Epilogue
Jace
The auditorium is packed. Every seat is filled with parents, grandparents, and siblings, all holding cameras and phones, waiting to capture the moment their kid walks across the stage and receives a piece of paper that says they survived high school.
I’m sitting in the fifth row of graduates, squeezed between some kid whose name I never bothered to learn and Marcus, the guy who shit his pants when I pushed him up against the lockers for talking to my girl.
He keeps looking at me now and then, biting his fingernails as if he’s waiting for me to lose my shit again if he does or says something wrong. Smart kid. He’s learning fast.
We’re all dressed in these ridiculous blue gowns that are too hot and too long, and the cap on my head keeps slipping forward because I refuse to use the stupid bobby pins they handed out.
The whole thing is surreal.
I'm graduating. Well, fuck me, that’s new.
Four months ago, I wasn’t sure I’d make it.
Hell, a year ago, I knew I wouldn’t. I was failing half my classes, skipping the other half, and spending more time in detention than actually learning anything.
I was the kid everyone expected to drop out. The one nobody gave a shit about.
But then Lola and Pete Bellamy came into my life. Suddenly, I had people who believed I could be more than I thought I could.
I scan the rows of graduates ahead of me, searching for Bells.
It takes me a minute because everyone looks the same in these stupid gowns, but then I spot her. She’s sitting three rows up. Her cap is sitting perfectly on her head; trust Bells to follow the rules and use the bobby pins, her dark hair spilling out from underneath it in soft waves.
Even in a shapeless blue gown, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
My girl.
As if she can sense me staring, she turns around. Her eyes lock onto mine instantly, and she smiles. That soft, private smile that’s just for me. The one that makes my chest tight and my cock hard, even in the middle of a fucking graduation ceremony.
I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes, but her smile widens.
The principal walks up to the podium, and everyone falls silent. He begins talking about achievements and the future, along with all the other clichés they’re supposed to say at graduations. I mostly tune it out, my eyes drifting over the crowd.
I spot Pete Bellamy in the fourth row on the left. He’s sitting alone, his posture a bit stiff on his left side, but he’s here. After everything he’s gone through, he’s here to watch his daughter graduate. When he looks over at Lola, he smiles, and when he catches my eyes, he nods.
That nod means more to me than any diploma ever could. He’s treated me the way a father should treat a son—better than any blood relative ever did for me.
I owe him everything.
The principal concludes his speech, and the valedictorian rises. It’s some kid named David Chen. Honestly, I thought it would be Sam—she gives off that nerdy, smart vibe with her color-coded notes and obsession with perfect grades. But whatever.
David approaches the podium, adjusts the microphone, and begins his speech about perseverance and community, which is actually pretty good.
The audience sits there listening, nodding along, hanging on every word.
I tune it out completely. My eyes drift back to Bells, watching how she’s sitting up straight, paying attention because that’s what good girls do.
People applaud when David’s finished and now it’s time for the main event.
“When I call your name, please come to the stage to receive your diploma,” the principal says.
They start with the A’s.
I watch as students step up one by one, shake hands with the principal and the vice principal, receive their diplomas, move their tassels from right to left, and walk off the stage as if on an assembly line of achievement.
It is endless. Boring as shit. But then I hear “Aubrey Baxter.”
The auditorium erupts in cheers. Aubrey makes her way up the stairs to the stage, her gown swishing around her ankles, and when she accepts her diploma, the crowd goes wild.
Noah, sitting a few rows behind me, cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “That’s my girl!” loud enough for everyone to hear. Loud enough that the principal shoots him a look.
People laugh, and Aubrey’s face turns red, but she’s grinning so wide as she moves her tassel and walks off the stage.
They keep going through the Bs, before it’s Bells’ turn.
“Lola Bellamy.”
My heart leaps, and I’m on my feet before I even realize it. I cup my hands around my mouth.
“Hell yeah, Bells!” I shout, and I don’t give a fuck that everyone can hear me. I whistle so loud that the principal’s head snaps in my direction, his face going red as he glares at me over his glasses.
“Sit down, Mr. Cooper,” he says, into the microphone.
Lola’s face turns bright red, but she’s smiling as she walks up the steps with that natural grace she has, shaking her head at me like she’s embarrassed, but I can see the happiness in her eyes.
I stay standing, clapping so hard my palms are sore. Screw the principal and his rules. I’ll cheer for my girl if I want to. She earned it. She’s worked her ass off for this, and I’m not sitting down for some uptight asshole who thinks he can tell me what to do.
Pete is also standing up, clapping with his right hand against his leg. The effort it takes him to stand is clear, but he’s doing it anyway because that’s his girl up there. Our girl.
Marcus sitting next to me is giving me a judgmental look.
I lean down, getting right in his space. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
His eyes widen and he practically shrinks back in his seat. “Nothing. I wasn’t—”
“That’s what I thought,” I say, my voice threatening. “Keep your eyes forward and your mouth shut, or we’re going to have a problem. Got it?”
He swallows hard and looks away quickly, his hands gripping the edges of his gown.
Lola takes her diploma, moves her tassel from right to left, and looks out at the crowd.
Her eyes find mine immediately, and for a second it’s just us.
Me and her and this moment. Everything else fades away—the noise, the people, the bullshit ceremony—and it’s her smile and the way she’s looking at me like I’m the only person in this entire auditorium.
Then she spots her dad and smiles before she walks off the stage.
They move onto the next name.
I sit back down, my heart still pounding hard in my chest, and I can sense people staring at me.
Parents turning in their seats, other graduates shooting me looks.
Let them stare. That’s my girl up there, and I’m going to make damn sure everyone knows how proud I am.
I don’t give a flying fuck what they think.
They continue through the B’s and into the C’s.
“Samantha Carter.”
I stand up again, clapping and whistling as Sam makes her way to the stage.
She’s grinning, her red hair bright as hell under the lights, practically glowing, and when she gets her diploma, Reece lets out a whoop from somewhere in the W section.
He cheers so loudly that the principal stops mid-handshake with her and glares at him.
But Reece doesn’t waver; he stays standing, clapping and whistling.
I guess even if we are pussy whipped, we’re still us. The guys who hang out together, the ones who couldn’t care less about what others think. We found what we were searching for, the one thing we needed most: our girls. And we’re not ashamed of it.
Marcus is staring at me again, his eyes flicking over. The stupid bastard can’t help himself, and when I glare at him, he turns his focus somewhere else real quick.
The teacher at the end of the row motions for us to get up and move to the side of the stage. I stand, and my cap slides forward again, nearly falling off. I shove it back with my hand. Fuck it. If it falls, it falls.
We shuffle forward, a line of blue gowns moving like cattle, at which point I hear it.
“Jace Cooper.”
The sound of my name over the speakers is jarring. For a second, I stand there, frozen, because hearing my name called for something good still feels strange. It’s like they’ve made a mistake.
Marcus shoves my shoulder. “Go, man. That’s you.”
I glare at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
I move forward, my legs heavier than they should be. People clap, and the principal waits at the center of the stage with that fake smile they all have.
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it. My palms are sweating, and I wipe them on my gown as I walk.
The principal extends his hand. I shake it, gripping a bit too tightly, and he hands me the diploma.
“Congratulations, Mr. Cooper,” he says, his voice dripping with that bullshit sincerity. “We’re proud of you.”
I want to laugh. This man threatened to expel me more times than I can count. Called me a troublemaker, a delinquent, told me I’d never amount to anything, and now he’s proud of me.
Fuck that. I didn’t do this for him. I did it for me. For Bells and Pete.
I take the diploma from his hand, the paper stiff and official in my grip, and move my tassel from right to left. The stupid thing swings in front of my face, and I push it back.
I look out at the crowd. I see Pete standing up, his phone in his right hand, trying to take a photo, because he believes in me.
I see Bells standing in the graduates’ section, clapping so hard her hands must hurt. Her smile is wide, filled with pride and love.
They both understand what this means to me. I now have a future where there was none before.
I walk off the stage, my heart still pounding, with the diploma held tightly in my hand.
The ceremony continues.
Noah gets his diploma and raises it over his head with both hands, grinning that cocky grin of his as if he just conquered the world. The crowd loves it, laughing and cheering.
Reece gets his with his usual calm confidence, walking across the stage and shaking hands with the principal, cool as ever.