Remember When #featured #AllStars

Chapter 25

CLASS ACTION

Trip and I didn't have much time to spend together over the following couple of weeks. After the prom- which Trip refused to attend for reasons unbeknownst to me- the partying had been put on hold as everyone readied for final exams. Everyone was hit with a case of senioritis, just riding out the minutes until graduation. The days seemed to be flying by so fast at a time I would have rather had everything come to a standstill.

It was scary to think that those were the official final days of my childhood, that I was going to be expected to grow up, go off to school, and figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I was pretty stressed out about the whole thing, but did my best to push all those thoughts to the back of my mind for the time being.

Graduation was the first week in June and the weather that Tuesday was looking pretty iffy. No one wanted it to rain, forcing the ceremony inside. Everyone kept their fingers crossed that the weather would hold out just long enough for us to get our diplomas and get to Rymer's afterparty without getting drenched.

Thankfully, aside from a few drizzly raindrops, our commencement ceremony went off without a hitch, and by the time it was over, the sun had actually peeked through for a brief instance before nightfall.

Kuman Royal was our salutatorian and he managed to bore everyone with an uninspiring speech. The boy had been a robot from the time that he was born, so I guessed all that studying didn't allow him to hone his people skills to the hilt.

But then Heather Ferrante took the podium as valedictorian and just rocked the place.

She spoke a lot about "who we were", ticking off our collective memories about talent shows and sporting events and favorite teachers, her mention of Mrs. Catannia bringing a few hoots and wolf whistles from the male members of the audience (as she was the original cougar/TILF/thing-we-had-no-official-name-for at the time), and her reference to the day when Rymer downed a record-setting fourteen frenchbread pizzas in the cafeteria brought about a collective laughing fit, while Rymer stood up and took a bow.

But when she started talking about "who we are" and "who we will be", the audience settled down in order to absorb every word. She talked about our hopes and our goals and about how scary it was going to be to start anew all over again. That we were, in fact, the future and that that responsibility shouldn't be taken lightly. But it was when she was wrapping up her big speech and said- and these words have stayed with me throughout my life- "We know what we are, but know not what we may be" -that I noticed a lump in my throat. For the slightest moment, you could hear a pin drop, but then everyone got over their sappy sentimentality as the place erupted in applause.

After the ceremony, we spent some time milling about, saying congratulations to one another and taking pictures. Lisa pointed out the shiny, black corvette in the parking lot sporting a big, red bow; a gift to some lucky, spoiled graduate being presented all showy like in some tacky movie.

I gave Mrs. Mason a high-five on my way out to the oval lawn, who took the opportunity to offer some parting words of wisdom as she smiled, winked, and said, "Give 'em hell, Layla."

Trip was standing with his parents, so I went over to say hello. His face lit up when he saw me. "Layla! Hey, come meet my sister!"

I was introduced to Claudia Wilmington, in town from San Diego for the auspicious occasion. I knew that she was twenty-three and had been living out in California since she was eighteen, never having moved back in with her nomadic family after college.

I also knew that she was living with her girlfriend, and that her parents didn't have any clue about it.

I said hello to everyone, and Mrs. Wilmington was her usual chipper self, smoothing a hand over Trip's hair, trying to ready him for a photo. His father was friendly enough, but he seemed distracted as if he had somewhere else more important to be instead of at his only son's graduation. But they both said hello pleasantly, and Mr. Wilmington told me to get next to Trip for a picture, so I sidled up and threw my arm over his shoulder. Trip flashed me one of his evil grins and then scooped me up in his arms, the both of us cracking up as his father snapped the photo.