4.
Justin
I adjust the collar of my shirt, a nervous habit that’s become more pronounced today. Crystal hovers by the apartment door, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. We’ve been together nearly nonstop the last two weeks. Thankfully, when Theo introduced himself a couple days in, I got her name. And she’s been great through the mess of the investors and the final days of school. She’s a calming, steady force, and somehow just what I needed. Evidently, her roommate situation isn’t great, so she’s just as happy to hang at my place as anywhere else.
Now, it’s graduation day eve at Georgia Tech, and I’m practically giddy with anticipation of all that lies ahead. Last night, after a marathon sex session, I suggested Crystal join us when we move to San Francisco. She shocked me by saying she’d love to come. I’m not sure how I’m going to tell the guys, but it’s not like she’s going to live with us. She’ll find a job out there and a place to live.
“Will your dad and stepmom make it to dinner tonight? Or just your mom?” Crystal’s voice trembles slightly, betraying her anxiety.
Crystal is aware of my family dynamics. My mother is amazing, always showing love and support, while my father is a narcissist. In middle school, my mom left my dad and moved down to Denver to make a new life for herself. She took my brother and sister with her, but I opted to stay behind. Not long ago, she remarried a great guy. She’s happy.
On the other hand, my dad is the complete opposite. He’s a highly respected professor at Colorado State University who puts his students and work above everything else. It seems to me that his work, his students, his research, and even his golf game come before his own family. He’s now had two more failed marriages with former students and is currently on his fourth wife. I can understand why Crystal is apprehensive.
I shake my head. “No, they’re flying out first thing in the morning. Dad’s got graduation duties as chair of the political science department at Colorado State, but he’ll be here in time for graduation.” She nods, but I’m not sure if that information has made her feel better or worse. “Hey,” I say, stepping closer and cupping her cheek. “They’re going to love you. Just be yourself and don’t stress, okay?”
She offers a tentative smile, and I nod, hoping my confidence is contagious.
The drive to the restaurant is quiet, save for the hum of tires on asphalt and the evening traffic. When we arrive, my mother spots us first.
“Justin!” She opens her arms wide, and I step into her embrace, smelling the familiar scent of jasmine on her scarf. Her smile is broad, genuine, and I mirror it.
“Mom…” I greet her warmly, then turn to introduce Crystal. “This is Crystal Brown.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” my mom says, pulling Crystal into a hug. “I’m Gina Aldo-Capriotti.”
Crystal’s initial stiffness melts away in the warmth of my mother’s welcome. Beside her, Graham Hitchcock, my stepfather, extends his hand with a cordial grin he reserves for moments of true joy.
“Crystal, so glad to meet you,” he says.
She shakes his hand. “Likewise, Mr. Hitchcock.”
“Please, call me Graham.”
My brother, Brandon, pops over, his eighteen-year-old energy barely contained. “Hey, Justin. Hey, you must be Crystal.” He gives her a playful nudge, and I see her mouth twitch.
“Nice to meet you, Brandon.”
“Call me Bran. Everyone does.”
My sister, Patrice, ever the observant sixteen-year-old, hangs back slightly before approaching. Her gaze flits between Crystal and me. Then, as if making up her mind, she steps forward, offering a shy smile. “Remember, you picked Justin, and we’re a package deal,” she teases.
Crystal laughs, the sound light and airy. “Thanks, Patrice. I think I’m ready for it.”
We settle into our seats, laughter and conversation flowing easily around the table. Crystal’s smiles grow more frequent, her laughter more heartfelt. As I watch her with my family, embraced by their acceptance and cheer, a deep contentment settles within me. I’m taking a lot of risks right now, and everything is about to be totally new. But I’m excited that she’s coming with us to San Francisco, as that will be something that stays the same. We’ll already know each other when we get there. And hanging out with Crystal is just easy. She’s fun, but also steady, and I need more of that in my life, right?
The server appears nearby, ready to take our orders. Graham, with the authority of a seasoned lawyer, waves his hand grandly, setting the tone for the evening. “Order whatever you’d like, folks,” he announces with a generous smile. “Tonight’s on me.”
With those instructions, I order a ribeye, medium-rare, just how I like it, and Crystal asks for a petite filet mignon.
As we wait for our food, Graham dives into tales of his law firm’s latest cases in Denver. His words are a steady stream, punctuated by the occasional emphatic gesture. Meanwhile, Mom shares updates about her consulting company, her voice ringing with pride and ambition.
It’s Brandon who finally shifts gears, tossing a bombshell into the mix like a teenager dropping his backpack at the door. “Anyway, I’ve decided on CU for fall,” he says, eyes glinting with mischief.
There’s a beat of silence before Graham chuckles and shakes his head.
“Enzo’s going to love that,” I quip, referring to our dad. “Paying tuition when you could have gone to CSU for free.”
“Freedom has its price,” Brandon retorts, grinning.
Patrice rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed with our brotherly banter. “Lucky you,” she mutters. “At least you get to leave the house. I’m stuck being the last Capriotti kid at home.”
After the laughter settles, I choose the moment to drop my own news. “Speaking of leaving,” I start, “Crystal will be joining me in San Francisco.”
Surprise flickers across my family’s faces, quickly replaced by smiles and congratulatory cheers. Glasses clink and Crystal beams, swept up again in their warmth.
Gina leans forward to address Crystal directly. “Do you have a job lined up in San Francisco?”
“I’ve put my resume out to a few companies already,” Crystal replies coolly, tucking a stray lock of golden hair behind her ear.
“And what’s your degree in?” my mother follows up.
“Applied mathematics,” Crystal says. There’s a slight hitch in her voice, but nobody else seems to notice. It’s subtle, but it speaks volumes to me. She’s stepping away from her studies to be with me.
The table erupts into another round of cheers and well-wishes, the air buzzing with the excitement of what lies ahead.
“Here’s to new beginnings,” Graham toasts, lifting his glass high.
“New beginnings,” we echo, and as the glass touches my lips, I know this is more than a toast. It’s a promise of the future, one that Crystal and I are about to embark on together.
The next morning, the sun shines through the grand windows of McCamish Pavilion, casting long shadows across rows of seats that buzz with the gathering crowd. Crystal’s hand finds mine, her grip reassuring as we navigate the throngs of graduates and guests congregated for Georgia Tech’s commencement ceremony.
“Ready to meet my dad and Thea?” I ask, feeling her tension in the slight tremble of her fingers. She did great last night, but that doesn’t seem to have made her feel any more confident about today.
She gives me an apprehensive smile, nodding. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, but there’s a spark of determination in her eyes that tells me she’s braver than she lets on.
We find Enzo Capriotti, my father, and his wife, Thea Sheridan, seated practically as far as possible from where my mother and Graham will be, an ocean of unfamiliar faces between them. Dad’s expression is unreadable as he stands to greet us, his eyes flickering to Crystal before settling on me. Thea, ever the peacemaker, wears a warm smile that eases some of the tension.
“Congratulations, Justin,” Dad says, his voice lacking the enthusiasm one might expect.
“Thank you, Dad. This is Crystal.”
She extends her hand with practiced grace. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she says.
“Likewise,” Thea responds, her kindness genuine as she pulls Crystal into a light hug.
I look around, and suddenly, it’s time. “Looks like I need to line up.”
Crystal squeezes my hand, and Dad nods. “We’ll meet you following the ceremony.”
Thea invites Crystal to remain with them, and I leave her as Thea urges Dad to take notes on how they might improve the graduation ceremonies at his university.
I find my place in line, and we enter to “Pomp and Circumstance.”
We take our seats, and I exchange a quick glance with Theo, who sits beside Austin, Rhys, and Turner. But there’s no time for words as the chatter around us fades and the ceremony begins.
Midway through the event, the lights dim, and a slideshow appears on the screen, illuminating the pavilion with images of hard work and innovation. When our project appears, the funding we’ve secured highlighted, a ripple of applause and backslapping ensues. It’s surreal—our success projected for everyone to see, validating years of dedication.
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see my friends grinning broadly. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” I tell them, acknowledging the truth we all know. Our bond is as strong as the project we’ve built.
Amidst all the clapping and congratulations, I exhale, only then realizing I’ve been holding my breath. Today isn’t just about diplomas and accolades and family interactions; it’s about our future, ripe with possibility, and the friends who will be in my life forever.
As the ceremony draws to a close, I think of Crystal in the crowd. No matter where life takes us, we’re in it together now. I feel ready to face the challenges and triumphs.
With diplomas in hand, we stride across the stage to a crescendo of cheers. Flashbulbs pop and cameras click, capturing our grins. Then we’re herded for group photos, five guys bonded by late nights and relentless ambition and projects that complement one another perfectly.
“Justin!” I hear Crystal’s voice before I see her, and then she’s there, her arms flung around me. I spin her, and her laughter mingles with the applause still ringing in my ears.
“Congrats, genius,” she says, her eyes sparkling.
“Thanks so much for your support,” I reply, my heart swelling with gratitude.
Mom appears, camera in hand, and ushers us into position for yet another picture. “Big smiles, everyone!”
We comply, Crystal fitting into the group as if she’s always been part of it. After a few more snaps and poses, Mom pulls me aside, her expression softening.
“Justin, I really like Crystal,” she murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “But remember, life is going to change rapidly now. You’re young, and the path you’re on. It’s going to be demanding.”
I nod. She speaks from experience, from a place of love and perhaps a tinge of regret.
“Make sure you invest time in your relationship, too,” she continues. “Balancing everything won’t be easy.”
“I know. I will,” I promise, though the enormity of what lies ahead is just beginning to dawn on me.
Later, at our house, the graduation celebration unfolds. The backyard teems with guests, laughter floats through the air, and the tap of the keg hisses rhythmically as cup after cup is filled with frothy beer. Tables overflow with food, a feast fit for the hungry horde of celebrants.
Our families began the afternoon with us, but as the evening crept on and more of our friends arrived, they’ve headed back to their hotels.
“Here’s to new beginnings!” I raise my cup.
“New beginnings!” the crowd choruses back.
The night unfolds in a blur of congratulations, shared stories, and raucous toasts. I steal glances at Crystal, her presence a grounding force. Mom’s words echo in my mind; I need to make time for her and for us.
I weave through the clusters of people, each step taking me closer to Turner, who’s practically holding court near the keg. His charisma is magnetic, drawing in admirers like moths to a flame.
“Turner, you superstar!” a girl from our mechanics class giggles, fluttering her eyelashes as she hands him a Sharpie. “Can I have your autograph?”
“Only if you promise not to sell it on eBay,” he jokes, scrawling his name with a flourish across the back of her graduation program.
I chuckle. Turner always did know how to command an audience. “Seems like you’ve got quite the fan club,” I say, bumping his shoulder as I join the circle.
“Justin, my man,” he replies. “It’s all in good fun. Who knew being nerds would make us this popular? Why am I wasting my time with music?”
“Guess it comes with being brilliant,” I tease, and we share a laugh that’s more like a victory cry.
Eventually, the last guests trickle away, and Crystal and I slip quietly into the sanctuary of my room. The soft rustle of fabric against fabric fills the space as we crawl into bed.
“Any second thoughts about heading to San Francisco with me?” I ask, watching her face for any hint of hesitation.
“None,” Crystal murmurs, her eyes meeting mine. She nestles close, and I wrap my arms around her. Her breathing slows, and soon, she’s asleep.
And that settles it. Whatever we are, whatever we become, we’ll discover it together in San Francisco.