Graduation.
I can’t believe this day is here. My mom will be there today, in the auditorium, watching me walk across the stage to receive my diploma. I still haven’t spoken to my dad. Mom never brings it up and he doesn’t try. Apparently I meant nothing to him. I think my feelings would be hurt if it weren’t for Mr. Ross.
After Dylan and I broke up, he saw that I was down and started taking me to the gym. Working out has been my salvation. It gives me something to do. I also got my driver’s license. Once I turned eighteen, I didn’t have to take driver’s education and Mr. Ross insisted I learn to drive. I don’t have a car, but Mrs. Ross lets me drive hers when I need to.
I stare at the ceiling, biding my time before I have to get ready for graduation and reflect back on the last ten months. So much has changed since I started my senior year that it’s hard to believe I’m the same person I was at the end of August. No one but Dylan knows about Hadley. We don’t talk about her or what happened or how I made the biggest mistake of the year by even thinking I had a chance with her. I do think that if I hadn’t met Hadley, Dylan and I would’ve never taken our relationship to the next level. A relationship that we haven’t exactly stopped, we just aren’t dating. ‘Friends with benefits’ is what she calls it. She’s had one boyfriend since me, but that didn’t last very long.
I ended up taking Dylan to prom and we had a blast. Our prom was held at a hotel in Jackson. At first Mr. Ross was adamant that we not go, or go and come home. He even offered to pay for a driver, but Mrs. Ross said it was just one night and we were about to move to New York, so what was the big deal. The night of prom, Mr. Ross reminded me that he had a gun and I wasn’t to touch his daughter. If he only knew, I may be dead now.
I would’ve never thought my year would end the way it has, especially considering the way it started, and I have Dylan to thank for that.
“Umf,” I grunt when Dylan jumps onto my bed, landing on top of me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder as she rests her head on my chest. Our relationship is pretty solid and probably a deterrent for anyone who wants to date her. I feel bad about that, but I’m not sure how to change it.
“You’re getting too buff.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “I thought chicks dig muscles.”
“They do, but when we get to New York all the chicks are going to be chasing you down the block and I’m going to be right behind them with my broom.”
“I need a girlfriend, don’t you think? Unless we’re getting married and having lots of babies.”
Dylan slaps my stomach. Earlier in the year that would’ve hurt, but now I barely flinch. I like who I’ve become in the past few months. I walk with confidence now. I still don’t have many guy friends, but I’m willing to make those changes when we move next week. I’m going to be a new person and leave behind this underdog.
“Knock, knock.” Mrs. Ross is standing in my doorway, not even caring that Dylan is lying on my bed. I think she knows, but as long as we aren’t getting into trouble, she doesn’t say anything. We’re allowed in each other’s rooms as long as they’re home and the doors stay open. For the most part we follow the rules.
Dylan and I sit up. Mrs. Ross comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. I can tell she’s been crying. I know she’s not excited about Dylan moving, but I told her I’d make sure she’s taken care of. We rented a two-bedroom apartment. Her parents will pay for our rent since they’re saving on dorm costs and I’ll find a job to cover the rest of our expenses, like food.
“What’s up, Mom?” Dylan asks as her mom shakes her head. They embrace and I hear crying, my cue to escape. I’ll let mom and daughter have their crying fest.
I find Mr. Ross in the garage working on Dylan’s car. We are taking it to New York, so he’s been putting a lot of money into it.
“What’s going on?”
“They’re crying.”
He rolls his eyes and hands me a wrench. “Let me teach you how to change the oil.”
We spend the next hour under her car learning how to change the oil and where to watch for trouble. He teaches me things that every dad should be teaching his son.
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me this year. If it wasn’t –“
He sets his hand down on my arm, silencing me. “I did it because you deserved to have someone care about you. I sat back far too long and that incident woke me up. You needed someone to help you grow into a man and I needed someone to show me that I could make a change. You’ve turned into a standup young man and for that I’m proud. You could’ve taken what happened and turned down a path of self-destruction, but you didn’t.” He sets his hand on my shoulder, but I go in for a hug.