I wish I went to Schoolies.

Heartbreak High (2026) delivered a final season which absolutely tugged at my heartstrings, taking me back to simpler times—my final year of high school. Seeing Ayesha Madon as Amerie Wadia for the last time had me grinning, especially because she wasn’t blowing up her entire life this season. Despite the insane time jump, season three felt like a chaotic throwback to key Aussie high school moments.

The season begins with muck-up day at Hartley High, a chaotic end-of-year celebration that is disrupted by private school boys and their calculated prank to kidnap the head of Hartley’s school mascot—the Ibis. The show brought me back to my own muck-up day and the existential anxiety-inducing career expo. Amidst the studying, the year 12 students at Hartley High were seen to be attending parties and concerts, highlighting the entertaining experience of their final year (although I’m not sure if they ever did much studying).

I’ve seen some people say that they were disappointed with the season, and I’m afraid I have to agree. It’s pretty clear that the producers were leaning heavily into the show’s usual chaos, but the season felt rushed, and arguably incomplete—if not for its final scenes. The time jump is where most of that frustration sits. Heartbreak High began at a steady pace, only to compress its final chapter into eight episodes that feel like they’re constantly trying to catch up with themselves. This season felt like the series went through a behind-the-scenes rebrand, leaving the audience to fill in the gaps of what we never got to see.

That gap shows up in the plot too. What happened to all the tension brewing between Harper and Ant in season two? Why are we suddenly introduced to Amerie’s new private school boyfriend, without any context about how they met or the development of their relationship? The introduction of arguably pointless characters doesn’t help either, disrupting the established dynamics between the SLT group. Because how on earth are Darren, Spider and Zoe a trio now? Sure, maybe the audience is supposed to fill in the gaps, but it’s definitely a jarring disconnect with where season two left off.

This leads to the season’s greatest letdown, the relationship between Missy and Spider. I have rarely seen a pairing in Australian media that gained as much traction as these two, only to have their relationship dismantled before we even witnessed any progression. It almost feels like the writers saw the momentum behind the couple and chose to derail their relationship. In season two, Spider’s connection with Missy was a great portrayal of toxic masculinity beginning to unravel, which could have been something genuinely impactful, maybe even generational. Instead, we’re thrown into the deep end with Spider in a crop top and Missy who seems to despise him. Another total shock was the kiss between Missy and Malakai, utterly unexpected and completely devastating for Amerie and Spider to witness.

I would go as far as to say that some of our beloved characters felt diluted. Amerie, once chaotic and unpredictable, came across as tame—almost incomplete. The next disappointment was Cash’s wardrobe, a stark difference from his traditional Eshay tracksuit vibe in previous seasons. This season’s Cash came wearing crop tops and heaps of colour. I’m all for exploring your identity and embracing new choices, but his wardrobe refresh felt inauthentic, as if he was an entirely new character. But it was interesting to witness how he was actively attempting to leave that part of his life behind and to see his development. In my opinion, allowing Cash to explore his queer identity while sticking to his standard wardrobe would’ve been a heavy-hitting fictional character. Cash, being the only voice of reason this season, was surprising, sometimes slipping into group therapist mode, which is a huge difference from his character’s history of making bad decisions. Maybe he was portrayed this way to demonstrate his growth, but it felt a little out of place since the audience had missed out on such crucial development.

On the note of character assassination, turning Sasha potentially homicidal was beyond unexpected. Previously, Sasha had been the epitome of “the friend that’s too woke”, but this season turned her criminal. It was disappointing to see the main characters exclude and alienate Sasha, but for her to make such irrational decisions wasn’t really in line with her character, nor her personality. I wish they would have depicted an activist character without turning them into the harmful stereotype of the hysterical “woke” person.

Despite the season’s flaws, it still managed to capture something deeply authentic about the Aussie high school experience. Prank gone wrong, strange hookups and uncertainty of life after graduation—it might actually be one of the greatest portrayals of Year 12. I especially appreciated the exploration of Malakai’s trauma and the writer’s decision to not soften his experience with police brutality. It’s rare to see that unfold in Western media, with his narrative carefully crafted to focus on the overlooked realities of discrimination within our justice systems.

This ties into my favourite aspect of the show entirely. We are given a South Asian woman at the centre of an Australian series, without reducing her to her ethnic identity. As a South Asian woman myself, seeing Amerie exist as messy, expressive and unapologetic without her culture being exaggerated nor erased feels incredibly significant. Representation like Amerie is incredibly rare and insanely refreshing. South Asian characters depicted in media are usually used as comedic relief or given stereotypical characteristics. Amerie was none of that and it’s so important to let young South Asian girls know that their identity is not tokenistic. I love her, and I hope to see more chaotic women of colour in the future.

The season finale was wonderfully executed. It was nice to see the crew get together for their impromptu graduation scene and for the audience to have a brief insight into their life after graduation. I’ll admit, I did tear up a little at Woodsy’s final speech to the students and their memory box. Above all, Heartbreak High remains one of Australia’s most popular and successful shows, both locally and internationally. It establishes itself as the beginning of Australia’s rise in global media, capturing the hearts of many people across the globe.

I can’t help but to imagine that somewhere out there, there’s probably an American high school student watching the show with a quiet sense of envy, romanticising the authentic Aussie high school experience from behind the screen.