He was making my future look bleaker and bleaker.
At the moment, with this heat, it felt like an emergency room visit was in my immediate future.
Sweat trickled down into my eye, stinging it.
I’m on fire in more ways than one, I thought glumly.
Wasn’t graduation supposed to be fun? This was anything but. Everybody was miserable and aching for it to be over.
We’d all been waiting eagerly for thirteen years to get there, and now we wanted it to be over.
Figures.
As soon as my diploma was in my hand I was finding the nearest pool, lake, pond, river, sink—any water source would do—and drenching myself.
“You have all worked hard to reach this day,” Mr. Taylor continued. “Thirteen years—”
Matthew leaned across to me and snorted at Eddie. “It’ll be another thirteen years before this speech is over.”
“You’ve got that right,” muttered Eddie.
Close, but not quite. It was another thirteen minutes. By that point, there was a puddle under my seat composed of my salty sweat. My makeup had long ago melted off.
Mr. Taylor smiled at us all, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture, and began to call out the names.
At least the graduating class was small.
Mr. Taylor soon made it to the Ps and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not much longer now. I could hear the shower calling my name.
“Matthew Arnold Pierson,” he called. Matthew bound onto the stage, creating quite a show, much to the delight of the other football players.
“Mara Hadley Pryce,” he said next.
Me.
I walked up to the stage, much more graciously than Matthew had, although I had to keep telling myself not to run. Mr. Taylor shook my hand, handed me my diploma, and said, “Congratulations, Mara.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, wondering where the fireworks and strobe lights were, because this was seriously anticlimactic.
But I wasn’t getting any of that.
Nope.
All I got was sweat, cheap polyester, and, “Congratulations, Mara.”
My dad screamed my name from the stands and I spotted him easily, shaking my head in the process.
I stepped off the stage where Ms. Jones moved my tassel over.
As I was walking back to my seat, I noticed a guy leaning against the bleachers. I had never seen him before and this was a small town where everyone knew everyone.
He was tall and lean with wavy dark hair and tan skin. Despite the summer heat, he wore a black t-shirt and black jeans. It looked like he had a few tattoos. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he didn’t seem happy at all. And his bright, gray eyes were staring right at me. Through me. It was like he was eating me alive. His eyes narrowed when he caught me watching him.
I blinked, and he was gone, but the shadows where he’d stood suddenly seemed a little darker.
I looked around, searching for him.
First the sword and now this? I was clearly losing my mind.
It had to be a figment of my imagination, right?
My eyes sought my dad in the crowd and that’s when I knew in my gut it hadn’t been my imagination. He was standing, stopped mid-clap, and looking at the empty space by the bleachers with a horror-stricken look on his face.
I shook my head and all but fell into my chair when I reached it.
What is going on?
I pushed thoughts of the dark-haired boy from my mind. It wasn’t worth fretting over.
Finally, the last name was called, and we were tossing our caps in the air. We stood in a collective burst of royal blue and sunshine yellow, cheering for the fact that we’d survived.
“Mara!” my best friend, Dani, yelled a second before crashing into me.
“Whoa,” I cried, steadying us before I fell into someone and started a human game of dominoes.
“It’s over,” she sobbed, and I blanched at the fact that she was crying. “We’re all going our separate ways. What if we never see each other again? Please, tell me that won’t happen,” she begged, pulling on my gown to hold herself up while I prayed she wouldn’t rip it.
“Dani,” I said, in a soothing voice like a parent would use with a child. “That’s not going to happen. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. I’m not going to throw all those years away. Besides, I’ve tried to get rid of you before. You’re not easily thwarted,” I joked.
She smacked me on the arm and wiped her face free of tears.
We were complete opposites when it came to looks. Where I was light, she was dark.
Her raven hair was long and straight, hanging down her back like a curtain. She was tall and curvy with a butt and boobs I envied. Her skin was a chocolate color with a flawless complexion. She was one of those girls who never had to wear makeup.
I had one thing she envied, though—the gap between my front teeth. I had no idea why she liked it so much, I always hated the space, but she claimed it was very vogue.
Dani could have hung out with the popular crowd but, instead, she stuck by me. I had yet to figure out what was so great about me. I felt I was an overall boring and average person. I wasn’t big on the social scene or anything like that. Going to the mall was about all the fun I longed for.
“Are you going to go to Jules’ party?” she asked.
“I don’t want to,” I whined.
“Pretty please?” she pouted. She had been pestering me all week to go to Jules’ graduation party. I wasn’t the party type, but Dani enjoyed them and always wanted me to go with her.
“If I give in will you leave me alone?” I asked.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed and hugged me.
“You owe me.” I laughed, her good mood rubbing off on me.
“I know, but I’m too happy to care,” she cried clapping her hands.
The parents were now making their way down to us from the bleachers. Many of them were fanning themselves with programs. I could feel my hair fuzzing around my head from the humidity.
I saw my dad heading toward me, and Dani’s parents were behind him.
“Congrats, kiddo.” Dad wrapped his arms around me.
“Thanks.” I hugged him back tightly as if I was afraid he was going to melt away like the mysterious guy.
“I wish your mom could be here to see this,” he whispered in my ear.
“Me too,” I whispered back.
There was so much I didn’t know about her, and I often wondered what kind of person she would’ve been had she lived. All I had of her was one picture and a mysterious box I wasn’t allowed to open until my twentieth birthday. It was all very Twilight Zone to me. I figured maybe she’d written me a letter imparting some wisdom to me of some sort or maybe a gift. I guess I’d find out in two years.
“She’d be so proud of you, baby girl.” He kissed my forehead. “I know I am. I’m proud of you too, Dani,” he called over to my best friend.
She laughed, amused. “Thanks, Mr. Pryce.”
“How many times have I told you, Dani? Call me Steven,” he said. “Mr. Pryce makes me feel old.”
“Dad, you could never be old,” I scolded.