I sit between Erica and Justine, my heart fluttering with a mix of excitent and lingering anxiety. The auditorium buzzes with the low hum of conversations, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or the sharp click of a cara shutter.
My fingers fidget with the edge of my robe, the unfamiliar texture both comforting and strange against my skin. It’s my first day out since Tessa kidnapped , and being in such a large crowd sends tiny shivers of unease down my spine. But Erica’s presence beside is a solid, reassuring anchor, keeping grounded in the present mont.
I glance around, taking in the sea of royal blue gowns and gold tassels. The sheer number of people is overwhelming after weeks of self-imposed isolation, but I can’t deny the thrill of excitent that courses through . This is what I’ve been looking forward to for so long. An ending to high school. A chapter end in life. A ans to close the book on this year and look forward to a better tomorrow.
Erica must sense my nervousness because she reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I turn to look at her, and the smile she gives is so full of love it takes my breath away. Her blue eyes sparkle with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat.
“You’re doing great, love,” she whispers, leaning in close. Her breath tickles my ear, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “I’m so proud of you for being here.”
Through the hustle and bustle, I notice movent in my peripheral vision. Glancing around, I spot several won strategically positioned throughout the auditorium. They’re dressed casually, blending in with the crowd of proud parents and siblings, but there’s an unmistakable alertness in their postures. One catches my eye and gives a subtle nod before returning her attention to scanning the crowd.
Erica follows my gaze and smiles. “See?” she says softly. “I told you we weren’t taking any chances. You’re safe here, Jason.”
As the principal begins calling nas, I can see Irma, Louis, and Skye seated two rows ahead of us. Irma’s wild brown curls are barely contained by her graduation cap, bouncing slightly with each excited movent she makes. Louis sits straight, his posture impeccable as always, while Skye fidgets nervously with the tassel on her cap.
Suddenly, Irma’s deanor changes. Her back stiffens as she looks left and right as if she’s hiding sothing. She slowly raises her arms above her head, palms facing upward. Her voice, low and serious, carries back to us over the din of the crowd.
“Lend your energy,” she intones, her eyes fixed straight ahead with an intensity that’s almost unsettling.
‘Is she trying to summon a fucking Spirit bomb? During graduation?’ I panic in my mind palace as I take in this idiotic site.
I feel a conflicted urge rise within . On one hand, Irma’s behavior is clearly eccentric, bordering on disturbed. Her request is bizarre and out of place in the formal setting of our graduation ceremony. Logic tells to ignore her and focus on the event at hand.
But on the other hand... what if? What if, by so strange twist of fate or cosmic coincidence, Irma actually needs our energy? What if this is one of those pivotal monts where belief trumps reason, where the impossible becos possible?
‘What if she can really summon a spirit bomb? The odds aren’t zero. I an, I t god once.’
Before I can fully process my decision, I find my own arms rising, mirroring Irma’s pose. The buzz of conversation dims to a low hum in my ears as I concentrate on channeling whatever energy I might possess towards her.
Suddenly, I feel Erica’s gaze on . I turn to et her eyes, seeing an annoyed grimace twisting her features.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and exasperation.
I nod towards Irma, my arms still raised. Erica follows my gaze, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the scene. For a mont, she stares at Irma, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, her face cracks into an insulting laugh, the sound low but mocking.
“Is she trying to summon a fucking Spirit Bomb?” Erica snickers, her voice dripping with derision. She shakes her head, blonde hair swaying with the movent. “What, is she trying to kill everyone here?”
The sarcasm in her tone is palpable, cutting through the air like a knife. I feel a flush of embarrassnt creep up my neck, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous I must look with my arms raised.
Justine, sensing our conversation, turns her head towards us. Her erald eyes sparkle with curiosity as she takes in our expressions and follows our gaze.
When she spots Irma with her arms raised, a look of recognition flashes across her face. “Is Irma doing a ‘lend your energy’ thing?” she asks, her voice a mixture of amusent and intrigue.
I nod, feeling a bit sheepish but still committed to the bit. Justine’s lips curl into a mischievous smirk, her eyes dancing with barely contained laughter. Without a word, she slowly raises her own arms, mirroring Irma’s pose.
The three of us sit there, arms raised, in stark contrast to the sea of blue-robed graduates around us. The air feels charged with anticipation.
Seconds stretch into minutes, each mont feeling longer than the last. I can feel the eyes of nearby graduates on us, their curious glances and suppressed giggles adding to the surreal nature of the situation. The weight of my arms begins to make itself known, a dull ache spreading through my shoulders.
Just as the mont starts to feel unbearably long, I chance a glance upward. Unsurprisingly, there’s no shimring blue ball of energy forming above Irma’s head. No swirling vortex of power ready to be unleashed upon our unsuspecting classmates. Just the plain white ceiling of the auditorium, adorned with a few strategically placed banners celebrating our graduating class.
‘Have I beco cringe?’
A heavy sigh escapes my lips, my arms still stubbornly raised. Part of feels foolish for even entertaining the idea, while another part feels a strange sense of disappointnt.
‘Again, the odds were non-zero. It was worth a shot.’
Suddenly, a wave of movent ripples through our row. Graduates begin to stand, adjusting their robes and caps as they prepare to make their way to the stage. The spell is broken, reality rushing back in with all its pomp and circumstance.
I finally lower my arms, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering embarrassnt. As I stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in my gown, I catch Justine’s eye. She shrugs at , a silent acknowledgnt of our shared mont of whimsy.
As we slowly shuffle forward in the line, Erica’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling close. The warmth of her body against mine is a comforting presence, grounding in the mont. I can feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the soft fabric of her gown rustling against mine.
“I love you so much, Jason,” Erica whispers, her lips brushing against my ear.
Unable to resist, I turn my head and steal a quick kiss. Erica’s lips are soft and warm against mine. It’s a fleeting mont of sweetness, a stolen second of intimacy amidst the pomp and circumstance of graduation.
But Erica, it seems, has other ideas. As I start to pull away, her hand cos up to cup the back of my neck, holding in place. Her lips press more insistently against mine, parting slightly. I feel the gentle swipe of her tongue against my bottom lip, asking for entrance.
Ti seems to slow down as Erica deepens the kiss. The world around us fades away, the murmur of the crowd, the rustle of gowns, the occasional flash of caras. All of it recedes into the background. There’s only Erica, the softness of her lips, the gentle caress of her tongue against mine, the warmth of her body pressed close.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, ssing up the careful styling I’d done earlier. But I can’t bring myself to care. Not when Erica is kissing like this, like I’m the air she needs to breathe, like I’m the most precious thing in her world.
I lose myself in the kiss, my arms wrapping around her waist to pull her even closer. The edge of my cap bumps against her forehead, but neither of us pays it any mind. We’re lost in our own little bubble of love and desire, oblivious to the world around us.
Distantly, I beco aware of a commotion. The line behind us has co to a complete stop, graduates shifting awkwardly as they try to navigate around our impromptu make-out session. There are a few whistles and good-natured chuckles, but I barely register them.
What does break through our haze of passion is the unmistakable sound of our families. From sowhere in the bleachers, I hear my mother’s voice, loud and clear: “That’s my boy!” This is quickly followed by a “Get it, girl!” from Vivian. Her voice is full of pride and amusent.
The sound of our families’ cheering snaps back to reality. A wave of embarrassnt washes over as I realize we’ve been making out in front of the entire auditorium. My face flushes hot, and I quickly pull away from Erica, breaking the kiss.
Erica, however, seems unfazed. As I step back, she gives a naughty look, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. Her lips curl into a seductive smirk. She runs her tongue slowly across her bottom lip, a deliberate and sensual gesture that makes my heart race despite my embarrassnt.
“Later,” she mouths silently, giving a wink that promises much more to co.
I gulp audibly, my mind racing with the implications of that single word and look. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turn my attention back to the graduation ceremony. I quickly work to get Erica and back to where we are supposed to be.
Once the line is moving smoothly again, we make our way towards the stage. The walk feels surreal like I’m floating rather than walking. The polished wood of the stage gleams under the bright lights, and I can hear the steady rhythm of nas being called, followed by applause.
Before I know it, it’s my turn. I hear my na echo through the auditorium, “Jason Parker,” and a surge of excitent and nerves courses through . I take a deep breath and step onto the stage, my heart pounding in my chest.
The principal, Ms. Blackwood, stands at the center of the stage, a warm smile on her face. She’s an imposing figure for soone so easily bought.
As I reach her, Ms. Blackwood extends her hand, the diploma held carefully in her grasp. “Congratulations, Mr. Parker,” she says, her voice carrying clearly across the stage. “You should be very proud of your accomplishnts.”
‘Bribery really is no joke. She should probably be fired for giving this.’
I reach out to take the diploma. The parchnt feels weighty and significant in my hand, a tangible representation of years of hard work and perseverance.
As I grasp the diploma, ti seems to slow. The weight of the mont settles over , a mixture of pride, nostalgia, and anticipation for the future. I turn to face the audience, my eyes scanning the sea of faces until I find my family. There’s my mom with a proud smile on her face. Next to her, Vivian beams, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Brooke is clapping with a loving joy in her eyes. Rachel is scrolling on her phone.
Once we’re both back in our seats, diplomas in hand, I turn to Erica. My heart is light with the joy of the mont and the promise of celebration to co. “Hey,” I whisper, leaning in close, “can we invite Louis and his girlfriends to our graduation party tonight?”
Erica sighs softly, her eyes flicking over to where Louis sits with Irma and Skye. She studies them for a mont, her gaze analytical as she takes in their excited chatter and intertwined hands. Finally, she turns back to , a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Fine,” she concedes, her voice tinged with fond exasperation. “But only because you’re so cute.”
A grin spreads across my face as I think about how I haven’t seen Louis in forever. “We are so back!”
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