I don’t know what it is about this band, but suddenly I adore them even more than I did before. I already loved the song, and I already understood the message it was trying to convey, but listening to the singer be so straightforward and to the point only makes me appreciate the lyrics even more than I already did. I can relate to them a hell of a lot. Especially this song, because it makes me wonder if I’ve done the right thing, if maybe I should run back home and tell Tyler I’ve made a huge mistake, that I really do want us to be together. But in my heart, I know we have to hold back. We have no other option. Tears spring into my eyes again as I listen to the song. It’s bittersweet.
I feel a huge pang in my heart, but I bite down on my lip and keep my eyes trained on the stage. The guitarist starts strumming, and then the bassist joins in, and then the drummer, and then finally the singer, and soon the song is blasting around us, deafeningly loud but all the more exciting. I can feel the music vibrating through my body as goose bumps surface along my arms, the hairs rising.
And it’s then that I feel Dean’s hand slip into mine.
He takes me by surprise, but his skin is warm, and he squeezes my hand tightly before rubbing soft circles on my skin with his thumb. I don’t let go. It’s partly because it’s so sudden and out of nowhere that I’m not quite sure what to think of it, and also partly because it feels almost…comforting. Dean’s always made me feel comfortable. And right now, of all times, I need all the comfort I can get.
When I glance sideways at him, his eyes are locked on the stage and he’s nodding his head in sync with the kick drum. But most importantly, he’s smiling.
Epilogue
Ten months later
If someone had told me last year that I’d be finishing up junior year in Santa Monica and not Portland, I would never have believed them. I would have laughed. Yet here I am, piling my marine biology textbooks into my locker and rummaging around for my car keys. When I find them and take a step back, Rachael comes twirling over to me from the other end of the hallway.
“Another day down!” she cheers, a huge grin on her face. She lifts her hand and waves two fingers in front of my face. Yesterday it was three; the day before it was four. “Two days to go until graduation!”
“Yeah, for you,” I mutter, pretending to be pissed off, but then I roll my eyes and laugh. Rachael’s been counting down the days ever since Christmas and she’s already perfected her method of tossing her cap, so I’m cutting her some slack, despite how badly I hate the whole idea of her graduating. “When you’re in college, remember to spare a thought for your best friend who’s still stuck here.”
“You’re our little baby,” she coos as she stretches out an arm to pat my head, but I duck and step to the side, fixing her with a deathly glare. I quickly scan the hallway to make sure no one noticed, but Rachael just giggles and purses her lips together innocently. “You have to make sure our legacy lives on,” she says. “I want you to write my name on every bathroom stall to ensure that I become a legend within this building. In five years’ time, I want people to know that I walked these hallways.”
“Unfortunately, no one actually cares.” She whacks my arm just as I slam my locker shut, but then her laughter fades and her lips flatten into an awkward half smile. I know that expression like the back of my hand, so I heave a sigh and ask the daily question. I already know the answer. “Tiffani’s coming, isn’t she?”
Rachael quickly nods, and when I turn around, I see the same thing I see every other day. Tiffani and Jake, hand in hand, sauntering down the hallway. It doesn’t faze me. Honestly, I think they’re an okay couple. The rest of the school seems to agree, with the girls constantly telling Tiffani how jealous they are, to which she usually flashes a dazzling grin in reply. They’ve been dating for a while now. Tyler was scribbled off her “must have” list a long time ago.
“Hey, guys,” she says softly as she passes, and Jake gives us a clipped nod. But they don’t stop; they never stop, because Tiffani and I still aren’t on speaking terms. We can be civil, the same way Tyler and Jake are (although now the tension has grown worse), but we aren’t friends. Rachael and Meghan try to hang out with us separately. Thankfully, Tiffani’s going to UCSB, so she’s packing up and heading for Santa Barbara in the fall. Jake’s going to Ohio State, halfway across the country, so I’ve been wondering how long the two of them will be able to cope with the distance. I give it a month.
They float off down the hall and disappear out the exit, and Rachael turns to me, breathing out the air she’s been holding in. “On the bright side,” she says, “you won’t have to see her every day.”
This is the difficult aspect of being in a group of friends who are all a grade above you. When Rachael, Meghan, Tiffani, Jake, Dean, and Tyler graduate on Thursday, I’ll be left behind. I still have senior year to plow through before I get to experience college for myself. For now, I’ll have to stick with my friends in my own grade, the ones I’ve made gradually over the past year, who may not be my best friends but are still a great group of people.