Track 22
May – ALANA
“ON THE LEFT!” a man shouts from behind my line, and I watch as he passes by with a large golden flagpole in hand, heading for the stage through the metal doors.
It’s my first time at a real football stadium. Knowing I’ll be on the field with thousands of eyes on me feels kind of surreal.
Lia’s been prepping me on what to expect since I skipped graduation rehearsal and have basically ignored anything related to the event thus far.
“So, first, they’ll direct us to line up alphabetically along the side stage, and then when they call you, they’ll stream it on the jumbotron so your family can actually see you.
This year, they’re doing a split screen for the honors students, though, so while we’re up there, we get to see our family box, too,” Lia tells me as she bounces with excitement.
Her graduation cap is perched perfectly above her full curls that cascade around her copper, sun-kissed face.
I try to give her a genuine smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. They’re too full of apprehension. I straighten an invisible wrinkle on my graduation gown, a baby blue dress fit snugly to my frame underneath it.
Lia gives me an apologetic smile. “They won’t show a box if it’s empty, babe.”
I nod.
“Just…don’t look up, okay?” she says as she swings a loving arm around me and places her head on my shoulder. I let out a deep breath, then rest my head against hers.
An empty family box is the perfect metaphor for what I’m left with—a mom who walked out on me, a dad who hates me, a brother whose life I stole from him, and a love I don’t get to keep. Yeah, I don’t need a visual of that emptiness hanging above my head. The thoughts alone are more than enough.
My chest gets tight, and it suddenly feels hard to swallow.
Lia lifts her head and nudges me before changing the subject. “Still up for dinner and drinks later, right?”
I clear my throat. “Yes, definitely,” I agree, although I’m not actually up for anything right now.
“Good, because we have to celebrate. It’s not every day we’ll graduate college cum laude, girl! We fucking did it!” She squeezes me tight, and for the first time all day, I actually feel a sliver of her excitement radiate around me.
It doesn’t last long, but Lia doesn’t ask if I’m okay or what’s wrong. Whether I’ve said it or not, she knows I’ve just been surviving these last few months.
I think that’s what happens after you lose the love of your life—you don’t live anymore.
You survive. Loving someone with your whole heart and being loved that same way ruins you for anything smaller.
It rewrites you down to the bone. There’s no going back.
Time fractures into before them, the short while they existed in your arms, and the cruel aftermath where you drag yourself through days that were never meant to be lived without them.
Lia’s been by my side much more than I expected, and I’m thankful, because I needed it.
Jake is still the only person I’ve shared my past with, but Lia knew enough to see my broken heart.
It was written all over me when she came to rally me for a night out before winter break ended.
When I began crying the moment the door opened, she opted to stay in with wine and popcorn instead of going to bars and clubs and doing all the other fun things young people normally do before classes start up again.
I told her everything about Jake and me, from beginning to end.
The way he caught my attention with that broken, aching sadness he carried.
The way he stepped in and offered to help me with an assignment he didn’t even need to work on.
How something light and playful turned into me craving his presence almost overnight, wanting him near me at every possible moment.
And then I told her how it ended. That even though I loved Jake with every part of me, there was no way to make it work.
She knows about the commitments that existed long before him; the obligations to my family that would always keep Jake and me worlds apart.
And with an opportunity like Seattle waiting for him, asking him to stay would have been unrealistic.
Selfish in a way love isn’t meant to be.
She couldn’t understand why I didn’t ask him to stay, and all that told me was that she’d never known that kind of love.
The kind that makes you willing to give up your own life just to know they’d get even one good day.
I was never looking for it, but it found me anyway, so quiet and undeniable.
Like a feather carried in the wind. And just as fleeting.
As soon as I wrapped my hands around it, it slipped through my fingers. It was already gone.
It was the exact distraction I was afraid of, maybe even worse, but I can't bring myself to regret it.
I take a deep breath and stretch my smile, trying my best to hide my thoughts, but the reality of what today means is hard to shake off.
Today should be bursting with excitement.
The kind that swells in your chest until it’s almost unbearable.
I worked relentlessly for this degree, earned it an entire year early.
It should feel like victory being placed in my hands.
I should be ecstatic—jubilant, like Lia beside me.
Eager for the next chapter and thrilled to celebrate it with the people who love me most.
But today doesn’t mean for me what it means for everyone else. When the camera pans to where my family should be, there will be no cheers. No proud faces. Just…emptiness.
For me, graduation is an ending. The end of my freedom. The end of the solitude and safety I finally carved out for myself. It means packing my life into boxes and driving 1,300 miles back to a broken past. Back to a wasteland I barely survived the first time.
The worst part is not knowing what I’m going back to.
What’s left of my father, of our home, if it can even be called that anymore, is a huge unknown.
But it doesn’t matter what mess waits for me there.
It’s my responsibility to clean it up before Parker comes home so he can have the fresh start he deserves. The one he so selflessly gave me.
I shuffle forward as the line moves ahead, then take my alphabetized assigned seat a few rows ahead of Lia.
My stomach quivers with nerves, and I try to convince myself it’s just anticipation. The spark of a positive eagerness, I tell myself. I wonder if consciously attempting to manipulate yourself is a sign of psychotic behavior. I should look that up.
My row is called by the attendant, and I stand along with the other graduates, continuing my shuffle forward in small steps so I don’t step on the person’s heels in front of me. We pause when we get to the short staircase leading to the stage.
I watch people fidget with their hands as they wait for their name to be announced.
They’re probably worried they’ll trip and fall in front of thousands of people.
Normal anxieties for a situation like this one.
I, on the other hand, am full of fear over the stage itself and the life that comes after I walk across it.
I move up a step as a student is called forward. Then another.
My stomach tightens fretfully, a wave of nausea beginning to rise with each new step.
The stage clears, and I wait for my name, my body a bundle of nerves. Part of me is worried I’ll miss being called at all.
A thundering voice says my name over the microphone. “Alana Sophia Dimerez.”
I inhale and hold my breath as I take steady strides forward.
I smile as much as I can manage and shake the hands of several staff members on my way to the podium. Don’t look up, I repeat in my head, but when I get to the gentleman who holds my degree in his hand, my eyes betray me. I peek up at the screen…and my entire body goes numb.
The room freezes over, and my heart stills with shock as I take in the man on the illuminated picture above.
Icy blue eyes stare straight through me with a smile so white it’s nearly blinding across the oversized screen.
Waves of golden-brown hair frame his squared jaw, freshly cut and clean shaven.
It’s been years since I’ve seen his face, yet somehow, he hasn’t changed a bit.
He still looks like an Armani model, his navy-blue suit and tie fitting him just right.
It’s as if he’s stepped out of a dream. Only he’s real. And he’s here.
“Congratulations, Miss Dimerez. I know you will be overwhelmingly successful in your life after college. It’s been an honor to work with you,” the dean says, drawing my attention back to him. His words don’t register. I can barely hear them over the blood whooshing through my ears.
Hope dances within me, my body moving on autopilot as the shock of seeing my brother continues to radiate through me.
I shake the dean’s hand, accept my degree with a smile that isn’t forced at all.
Tears well in my eyes as they shoot back up to Parker’s face.
A quivering hand comes over my mouth, holding in the sob that wants to break free.
I carefully walk down the few steps off the side of the stage, my vision blurred and my hands shaking…and then I run.
I break into a full-blown sprint down a side aisle and into crowds of people behind the steel doors.
I run up two flights of stairs, frantically reading signs as I try to remember where my family box is supposed to be.
I spin right and then left, taking a few steps in each direction, unsure which way will lead me to where I’m trying to go.
When I realize I have no idea how to get there, panic pools in my gut.
Does Parker have a phone? Does he even know my number? How the hell am I supposed to find him?!
“Lana!”
I hear his deep voice over the murmur of the crowd. My eyes scan the wide space, searching for frosted blue eyes that will always be home to me.