The Art of Faking Straight

Epilogue

       The release – I am done.

        I have completed all the coursework, signed my name in all the right places, shook the hands of the administrators, and now I am free. The feeling in my stomach is similar to what someone being released from a contract that has bogged them down for years would feel. Some debt—I don’t know to whom or exactly what for— has been paid and now I am free.

       It's graduation night so most of our friends are out partying, getting too drunk to actually function.

       But not us.

       No.

        We ditched out on all that, favoring a night out alone. Just the two of us. Connor mentions heading out to this old spot by the lake, where all the stars shine brightly and the air smells of pine, and I eagerly agree to go there. Connor drives us out there and we just mess around, doing whatever we please, because, hey, we’re young and we can take on the world. Just the two of us.

       We sit on the edge of the pier, our shoes and socks abandoned somewhere by the car. We roll our pants up, allowing our legs to dangle off the side, toes splashing in the tepid waters, sending ripples through the serene body of blue. We’re still in our suits, dressed up for the dinner we bailed out on, with our ties loosened and jackets underneath our asses. We sit close, fingers entangled in one another’s.

       The fireflies all loaf around in the air, dizzily flying in a disorderly crowd of lights, resembling the stars up above. Connor focuses on them, follows the bugs with his eyes, a smile creeping onto his face.

        “You’re sure you wanna hit the road this summer – just us?” he asks, smiling. His tone is so lax, so cool, like the waters we dip our feet in, as if his voice is the air of the night.

        I don’t miss a beat, but say, “Definitely. We’re going without a doubt, just you and me, for the entire summer.” I think about how nice it will be to travel through a few states – nothing but miles upon miles of road ahead of us. I think we can handle it, hope we can handle it. Connor’s truck should be able to handle the drive as long as we don’t try to floor it or anything stupid like that. We’ve got two and a half months to travel through Route 66 and see as many tourist attractions as we can. The trip alone is memorable, but the trip with Connor is bound to be remarkable.

       “Sweet.” He says as he leans into my side. “Hey, close your eyes,” Connor commands, grinning so wide that the lines of his grin will more than likely be etched on his face for all eternity.

       I listen, my eyes gently shutting as I wonder what crazy thing he has planned this time. Connor has always been a mystery for me, and likely always will be, but I think that’s part of why I like him so much – every day is another journey.

        And then Connor’s lips press to mine as he mumbles how excited he is for the summer and all the days that follow.

       This is one of those nights we’ll look back on when the memories roll over us, passing by like clouds in the summer sky. Better than going to a loud and obnoxious party with people we won’t remember in a few years. A new serenity rising up from the blades of green, ushering us in like a soft welcoming bed, and lifting us up with wings.

       We fly.

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A/N: I actually intended for that to be excessively cheesy because this entire story was cheesy and the only version of a happily ever after I could come up with. This was more just to say thank you for reading this than to actually be an epilogue chapter and I'm sorry about that. You deserve a few million awards for reading and I really appreciate everything that you guys do, it's truly incredible and I am certainly not worthy. Thank you so much!