Jordyn screams so loud she’ll probably be hoarse later. But her cheers aren’t alone. I search the crowd and see Henry, Kelly, Aslan, Patricia, and, I think, Dr. Dave applauding wildly. Patricia’s standing and doing this kind of inappropriate dance. Just behind her I swear I see my mom, but then my eyes adjust and I remember that she’s dead all over again.
I’m blinking back tears when the principal shakes my hand. He says something, but I have no idea what. Maybe she is watching. Somewhere. Not that I necessarily believe in any of that. I don’t.
I follow the line of my fellow graduates back to our row and Jordyn jumps up from her seat and throws herself into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. One of the nearby teachers—oh, god, it’s Mrs. Hickenlooper—leaps into action, peeling her off of me. But Jordyn gets in a good, long kiss first.
? ? ?
After the ceremony, which was about twelve hours long, we head to the house, where all of Jordyn’s family is waiting to shower her with graduation gifts.
I sit back at the fire pit, watching Jordyn hug and thank various relatives. I’ve never had that, and while part of me thinks that that much family could be a hassle, another part considers how different things might have been if I did have extended family. If Mom had had someone she could turn to when Dad made things unbearable. If she had a sister or a brother or a close cousin she could’ve confided in.
Aslan’s laugh erupts from across the lawn as he chats with one of Kelly’s brothers. He notices me and strides over. “You kidder. Kelly tells me you’re going to Stanford on a football scholarship. I’m hurt you didn’t tell me you played. We could have seriously bonded, bro.” He punches me on the arm.
“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight this year.”
“Yeah, I heard. You dealing okay now? You need anything?”
I almost laugh at his serious face. It looks like a bad put-on, but I know it’s not. It’s just the way he looks. “I’m good now. Jordyn helped.”
“Whatever she did, you know she gets that from me, right?”
I manage a laugh. “Sure?”
“Well, you come back and visit us, okay? We gotta do some football bonding. Maybe at Thanksgiving.”
“Maybe,” I say. He hears his name being bellowed by his wife and leaves me with a hearty fist bump.
I scan the crowd for Jordyn, but she might have gone inside. So I lean back and stare past the flames, taking in the Colorado beauty. The purple mountain majesties with their brilliant orange halo seem to have made themselves even more spectacular, as if they know I’ll be leaving them for good and are trying to seduce me into staying.
Captain nudges my hand with his cold nose, forcing me to pet him, then he rests his chin on my leg and closes his eyes blissfully. My heart twists.
“He’ll be here when you come home for Thanksgiving.” Henry hands me a Coke and sits down next to me. Captain doesn’t move from his head-petting.
I’m unable to look at Henry. If I look at him, or anyone else that I care about, I’ll probably lose it, so I stare into the bright orange and yellow flames.
Henry doesn’t say anything for a long time. Neither do I.
“You’re always welcome here, you know.” He takes a long swig of his beer. I haven’t so much as sipped my Coke.
My eyes burn, and not from staring into the fire. First Aslan, now Henry. I swallow hard, unable to put into words how much his invitation means to me. And how much it hurts that I won’t take him up on it. And just like that, I know that I won’t. I can’t. It’s suddenly clear. I have to move on. I have to evolve. I can’t linger in the past. And this place has too much of that. This—all of it—it’ll soon be a bunch of memories, beautiful and tragic and significant, but it’s not my future.
“Henry, I don’t know how I can possibly—”
Henry cuts me off with the clank of his bottle against mine, and one of his Henry looks that says more than any number of words could. Then he gets up and heads inside. I’m not sure, but I feel like he understands. I know his invitation is very real, and who knows, maybe I’ll take him up on it one day. But for right now, there are too many ghosts in this city.
THIRTY-EIGHT
I spend the next week putting on a brave face. Kelly seems oblivious, but I find Henry watching me with . . . I don’t know, maybe a sad kind of admiration? Or maybe I’d just like to think that. Jordyn has been acting “normal,” and by that I mean not normal at all. She’s been way too happy and excited. It’s out of character, but then I’m doing the same thing, aren’t I?
The day before the day, I wake up, finishing any and all last-minute packing, which, let’s face it, there’s not much of. Then I head out to my last session with Dr. Dave.
I saw him after graduation—yes, it was him in the crowd with a view of Patricia’s ass—and he told me that I didn’t have to come, but I insisted.
His face is a mash of emotion when he greets me.
“Hey, Doc, don’t go getting all mushy on me. I’m barely hanging on as it is.” I throw myself onto the couch and kick my feet up.
Dr. Dave chuckles as he joins me. “What can I say, Tyler, I’ll miss you.”