Chapter Seventy-Seven
Cade
I take my place at the podium and force myself to look at the faces before me, their expressions courteously silent and patiently waiting. I always thought I would relish standing above them, holding their lives in the palm of my hand. But now, as I stare at those I spent the last four years with, I realize the dynamic is gone. And these people are just strangers.
I don’t even know the names of half the graduates. And none of them have even really fucked with me since I took a baseball bat to Connor during sophomore year. I think back to the mumbling kid at Briarcreek, the one who shot the quarterback at his school. I remember thinking how paltry it was. He condemned his soul, and he only took out one person? Why not all of them?
But now I see why.
What an overachiever I am.
I stifle a laugh and quickly clear my throat, remembering I’m no longer a ghost, but a very real entity in the spotlight. It’s just… none of this feels real. I feel soberingly bright, like I haven’t since before my father died. It’s a strange kind of disconnect. I’ve always been intrinsically linked with Hillcrest, but now it feels like a bad dream that I’ve just woken up from,
“Good afternoon,” I speak into the microphone.
I even sound different. Not like me. Who am I again? Oh, right. I’m the grim reaper. No. I’m just Cade. Like Sky said. That feels better. More accurate. Why didn’t it feel like this when she said it?
I realize I’m losing my mind, but I can’t chase it. Or am I finding it? What’s real? Oh, yeah. Dearly departed, we are gathered here today.. No, wrong words, right place. I snort.
Jesus, I’m unraveling. I grit my teeth and force myself to get it together, focusing on the button in my hand.
“Graduation is a monumental moment—” I start, but then the words halt in my throat.
Ten rows back, on the right and five seats from the end. There’s an angel.
The mic whines at my sudden silence, a high pitch sound that causes me to flinch.
“Graduation is a monumental moment,” I start again, my mouth drier than it was before. “A moment I’ve been waiting for since my sophomore year.”
Why is she here?
“I know that most of you are excited to celebrate the end of your time here, but before we move on, I ask that you use this moment to reflect.”
She knows, and yet she’s here.
“Consider not the lessons in the classroom, but the lessons you taught each other—often when you thought no one was watching. ”
Her eyes sear into mine, something painful and pleading. But I struggle to look anywhere else.
“You shaped one another more than the hallowed halls of Hillcrest ever could.”
Fuck, she’s beautiful. Even now, with tears coating her lashes.
“Because I can wholeheartedly say that you all have played a critical role in shaping me, sharpening me, into what stands before you today.”
A monster.
I’m gripping the button too tightly, and I have to readjust so as to not slip up and trigger it too soon. And it is all too soon. I want more time with her. I want to know what she looks like outside of this place. What would I look like outside of this place? Could we be happy? Does she want babies? I want to put a baby inside her. She would look so pretty…
“And with that in mind, remember that you deserve everything that’s coming to you.”
Tears prick my eyes as I suddenly realize this speech is pointless. Why am I speaking to them? They don’t mean anything to me anymore. It’s her that means everything. What I really want to say is, I love you— directly to her— I love you. I’m sorry for scaring you, angel. I’m not going to press it.
“You know what?” I change course just as someone raises their voice in the back.
I squint and see a woman speaking shrilly into a cell phone, a worried frown on her lips as she gapes around. Slowly, a prickly sort of heat wraps its way around my neck. Bobby. She’s looking for Bobby.
But the earth is cold around his body and the heat on my neck is the wire I strangled him with. I’ve forgotten what’s really put me up here, and the sickness seeps back into my stomach, grounding me, reminding me; I don’t have a choice. And I don’t deserve Sky.
The woman—Bobby’s mother—sobs, and I want to sob with her.
“Sorry,” I clear my throat and force myself to look away, “Where was I?” I swallow roughly, remembering my place. “Right. What’s next will only be scary if you don’t see the path that led you here.”
I continue with my meaningless words, reciting them mindlessly and not really hearing them. They are no more than a long ago omen now, lacking menace and conviction. I just want to be done, and can’t be more relieved as my spiel comes to an end.
“And now, as we move on from this life and into the next, I only have one last thing to say.” I gear up to flex my thumb, bracing myself for the explosions. “You reap what you sow,” I deliver my final line, and find my angel’s eyes.
I’ll meet you at the graveyard.
And then I press the button.