The Darkest Target (Arrows & Anchors Book 2) (SAMPLE)

Chapter 1: Proud (Part I)

"There he is!" Jesse announced, making all of us turn our attentions to the side.

Julian walked by—brisk and proud—in his distinguishable, white robe. He eyed the arena for us. His wavy, beautiful, golden-brown hair was, for the most part, hidden under a squared, white cap.

"'Ey, Miles!" Tommy yelled, with far more volume than was necessary. "Over here!'

Jesse hit Tommy's arm. "You damn idiot. Settle down."

Julian's eyes moved around and above us, until he spotted his family at last. In an instant, he locked eyes with me, as radiant pride colored his lifted cheeks a cherry red.

In swift movements, Julian made two quick circles in the air with his index finger, palm facing inward. This gesture effortlessly blended into his next movement, which consisted of only his thumb and pinky extended, in a sweeping, outward motion toward me.

I immediately recognized it as the only word in American Sign Language that I knew—endlessly.

Julian had been so worried about the requirement to take foreign language classes. That was, until he had found out that the American Sign Language courses would meet the same criteria. In such a short time, Jules had become an impressive, fluent signer.

It was the only natural choice for him, he'd told me, since it was the only language in the world where you could show someone, instead of tell them. Plus, it kept his rough hands busy when they weren't strumming his trusty Ibanez. He could never stay away from his guitar for very long.

Much to my joy and relief, some things never changed.

Julian strode down the middle aisle. Instead of taking a seat on the floor, he walked up onto the stage. There, his special chair awaited him. He took it in silence, while the rest of that year's class filed in.

"Look, Brooke!" Laina pointed inside the program. "It even has his name on the second page!"

I glanced over to find that she was right.

"I hope he's not too nervous," I said to no one in particular.

"This is a decent crowd," Tommy reached over to rub my shoulder, "but it's no Wembley. He's plenty used to this."

The music halted. A robed woman, toward the front, motioned for all of us to stand. All fell quiet when a stout, distinguished, older man took the podium. He bumped the microphone by accident and stroked his bushy, white beard in a restless fashion before speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Chancellor Esme, I am thrilled to welcome you all to the ninety-ninth commencement ceremony of Crestone College."

Roaring applause echoed against every inch of wall in the building. It was now at full capacity.

"I, Vice Chancellor John Patricks, would like to extend a warm thank you to all graduands, family members, friends, faculty, staff, and trustees for attending today. Please, everyone have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable."

Just as he asked, we all plopped down. When the sounds of squeaking chairs subsided, he went on.

"Graduands, we are all here to recognize and celebrate your incredible achievements. I can speak for all of the academic faculty when I say how excited we are to bestow upon you an ultimate marker of success at Crestone College—that being the bachelor's degree."

The students began clapping, causing the whole crowd to join in with them.

"This degree is an indicator of your accomplishments, and a symbol of credentials in your chosen fields. Graduands, you are all deserving of this for the dedication you have shown over your years of study, but perhaps none more than the two students seated on either side of me."