Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
RACHEL
GRADUATION DAY
I adjust my cap for what seems like the hundredth time. It’s still crooked, like a metaphor for my life right now. Still functioning, but clearly unstable.
Everyone around me is all smiles and future plans. Carol Gingheim is sitting in front of me; she just got a job at Vogue, and she’s bragging about how fabulous it is going to be. We get it, you’re fucking fabulous, now just shut up!
Danny, sitting behind me, is playing with this damn kazoo that I really just want to shove up his ass. But I’m afraid of the noises it will make if I do it, so I just sit there and cringe, acting like my ears aren’t bleeding.
Me?? I’m just trying to survive long enough to cross the stage without tripping on my gown or over my own two feet.
And then there’s Clara, sitting right next to me, giggling about the speech from our valedictorian. I turn to look at her, trying to gain some of the fun she’s having, and my eyes land on the person in the seat next to her.
Clark.
Of course, it had to be Clark. So close, yet so far.
I haven’t spoken to him since the kiss. The kiss that lit up my world and left me completely breathless.
The kiss that seemed the most natural thing in the world, but was the most betraying thing I’ve ever done to my best friend.
It made me question everything, including whether I could ever function as a normal human being ever again in his presence.
Spoiler alert, I can’t. Which is why I begged Clara to switch seats with him.
He looks maddeningly perfect in his cap and gown. Somehow, he managed to make our ridiculous graduation regalia look like a Calvin Klein ad. Meanwhile, I’m sure I look like a microwaved sausage in an overstuffed trash bag.
He’s smiling, talking animatedly to the person next to him.
Stacy, a busty blonde who will likely become his future sexretary, if she has anything to say about it.
My stomach flips involuntarily, which is rude because I just fed it pancakes and don’t want to vomit out the carbs I sincerely allowed myself to enjoy this morning.
But the thought of him and her just makes me want to vomit.
Clara’s looking around at everyone, waving and smiling, acting like the popular mayor she’s got goals of becoming. She’s got on her neon green sunglasses, making sure to keep up with her fashion appearance, and it’s making everyone laugh as she gets their attention.
God, I love her. And God, I hope she never finds out I kissed her brother…and he kissed me back.
The dean begins calling names, there’s clapping and cheering, and one guy gets down and does the worm across the stage, making everyone laugh even harder.
Then I hear his name. “Clark Monson, Bachelor of Arts in Political Science.”
My heart does a dramatic swan dive to my feet as he steps forward, all long legs and confidence. I hear the girls all around me gasp at him as he swaggers across the stage. Yes, swaggers because what else would you call it when the man has such confidence.
I watch him walk across the stage like it’s a slow-motion scene in a cheesy movie, only no one queued up Take My Breath Away and my face is probably melting, not from the sun, but from the look he swings my way, like he knows my eyes are on him.
God help me, I want him now more than ever, especially after that kiss.
And then, he shakes his head, like he’s clearing out the same thoughts I’m having, and walks up to the dean. He takes his diploma in one hand and shakes the dean’s hand with the other. And just like that, I’m jealous of the fucking dean getting to touch him.
As he walks away, our eyes meet again. Just for a second. But it’s enough to remind me of all we shared in just one single moment of time. That something happened, and neither of us had the balls to acknowledge it. And now, we’re on opposite ends of the lawn, pretending that we can just be friends.
Clark disappears into the sea of black robes again, and I barely have time to gather myself before I hear, “Rachel Montonez, Bachelor of Fine Arts in Design.”
Crap, I wasn’t prepared! I try my damnedest to get my legs to move.
It takes a few seconds, but they finally obey.
I walk across the stage with the grace of a newborn calf, trying to gather its footing.
My parents are out there somewhere, probably sobbing into their camcorder, watching me walk.
Clara’s whistling and howling like a sports dad at me.
The sun is baking my scalp under my cap, and I’m sure everyone can see that my armpits are dripping like a broken water faucet, even though my gown is black.
I smile anyway and act like I have my shit together, it’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re pretending to be an adult and have your shit together.
You smile, you wave, you shake hands.
You don’t act like you’re secretly in love with your best friend’s twin brother and hoping you could just run into his arms and claim him as your own as you leave the stage.
As I step off the stage, the diploma folder clutched tightly in my sweaty hands, I rejoin the crowd of new adults pretending to know what comes next. Okay, maybe some already know, but me, I’m still searching for what is to become of my life.
There’s only one thing I know for sure. I want, like really, really want, the person standing next to me, who unsuspectingly grabs and squeezes my hand. A gesture telling me he’s thinking the same thing I am, but knows it’s impossible to attain.