Chapter Two
My orange graduation cap slips down my head as I round the stage. I do a clumsy job readjusting it for the posed photographer before offering an enthusiastic smile to the crowd, where my family is sitting somewhere I can’t locate with their cameras presumably also trained in my direction.
I follow the line of students ahead of me, weaving our way through the aisles, to sit back down in my folding chair in the front.
Peyton plops down in hers first. She’s wearing sneakers, jeans, and a light sweater vest beneath her gown, much comfier than this ridiculous dress I’m wearing, which is riding up in ways I can’t adjust right now.
“Loving the bold lip,” I say to Peyton. The bright orange suits her dark complexion and matches our gowns in a display of school spirit that she usually reviles.
She leans to whisper something in my ear.
I sit back so I can read her lips. “What was that?”
“My mom wasn’t so sure, but even she couldn’t discount how good this looks,” she repeats at normal volume.
Most of our classmates around us have also started chatting.
This is going to be a long ceremony. There are rows and rows and rows of students left to go.
“How much longer do you think this is going to take?”
The two of us have been favored by alphabetical order throughout our educational career.
Peyton Beckett and Iris Biagi.
“Such is our burden to bear as the bees,” I joke, pulling out the nickname we gave ourselves all the way back in kindergarten, perhaps invoking it for the last time. Now I’m really feeling sentimental. “Oh, look.” I point to the stage.
We both lean our heads together and smile as one of our classmates turns around and takes a selfie with the whole crowd.
“I hope we only have to do that once. Wait, actually…” Peyton pulls out her own phone from beneath her robe.
I panic for a second. “We’re not supposed to have our phones.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Learn to go with the flow, B,” Peyton says as we lean in together for our own photo. I glance around and realize several other people have their phones out as well. “What are they going to do? Take away our diplomas?”
“You didn’t know these are notoriously empty?” I flip open the school-engraved cardstock holder. “Until final grades and all that.”
Peyton shakes her head. “If they withhold your diploma, I’ll forge you a new one.”
I laugh. “Putting those graphic design skills to use from day one.”
“I’ll include it on my résumé.”
We sit silently for a few called names as the squeaking of folding chairs grows more and more distant while the rows behind us shuffle through, but they’re still only finishing up the C’s. With over five hundred students, this is going to take ages. It’s getting really warm in this gown.
“Are you still working on your board game?” Peyton asks me.
“Yeah, I finally got it all retooled, but I’m mourning what could have been. Who knew there were already so many games about ancient Rome?”
“Every nerd ever. What’d you end up switching it all to?”
“The Salem witch trials. It’s sort of Mafia-slash-Werewolf meets Carcassonne.”
She attempts to smooth out the wrinkles in her gown. “I’m not clear on how you’re blending those together. Then again, I’m a player, not a creator.”
“You sure you don’t want to submit something?”
“I play to relax, and trying to come up with my own board game sounds like the opposite of relaxing. Plus, I don’t have much spare time. You’re picking up shifts again this summer, right?”
“Of course.” Her family’s restaurant is the only part-time job I ever want to work.
Peyton and I turn forward and make silly faces at our friend Elizabeth Elford, the E’s to our B’s.
She does a cute little wave while keeping her arms down at her sides, nervously crossing the stage, her carefully curled hair sticking out from under the graduation cap and bouncing off the back of her gown.
“What graduation party should we get to first tonight?” I ask Peyton. There are tons of parties spread out throughout the summer, but a few are competing for attendance later today. “I didn’t really know Stephanie that well, but apparently, her family goes all out.”
Peyton points out a finger for emphasis. “It’s a question of do we want to start there or end up there.”
“Exactly.”
“Hmm. I don’t know. We can see what Elizabeth wants to do. It doesn’t really matter to me, because the best party is in a few weeks.” Peyton gestures to herself, as if I didn’t already know. “The best people, and the best food. No promises about music, though, since my brother wants to DJ.”
Her skepticism is understandable. Her brother is eight.
“I can’t wait. It’ll be my light at the end of the tunnel after submitting this board game and taking an unexpected round trip to Pennsylvania.”
Peyton narrows her eyes. “You’re visiting your sister?”
“I didn’t tell you? We’ve got to get Amelia’s car back here from Pennsylvania. My mom floated the idea of flying me out there so I can drive it back with her.”
My sister isn’t in attendance at my ceremony since she has her own finals next week. I insisted it wasn’t a big deal because these graduation things are long and boring, yet today, especially earlier, gathered with my parents and grandparents, it feels weird for Amelia to not be here too.
Like I was there for her graduation.
Sometimes it’s hard not to feel like every aspect of my life is just a follow-up act and that time spent with my sister is entirely at her mercy.
“That is a long trip.” Then Peyton does a silly little dance with her hands as she says in a singsong voice, “But then you’ll have the car.”
“A necessity,” I agree. My last summer before college, and finally the freedom to drive anywhere I need to go. I join in her dance. “Then I’ll have the car.”