Molly was silent for a moment. “It’s beautiful.”
“I was going to take her shopping with me for the stone. A girls’ day. Maybe a mani-pedi when we were done.” On that, Jude’s resolve cracked, and she started to cry.
“Oh, Jude,” Molly said, hugging her again.
Jude should have felt enveloped by her friend’s love, but she couldn’t feel anything at all. Not then, as she stared down at this beautiful, unfinished ring with gaping, empty prongs …
Fifteen
The high school parking lot was full of cars on this sunny Saturday afternoon.
Lexi sat in the passenger seat of her aunt’s Ford Fairlane, staring through the grimy windshield at the crowd gathered around the flagpole.
“You belong here, Alexa,” her aunt said. “You’ve worked as hard for this day as anyone else.”
“I’m afraid,” she said quietly.
“I know,” her aunt said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Lexi took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. The old door creaked open, popping at the end of its arc.
She and Eva walked through the chattering crowd of family and friends who had come to see the class of 2004 graduate. Lexi kept her head down, not making eye contact with the reporters at the flagpole. As she passed them, she heard one of them say, “Two hundred and seventy-two seniors, Phil. It should have been two hundred and seventy-three.”
At the edge of the football field, Lexi paused.
“You better hurry,” Eva said. “We’re late.”
Lexi nodded, but as she looked at the rows of folding chairs set up on the green football field, she felt sick to her stomach.
“I’m proud of you, Alexa,” her aunt said. “You’re a good girl. And don’t you dare think otherwise.”
Eva gave her a bright smile and then disappeared into the crowd of proud parents streaming up into the bleachers.
Lexi saw the Farradays up there. Jude and Miles were seated in the second row, with Molly and Tim and Grandmother Caroline. Even from here, Lexi could see how pale and thin Jude looked. The black sunglasses she wore accentuated the pallor of her skin and the sharpness of her cheekbones. She had no lipstick on, and she was carrying Mia’s pink purse.
Lexi knew then she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t walk through this crowd and go into the gymnasium, where all her friends were dressed in caps and gowns, waiting to walk triumphantly to the seats on the field. She couldn’t see Zach, not on this day, when Mia’s absence would be so keenly felt.
She pulled off her cap and unzipped her gown, stuffing them both in her big patchwork purse. She was about to leave when the class of 2004 filed onto the field, a stream of royal blue and marigold yellow robes against a cloudless sky.
She moved into one of the empty aisles beneath the bleachers. On the field below, her classmates moved into their assigned seats.
Zach was walking alone. In sunglasses (probably to protect his burned eyes in this bright sunlight), with his shaved head and burned jawline, he hardly looked like himself. Like Jude, there was a new hollowness to his face, and he wasn’t smiling.
When the last of the seniors had taken their seats, the audience burst into applause.