Chapter 15
GRADUATION DAY
Graduating high school feels a little trivial considering the very real danger we’re facing right now.
Let alone attending the completely unnecessary ceremony.
But neither my parents, nor Jasper, would let me run off to try and recruit the rogues to our cause and miss mine.
So here I am sitting in the second row of my graduating class, on a foldout chair, in the middle of a football field, rubbing my sweaty palms on the maroon faux-satin gown draping over my knees, and tapping my foot incessantly.
On the specially erected stage in front of me, our principal, Mr. Berk, is giving some speech about taking the life lessons we learned at school out into the real world, but I zoned out a couple of pages ago.
The only life lessons I learned here were how to sleep through biology and how to avoid Mrs. Truman, the librarian, when my textbooks were overdue.
My life lessons have all been learned out in the real world, the wolf world.
My human buddy Peter is sitting in the row in front of me, a few seats to the right. He turns and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and I make a face like I’m so bored I’m asleep and drooling. Becky, who’s sitting next to him, elbows him in the ribs and he turns back around.
Craning my neck, I turn to where our families and teachers are sitting behind us.
I catch a glimpse of Mom and Dad, Dad already red in the eyes, barely holding it together, and Mom sticking her tongue out at me, then shooing me with her hand, telling me to pay attention.
Next to them, Jasper is sitting up straight.
He looks stupidly handsome in a black suit jacket and crisp black tee.
I definitely won the hot townie boyfriend competition. He smiles at me and I smile back.
“You look cute in a cap and gown,” he says via mind-link.
“Shut up.”
Heat rises in my cheeks as I return my attention to Mr. Berk, who has finally finished his hours-long speech.
The time comes for us to traipse single file onto the stage to collect our diplomas.
“Maximilian Remus,” my English teacher, Miss Davis, says into the microphone when it’s my turn.
I make my way up the stairs, careful not to trip on the hem of this too-long getup—falling in front of my entire class would be the perfect end to my high school career—and accept my certificate while shaking Mr. Berk’s hand.
From the crowd I hear my mom whooping and a burst of applause.
I look out and see Mom, Dad, and Jasper all standing, clapping their hands off.
Embarrassment burns in my chest, no one else’s families have stood and bellowed quite as loud.
But I also smile, because even I can admit that those three are pretty cute.
Afterward, we head back to the house, Mom and Dad in one car, me and Jasper in his . . . or at least that’s where I think we’re going until we pull into the parking lot of the Stony Point Pancake Factory.
“What are we doing here?” I say, staring out at the strip mall and suddenly recognizing a host of familiar faces gathered under the restaurant’s sign. “And what are they doing here?”
Katie steps forward and waves. Behind her are Todd and Simon, as well as Aisha and Troy.
“Surprise,” Jasper says, grinning from the driver’s seat. “Your mom picked the restaurant.”
“Of course she did.” She knows I’ll eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“Congratulations, Max!” Katie says, running over and wrapping me in a best-friend hug. “How does it feel to be an adult?”
I stare at the crowd of smiling faces and scrunch a hand into my curls. “Confusing,” I say. “What’s everyone doing here?”
“Duh,” she says. “It’s your graduation party.”
“Everyone came here for me?”
I’m touched.
“It was Jasper’s idea,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Oh and don’t worry about missing my party next week,” she goes on, swinging her shoulders. “I know you have to, like, go save the world or whatever.”
“I’m sorry I’ll miss it. But we can FaceTime.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She winks at me. “Come on, my mom’s inside getting the table.”
Everyone greets me with a warm hug—except the bro twins, who insist on doing those weirdly complicated handshakes that still always leave me puzzled—and we head inside.
“There he is!” Katie’s mom says when she spots me.
She approaches with her arms open wide. Her blond hair is piled on top of her head with a few curls twisting down the sides, looking like she’s about to enter a toddler’s beauty pageant, and she’s wearing her best leopard-print blouse. “My son from another gun!”
She wraps me in a too-tight hug, and I breathe in her sweet candy-scented perfume.
“You’re all grown up, Maxie,” she says, not letting me escape her clutches that easily. Then calling across the restaurant to my mom, she bellows, “When did they get so big?”
Mom shrugs and shakes her head. Between my mom and Katie’s, Tanya has always been the brasher of the two, but we love her for it.
When I’m finally released from Tanya’s cushiony embrace, we all sit down to eat.
While we peruse the menu—not that I need to, I know I’m ordering the blueberry pancakes with an extra side of crispy bacon—I notice Jasper glancing at Aisha across the table and realize they haven’t said anything to each other since we arrived.
With my menu covering my face I lean closer to Jasper.
“Why don’t you speak to her?” I suggest. “Maybe apologize?”
“What’s the omelet like here?” Jasper asks, ignoring me.
To my surprise, Aisha responds. “Can you tell it’s his first time at a Pancake Factory?”
“I’ll just have eggs,” Jasper says, pushing his seat back. “Excuse me.”
He heads to the bathroom, and I smile apologetically at Aisha while Troy puts an arm around the back of her chair.
She lifts her brows like she’s not surprised.
But I don’t want this weird energy at my graduation party, and I don’t want to leave knowing things aren’t okay with all my favorite people. So I follow Jasp.
As the door swings shut behind me, I find Jasper leaning on the sink in the washroom, water running from the tap.
“Hey,” I say. “That was sort of rude. What’s up?”
He stares at me in the mirror, takes one big breath and shuts off the tap.
“What is it?” I move to him and rub his tensed back.
“I know it’s not fair to say this to you after I told you to go,” he starts, “but I can’t help feeling like everyone I know is leaving. First Aisha, then Dad, now you.”
“It’s not like I’m leaving forever,” I say, feeling weirdly queasy. “I’m just going to speak with the rogues then I’ll be back.”
He presses his lips together and scrunches his brow. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
“Probably because you’re taking on your dad’s responsibility, huh?”
“There’s that.”
“I can’t help with that,” I say. “I’m sorry. But I can promise, I’ll never go so far that we can’t always connect. Remember that mind-link we worked so hard to achieve? This is what it’s for, so that no matter how far apart we are in space, we can always find each other.”
He looks at me with a sort of childlike pleading. And my heart sinks remembering what Mitsuha told me. Have I just lied to Jasper? Will some dramatic turn of events mean I have to leave him behind for good?
“You’re not losing me,” I say, swallowing my preemptive guilt. “I worked too hard to get you.”
He laughs but it’s tinged with bitterness.
“There’s someone else out there who I know will stick with you no matter what,” I say, bringing things back to the Aisha situation. “And you were just sort of rude to her.”
“But she’s not staying.”
“Only because she feels like she doesn’t have a place here.”
Jasper’s back rises and falls with a sigh. “That’s her choice.”
“Do you think maybe you’re pushing her away because you’re scared of how much you don’t want her to go?”
He squints and glares at me, pretending he’s annoyed at how damn perceptive I am.
“You don’t have to lose her if you don’t want,” I say, putting a button on my point.
Jasper takes another minute, gripping the edge of the sink, then shakes his head and stands up straight.
“Fine,” he says, relenting.
I put my arms around him—“You won’t regret it”—then plant a kiss on his lips.
“Don’t get too smug just because you’re a graduate now,” he jokes.
I shrug, smiling, and take him by the hand, heading for the door.
Back at the table, Jasper sits, and Aisha glances up, sipping from her soda that arrived while we were in the bathroom.
“So, Aisha,” Jasper says, clearing his throat and sounding a thousand shades of awkward. She places her glass on the table cautiously. “What do you recommend for a Pancake Factory virgin?”
She squints, probably wondering if his gesture of reconciliation is sincere.
“Can’t go wrong with pancakes,” she says. “But the Spanish omelet is pretty nice too.”
He smiles. “Sounds good. And”—under the table, I place a hand on his thigh and squeeze—“and how about an apology?”
“Is that on the menu?” she asks.
“It’s the chef’s special.”
“Well, in that case—”
Jasper leans forward, dropping the bit and reaching across the table. “I’m sorry, Aisha.”
“That apology come with any sides?”
“Just one. A promise. Next time I’ll be there for you like I should have been.”
For a moment she doesn’t respond, but tears well in her eyes.
Then she reaches out and takes Jasper’s hand.
There’s a lot they still need to talk about, to figure out and overcome, but a crowded Pancake Factory is maybe not the place for a broader discussion, so for now, this gesture will have to do.
She squeezes his fingers, and I know they’re going to be okay.
The rest of the evening passes blissfully uneventfully. Gulping down the last of my pancakes, I look around and feel myself filling up, yes with delicious syrupy goodness, but also with a weird sense of joy, or maybe pride, that I get to call this oddball collection of people my family.
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Katie asks as I walk her to her mom’s car.