Chapter 11
Eleven
C ooper
I stare at the sea of black caps, paying more attention to them than the boring commencement speaker.
Going through the motions, we get to the part where we all throw our caps in the air, crimson tassels swinging and cheers erupting.
I do the same, putting on my smile like I always do. But inside? I’m a robot.
This has been four years in the making. I should be excited. I’ve done what was expected of me, and I’m proud of my degree, but celebrating feels forced.
I fasten my cap onto my head and follow the others as we leave the auditorium, Sybil next to me and Ethan on her other side, their hands entwined.
We’re graduating with our undergraduate business degrees.
My emphasis was in strategy, Ethan’s was management, and Sybil’s was public relations.
We make a great team, had most of our classes together, studied together, and even lived together.
Ethan and I are returning in the fall for graduate school. Sybil’s staying in Manhattan to start her career with Laurence International, and I can’t imagine what it will be like without her.
Missing her is going to kill me, but I can’t tell her just how much. Not having my best friend is one thing, but knowing Ethan is going to propose to her soon? That’s something else entirely. It’s the most bitter-sweet pill I’ve ever had to swallow.
Their plan is to get engaged at the end of the summer and get married two more summers after graduate school.
They’re going to tie the knot at the Nantucket house.
I can picture it all so clearly, and it’s like a train wreck I can’t stop, but one that only hurts me and makes everybody else happy, so why would I stop it?
Our trio makes our way through the hordes of students, congratulating friends and classmates on the way out the doors.
It’s too crowded, like the walls are closing in.
I do my best to ignore the claustrophobia and be the fun-loving guy everyone expects, smiling and laughing and even throwing out a few high-fives until we finally make it onto the front lawn where we’re instructed to meet our parents.
Sybil looks like she’s going to be sick. Her face is paler than normal, even her lips are void of color, and she’s staring at her feet with haunted eyes.
I cup her elbow and lean in. “Are you okay?”
“Everything is great.” She’s lying, but I know better than to press the issue. I study her, looking for cracks in her armor. My own feelings drift away. All I’m worried about is making sure Syb is okay.
“She’s great,” Ethan parrots. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, don’t we?” He kisses her on the cheek, and she nods numbly.
“Right…” I say, unease curdling in my gut.
This is our graduation—she should be thrilled, but she looks terrified.
Maybe this is about Ethan. She doesn’t want to have to do the long-distance thing at the end of the summer.
I don’t blame her for that, but we don’t have a choice about graduate school.
We have to have a Harvard MBA before we can eventually take over King Media.
Our lives have been planned out, no chance of changing them now.
“Everything is perfect,” Sybil says to me as we search the crowded lawn for our families. “I’ve got the Ivy League degree, the best boyfriend, awesome best friends, a great family, and I’m stepping into the career I’ve dreamed of. I’m fine, Cooper. Don’t read into things that aren’t there.”
Right. She’s fine. Sure.
I know her, and she’s definitely lying; she can’t even look me in the eye, and her voice is doing this wobbly thing it does sometimes when she’s trying to hide her emotions.
Maybe her perfect life is the problem. She’s followed all the plans that have been laid out for her since she was a child—plans she didn’t actually make for herself.
If anyone can relate to her, it’s me, but she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Whatever you say,” I deadpan.
“I just… I loved school. I’m going to miss it. That’s all.”
Ethan leans in, finally waking the fuck up that his girl is upset. “You’re okay in there, right?”
“I’m fine . Like I said, I’m sad about leaving Harvard. It was really special, wasn’t it? I will forever remember this time of our lives.”
“It’s not too late to apply to graduate school,” Ethan tries. We both have been encouraging Sybil to go for the MBA with us, but she’s been adamant it’s not something she wants to do. She’s ready to work.
Shaking her head, her perfect auburn curls bounce and shine in the sunlight. “Yes, it is. Deadline was weeks ago.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I reply. “There are ways to get what we want.”
As messed up as it is, that’s the truth of our status.
We’re the children of billionaires. We’ve got extensive connections and access to the kind of fortunes most people will only ever dream about.
Doors open for us that are locked for everyone else.
Sybil might be able to walk into the Harvard-MBA program without applying on time.
She shakes her head. “I don’t have interest in that.”
We’ve talked about this at length. We know how she feels.
She’s going to be at Laurence International’s foundation, doing nonprofit work.
Eventually, the plan is for her to become the president of the foundation, but it will take years of earning that spot before she can successfully call it hers.
Laurence is publicly traded, so unlike King Media, her parents can’t give her whatever job they want.
They’re beholden to the board and the investors.
Everyone agreed to give her this opportunity, but she must prove herself.
It’s unseasonably hot today, and the warmth is wrapping around me like a wet glove, especially with my suit and the graduation robe. I’m ready to get to Nantucket for a weekend. That pool is calling my name.
“It’s too hot for this shit,” I mutter. “When is our flight again?”
“Not until tomorrow morning,” Ethan answers. “We’ve got the graduation party tonight, remember?”
Yes, I do, but it’s not the kind of event I consider a party. Organized by our parents, this is solely an opportunity for them to parade us around. We’re grown-ass adults, but we’re still accessories—something to show off to their rich friends.
I run a hand through my wavy hair, trying to get it off my sticky forehead. “Thank God we get to leave tomorrow. I can’t wait for a long weekend with friends.”
They nod, and excitement sweeps through me.
Our best friends from Harvard have all been invited to join us at the Nantucket house.
I can picture it now, the real partying, the house on the bluff overlooking the Atlantic, the crystalline pool, and the fun we’re going to have together.
A true slice of heaven—a real celebration.
“I can’t believe I convinced my parents to sell the Hamptons place and build in Nantucket,” Sybil sighs wistfully, rubbing her hands together, the light returning to her eyes.
Sybil has been trying to get her parents to agree to a Nantucket house for years.
The Hamptons are her parents’ speed, but they finally agreed after realizing they didn’t spend enough time there.
Now that Ethan and Sybil have gotten so serious, it makes sense to have two houses on Nantucket instead of one.
The families will be more united than ever.
“There you are!” Mom’s happy voice cuts through the crowd as she waves us down. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“It’s a zoo out here,” Dad adds, sounding annoyed. “I forget how big these undergraduate ceremonies can be.”
Mom pulls us into a hug. “It was wonderful. Congratulations, kids.”
Everyone is here. Our mom and dad as well as Sybil’s parents and her two little brothers, Chandler and Hayes. We’re one big happy family, and someday Ethan and Sybil will get married, making that sentiment true.
“Line up,” Amelia Laurence directs. “We need pictures.”
She motions to the photographer my mom hired for this very moment. Mom is beautiful and sophisticated, with my brown wavy hair and Ethan’s bright blue eyes. Today they twinkle in the sunlight.
“Can you believe they’re graduating college?” Gregory adds, elbowing my mother playfully. “It was just yesterday they were starting preschool.”
God, parents can be so sappy. If I’m ever a parent, I’m not going to be so idiotic. I’ll be more like my father.
Scratch that. I don’t want to be like him.
I line up with Ethan and Sybil, and after those photos are snapped, the photographer has us take single shots.
“We need one of Ethan and Sybil, too,” my father instructs the photographer, sounding all business-like. “They’re together.”
Immediately, I step out of the frame. I’m used to this, but it still stings.
It’s like saltwater to a wound, the way the golden couple lights up for the camera without me.
It’s a good thing those two clearly love each other.
I don’t know what the future holds, but at least Sybil will be in it.
Even if it’s with my brother, it’s better than not having her at all.
They’ll build a life together, and I’ll build my life adjacent to theirs, eventually finding someone to love, even if it’s not perfect. Somehow, someway, it will work out. I have to believe that.
I study Sybil as the photographer does her thing.
I know I shouldn’t stare, but this is a great opportunity to do it without getting caught.
She’s stunning today, her auburn curls perfectly smooth and shiny, her green eyes bright as emeralds, her makeup light and pretty, and a smile that never leaves her face.
There’s still something behind those eyes—that same upset that’s been there all day. There’s more she’s keeping from us. I’m certain of it.