The day before I came back to Cornell this year I stopped by the high school to pick up a copy of my old A.P. Psychology textbook for Forrest (I already bought my own copy. Nerd alert). I’ve been back on several occasions since graduation, but every time the smell and atmosphere of Cedar Falls High School hits me in the gut and time travels back to journalism classes, the Alpha room, and speech team. It’s a powerful whack out of reality and into the past. The smell always stays the same.

I unconsciously start becoming more conscious of who is in the hallway with me (librarians are notoriously strict about the cellphone policy), I jump down the last three stairs like I always did, and peer around corners to make sure it’s okay that I’m out of class without a pass. Eventually I shake off the old feelings, talk on my cellphone in front of a librarian, and stride confidently through the halls. But for that first minute or so I’m just a shadow on the wall again.