

"What, how come you didn't tell us?" My Dad asks me, confused.

"Sheesh, how embarrassing. It is easy to get into that school just like it is for a black man to get into a Kardashian." I hear Stewie babble something.

"Dad, you read my rejection letter aloud last week when the mail came."

"Wow, first your boyfriend breaks up with you, and now you have been rejected into college."

"I DON'T HAVE A BOYFRINED!"

"Okay, loud, loud, loud. You don't have to yell, Meg."

"Boy, I am beginning to see why he dumped her," Chris whispers to Brian.

"I WAS-oh, forget it." Why should I even bother trying to explain myself?

"Come on, everyone, before we're late. We have reservations for Meg's graduation dinner," my Mom tells us.

'Psh, am I invited this time," I ask nonchalantly.

"Of course you're invited. How else will my friends on Facebook know what a close-knit family we are?" my Mom explains to me.

Several miserable hours later, we're finally back home. My Mom booked us dinner at my grandfather's country club; of course, my Dad couldn't pass up the chance to do something stupid. Somehow, he and Chris managed to destroy the country's club prized statue of one of the founders after he went on some tirade about how he was stronger than Dwayne Johnson and set out to prove so by trying to help the staff members move the statue to a new location. There were a lot of minorities, including myself, who were quite happy to see the statue being destroyed and seeing how we're in the year 2024, and minorities are still not allowed to be members of the country club, only employees. I guess there is some silver lining from this evening. As I walk up to my room, something catches my attention. I notice the "Roome 4 Rent" sign plastered in the hallway. Judging by the fact it is written in crayons, the backwards "e," miss spelling of the word "room," and the sloppy handwriting, you would think that Stewie made this, but I know my father's handwriting.

The vibration from my phone shakes me out of my thoughts. I see that I have a new Facebook message from Beth. I was wondering if I would hear from her again.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"No, what about you?"

"My cousin is having a graduation party tonight, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come?

"Sure, what time?"

"Around 8, do you need a ride?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Ok, I think I remember where you stay, but send me your address just in case I get lost."

"Ok."

"Got it. See you at 8."

I can't believe I have plans on a Friday night. Part of me feels uneasy, like this could be the potential for a great Law and Order SVU plot. The girl gets invited to a party by an old friend; girl gets drunk, is taken advantage of, and then attempts to get justice. Then the other part of me can't help but to feel excited again at the thought of me having plans on a Friday night. I wonder if I have anything to wear.