Senior ditch day to become senior ditch month

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Last Friday, the Westminster Upper School seemed emptier than usual. The parking garage was noticeably vacant, the normal music blaring on Spatio was gone, and the invisible weight of senioritis seemed to have disappeared overnight. With some Sherlock-worthy deduction skills, the Upper School collectively came to the realization that the seniors had decided to partake in a senior ditch day. After the initial shock for teachers and the other grades, everyone prepared to welcome the grade back the next week, complete with banners, balloons, and a live band. 

However, when 8:45 rolled around Monday morning, classrooms that would normally host seniors were empty, save for irritated teachers. The banners fell from their hangings, the balloons popped, and the band traveled home, dejected. 

Originally, administrators weren’t too concerned. 

“We figured that they had read the school calendar wrong and mistook Monday for one of our generous ‘rest days,’” said an anonymous administrator. “But once classes started on Tuesday, and the seniors were still nowhere to be found, we realized something deeper was going on.” 

School continued on as normal as everyone tried to ignore the gaping hole they felt in their hearts with the lack of the senior class. And yet, as the week went on, administrators felt that something needed to be done about the steady absences. They asked a group of highly trained investigative reporters from the Bi-Line to hunt down seniors to uncover much-needed answers. 

The group began to divide and conquer, driving throughout the Atlanta area to senior houses and banging on doors. 

However, seniors were difficult to find. 

“No one answered,” said an embarrassed reporter who preferred to keep his identity hidden. “I drove to fifty different houses all across the city and got nothing out of it except a costly gas bill and aching knuckles from all the knocking.”

Crestfallen and nursing bruised egos, a few reporters decided to stop by Starbucks for some much needed pick-me-ups. To their surprise, they recognized one of the elusive seniors they’d been trying to track. 

“How did you find me?” said senior Grace Hardymon between sips of her iced vanilla latte. “Look, what happens on senior skip day stays on senior skip day. I’ve already said too much.”

Moved by their unexpected encounter with Hardymon, the reporters decided to stop around random places in town, hoping for the chance to corner a senior. Some reported conversations with seniors who gave similar answers to Hardymon, while some reported sprinting across parking lots in fruitless chases. 

“I knew that she was part of the track team,” said a breathless reporter after running after senior Annie Sumardi in a Publix. “But I thought she just competed in the high jump. She should consider sprinting.” 

Even though many of the interactions resulted in nothing helpful for the investigation, one reporter was surprised by her luck in finding a high-ranking senior student government member browsing Barnes and Noble during what should have been her first period class.

“We decided that we were just fed up with the lack of activities we’ve had in this difficult time,” said senior co-chair Jenna Brown. “Quite frankly, we had all been expecting obvious displays of appreciation and affection for our grade. We’re now on an indefinite leave from school.”

The administration was shocked when the reporter unveiled Brown’s claim explaining the seniors’ lack of attendance, and how the school shouldn’t be expecting the grade back anytime soon.

“They should be grateful,” said a bitter, anonymous administrator. “We gave them pizza and we gave them a banner counting down their days left at Westminster. What more could they want?”

As it turns out, the seniors could want a lot more. After multiple failed negotiations with head of Upper School Cindy Trask, the class of 2021 declared that their spontaneous ditch day had now turned into a ditch month. They plan to not return to campus until the end of April. 

After the startling announcement, every administrator has been locked into their offices, no doubt trying to figure out their next step. All of them have declined to comment on the escalating situation. 

Throughout all the chaos, many distraught voices cut through the noise, all saying similar things.

“We just want our seniors back,” said one junior. “They’re our role models, and whatever the administration needs to do to get them back, they should do it immediately.”