Chapter 38
Claire
On Thursday afternoon, I dress in my cap and gown for the graduation ceremony. All teachers are required to wear theirs, along with the hood that matches the college they got their master’s from. Mine is blue and gold, the colors of Cal State Fullerton.
I look at myself in the mirror, hating my reflection. But what does it matter? All the students and faculty will be wearing the same horrible outfit.
Being totally honest, I hate graduation ceremonies.
I didn’t even walk in my own ceremony when I got my master’s in math, because I think they’re a total snooze-fest. So this is probably my least favorite night of the year.
The last two years, I relied on Ryan’s entertainment to keep me from going nuts.
He had a bingo card with all the cliché phrases said during the speeches, and Chase sat with us, too.
Some parts of the ceremony are entertaining—they have students sing and play music, and some of the speeches can be really touching—but otherwise, it’s pretty boring.
Especially the part when they call out all the names and hand out the diplomas.
I feel an extra bit of nerves, wondering how Ryan and I will interact. He said he can’t be my friend anymore, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be friendly, right? We can still be cordial with each other. Just…not as close.
I grab my cap and tassel and leave my bedroom, seeing Annie out of the corner of my eye on the couch in the living room.
Oh, Annie.
Ever since Saturday night, we’ve done this extra-awkward dance around each other, avoiding interactions. I give her a half-hearted wave, grab my keys, and leave.
As I drive, I realize, once again, how much longer the drive to work is from my new apartment. Well, it’s not that long. I should be grateful that I work so close to my parents’ house and I still only have about a twenty-minute commute to work. But compared to my old place, it’s just…annoying.
A lot of things have been annoying me lately.
Last weekend, my family got together with Zach’s family—no Annie, since my parents still don’t know she’s here—to put together our wedding favors.
Zach talked about his trip with Tyson, loudly bragging about spending the weekend by the pool.
I could hardly hide my irritation at the contrast, when I’ve been hard at work this whole time.
Where did the money even come from for him to go on vacation?
And shouldn’t I know the answer to that question since we’re about to get married?
Then, as we were compiling the personalized candles for each guest, my mom kept insisting I stick the labels on a certain way and told me I was doing it wrong. At a certain point, I just stood and left the room without a word. I couldn’t handle it anymore.
That’s when I realized something awful.
I didn’t miss Zach while he was on vacation.
Instead, I felt that same relief—the one I felt when I thought about breaking off the engagement.
But I do miss someone else. There is a giant Ryan-shaped void in the middle of my life.
And maybe that’s a problem.
Maybe it’s just Ryan and Annie getting in my head, both of them questioning my decisions and whether they’re really mine at all. Part of me feels like…
They might be right.
But it’s too late now. I can’t back out of the wedding, not when we’ve already sent out invitations, booked the venue and the vendors, and…no. It’s too late.
I park in the lot outside the football stadium, which is already almost full for the ceremony.
There’s a ton of traffic, with blue and yellow balloon arches everywhere.
I get out of my car and walk to the division office, where all the STEM professors gather before the ceremony.
I look around for Ryan. He’s not here yet, but that’s not unusual. He’s late for almost everything.
Except at that last division meeting. When he saved me a seat.
Everything about the last few months has been hitting differently now. How he pulled away after my engagement, trying to date other women. How he helped me move. Took care of me when I was sick. Even the small things—he brought me coffee, lent me his jacket, encouraged me to publish my book.
All the little things add up to one big thing: love.
I’m so stupid that I didn’t see it before. Well, I saw it. But I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t compute it. And I should have; I’m a mathematician. I should see the equation floating around: small gestures plus supportive friend minus ego equals love. But I didn’t.
I stand and watch the group of professors chatting, but I can’t bring myself to enter their conversation. I’m too lost in thought. Before I know it, it’s time to line up for commencement.
And Ryan still isn’t here.
A few rows over, I spot Chase with the English department. I run over to him quickly, waving as I approach. “Hey! Have you seen Ryan?”
I’m met with a blank stare and an arched brow. “Uh, no. Have you…talked to him lately?”
“Not since…” I swallow. “Not since Saturday.”
“Ah. Well. He’s gone.”
“Gone?” I rack my brain, remembering he mentioned a trip to Hawaii. “Did he start his vacation early?”
“It’s not vacation,” he says with a cold, clipped tone. “He’s moving there.”
“Oh.” The words take a minute to sink in.
Moving.
Ryan is gone.
He meant what he said—that we couldn’t be friends if I got married to Zach, and he’s following through.
But the finality of it feels like a dagger in my stomach.
Chase watches my reaction carefully. “He’s been in love with you for years. You know that, right?”
All I can do is nod.
“I tried to set him up with someone. I thought she was the perfect woman for him. She was a surfer too. Did you know that? But he couldn’t see past you.
And now he’s gone.” He clenches his jaw.
“I have to believe you have feelings for him too, and… Do you realize what you’ve done to him? It’s not cool, Claire.”
He turns his back to me, resuming his conversation with his colleagues, and I once again feel like I’ve been punched. His words hit right to my core, and I feel like such a terrible person.
Was I leading him on this whole time?
Is this all my fault?
The staff calls for us to get into our places, and I go find my math team.
I realize I’m still searching for Ryan, and I remind myself that he’s gone—he won’t be here anymore.
The tears stinging my eyes threaten to fall, but I tell myself there’s too many people around to break down. Not here, not now.
I make it through the procession without crying, find my seat between Liam and Janet, and watch as the ceremony begins.
The president of the college makes a speech, and then the superintendent of the district steps up to the podium.
There’s a musical performance from some students, and then it’s time for the student speeches.
The first is pretty funny, actually. He’s the student body president, and he cracks a few jokes about the awful Wi-Fi at school teaching them patience and the broken air conditioning imbuing them with perseverance despite toilsome circumstances.
The next speech is an “inspirational” one—the kind that makes us professors squirm because the student thinks they know everything, but they’ve only just graduated college and still have so much to learn about life.
The thing about getting older is that you realize you actually know nothing.
The third speaker, the one nominated by the graduating class, looks familiar to me. “Oh!” I exclaim softly to no one in particular. “She was one of my students my first semester here.”
Janet hears and grins at me. “That’s exciting.”
It actually is. Most of my classes are entry-level algebra and a few calculus, so I don’t usually know the graduating seniors. I can’t remember any details about her though, so I look down at the program and read her name: Anastasia Tate.
Anastasia.
I’m hit with a flood of memories from my first semester, and now I’m anxious to see where she landed after my class. She didn’t finish my course—she dropped after Ryan helped me encourage her to switch her major to something she loved.
“Hello, everyone,” Anastasia says, drawing me away from my memories. “I’m so excited to be graduating today. This is the first day of the rest of our lives!”
Man, I wish Ryan were here with his bingo cards. That’s one of the phrases from last year.
“We’ve worked so hard,” she continues, “pushed through all the obstacles, and here we are.”
There’s another one: “pushed through all the obstacles.”
“Some of us are first generation college students. Others are following in the paths their parents forged. And some, like me, have a different story.
“My first semester here, I was in College Algebra, hoping I’d be a business major, just like my mom and dad. I started out with an incredible instructor, who tried her absolute best to help me out. I attended every one of her office hours, and she was so patient with me. But my heart wasn’t in it.”
Oh. That’s me.
Her speech is about ME.
“And during one particularly difficult session, I set down my pencil and started to cry. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her everything. That I hated math, and I hated business, and I didn’t want to do any of this anymore.
She was so sweet, listening to all my concerns but not judging.
The next time I came to see her, she had advice for me.
” Anastasia pauses for dramatic effect. “She said, ‘Don’t do this anymore. Follow your own path.’”
Wow. She makes me sound really good. What she doesn’t know is what happened between those two meetings. The way I asked Ryan for his advice, and he helped me see her point of view. And how I readjusted my view of being forced into something you hate.
“So I did,” Anastasia says. “I dropped the class, changed my major, and told my parents I’d be studying fashion design. Instead of being disappointed, they were happy for me. Because they wanted me to be happy.”
A cheer comes from the audience, followed by, “WE LOVE YOU STASI!”
She grins and points at the audience. “Love you, too, Mama!” She looks down at her notes, then up at the audience.
“My fellow graduates, all I can say is that I’ve never been happier following my own path.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned here at college, it’s not how to factor or solve a quadratic equation or graph a polynomial function—sorry, Professor Beaumont. ”
My fellow professors all look over at me, and I feel my cheeks flush.
“But I’ve learned that making other people happy isn’t going to make you happy. I will be eternally grateful for that lesson, and that’s what I want to share with you all today.” She raises her fists and finishes her speech. “Congratulations everyone! We did it!”
The audience explodes in cheers, and Janet pats me on the leg as I clap. The president returns to the stage to announce the names, and normally this is when I’d start chatting with the people next to me—with Ryan. But instead, I’m silent, because my mind is whirring.
I told Anastasia to follow her own path. But I said it because Ryan encouraged me to say it, and he was right. She’s happier for it, and her family is happier for it, too.
Now Ryan is gone.
And I’m following the path set for me by my parents.
I love teaching math, so I’m not upset about that. I’m grateful I chose to follow that path.
But do I love Zach?
Every beat of my heart pounds the word, “No, no, no.”
I can’t do this anymore.