"Ugh!" I groaned, tossing my hairbrush angrily into the sink. The clatter echoed in the small room, the brush swirling around the basin before coming to rest at the bottom.
"Issues?" Mia asked, giving me a side eyed glance from her small make up mirror on the counter at my side.
"I hate my fucking hair," I whined, picking up another chunk of blonde locks, and wrapping it around the wand curling iron Mia had handed over to me after finishing her own perfect curls. "How do you even work this bloody thing?"
Mia snorted, turning her attention back to her makeup. "Maybe this is a lesson that you should actually try and do something with your hair once in a while? You know, other than a ponytail and knot on your head. Hair and makeup is a skill, and you're way out of practice."
I huffed in annoyance at her, knowing all too well that I couldn't argue with her points with much validity. She was right. I never wore makeup, and never did much with my hair. Only on special occasions did I bother with either. I was the epitome of low key, no maintenance. I didn't like the fuss and fluff of glamour, never seeing the need for layers of makeup and luxurious curls on a daily basis.
I never even thought about it. Until days like today, when I would be required to artfully master both in the matter of a morning.
It was graduation day. The last three years of my life had brought me to this moment, when I would be walking across that stage in front of the entire class, my family and friends, and receive my degree. All the hard work, sleepless nights, and stress finally seemed worth it.
If only my fucking hair would cooperate, then maybe I could enjoy the day I had worked so hard towards!
My parents were due to arrive any minute, escorting us to the ceremony, and staying for the small cocktail reception following. They had begged to take me out to dinner afterwards, to celebrate, listing off all the possible choices of restaurants around the city we could go to. They didn't come in the New York often, so when they did they liked to pull the 'tourist' card, and try anything new.
Mia and I were currently crowded in our small bathroom, trying to put the finishing touches on our graduation day looks. Of course, she looked perfect. Hair lightly curled in long dark waves down her back. The red sun dress she wore hugged her slim body, showing off her tan and long legs. Her make up was simple, but accentuated her features and big brown eyes. She looked amazing.
I, however, had been struggling with my hair for over thirty minutes, after spending even more time than that prior trying to put on makeup. Finally, after much cursing and a little whining, Mia had stepped in and finished the task for me.
She had lined my eyes with a thin black liner, a simple additive to make my blue eyes appear larger, without looking too much. Since I never regularly wore makeup, anything on me seemed overload. My lashes were curled above my eyes with coats of mascara, and a light dusting of blush to give my pale cheeks some color. She had given me a light lip gloss to keep in my bag for the day, saying I would probably need to reapply more than once. Why I would need to reapply I had no idea, but she knew more than I did in this regard, so I slipped the small tube into the little bag I was bringing to the ceremony.
I had slipped on a simple white sundress, a delicate halter top tying at my neck. The material was light, and flowed easily. It was very springy, light and natural. Just like with makeup, I rarely wore dresses, and wanted to make sure I was as comfortable as possible.
A knock at the door tore me away from glaring at the lock of hair between my fingers.
"Shit, my parents are here already," I cursed, fiddling with the curling iron.
"I will get the door, you just finish quick. Don't burn yourself," Mia said, popping the cap back on her lip gloss, before smacking her lips at the mirror and turning on her heel to grab the door.
Quickly, I did my best to finish my hair to what my meager skill would allow, before unplugging the iron and stepping into the living room.
"There she is!" my mother squealed, her arms already extended as she descended on me before I had even made it a few steps into the living room. She hugged me tightly, rocking me back and forth.
Leaning back, she held me at arms length.
"Baby, we're so proud of you," she gushed, her eyes already welling up.
"For God sake, Cathy, don't blubber already," my father scolded, before pulling me away from her and into his arms.
"Congratulations, Laney," he whispered, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks daddy,"
I couldn't help my smile as I took in the faces of my parents. I looked a lot like my mother, I could admit now. We had the same blonde hair, the same shape of our faces. She was on the shorter side, just like me. My father always seemed to tower over her, but that was probably because he towered over most people. My blue eyes came from my father, and most people said that even our laugh sounded the same. It was like I was a perfect combination of the two, with various facets showing in different ways.
"You ready to go?" Mia asked, pulling her purse over her shoulder. "My parents are meeting us there,"
"Im so ready," I smiled, as my father took my hand, leading me towards the door.
***
"To this years graduating class, the future is on your doorstep. The last few years here at NYU, we were discovering who we are. Now, we are ready to show the world. So be authentic; be inspiring. Be passionate, and be influential in the world. Good luck!"
The cheer that echoed through the air as the valedictorian ended his speech was deafening, the sound of thousands of excited, relieved and hopeful graduates resonating through Yankee Stadium as they rose to their feet. The sense of accomplishment and achievement was almost palpable, and it was infectious.
Everyone slowly took their seats again, chatting amongst each other while the faculty prepared to hand out the degrees to the collection of graduates receiving theirs today. Today, it was the arts and science programs. This would cover myself, Mia, and also, Harry.
I hadnt spoken to him today, knowing full well that we would both be wrapped up in our own commencement excitement. Before going to bed last night, we had texted for a while, about our feelings and excitement to finally be finished school.
He had yet to hear from the job in Seattle, but thankfully had one lined up in New York as a backup, working at a small publishing house. He said it was through a friend of the family, and was only a backup if Seattle fell through.
At the mention of 'family', I had asked if his parents were coming in for graduation. There was a noticeable pause in our conversation, before he simply text back 'no'.
I found myself growing increasingly anxious as I listened to the endless list of names being called off, watching graduate after graduate cross the stage to the applause and cheers of family, friends and faculty, receiving the piece of paper that proved their hard work had merit. It was such a silly thing, when you truly thought of it. All the work, time, money and effort that went in to a piece of paper, and a title after your name. But without it, things were so much harder. Such a strange concept to me.
As the psychology students stood, filing out of their section towards the side of the stage, I caught a glimpse of Mia in her cap and gown, her hands nervously twisting together. She was rarely nervous, so to see her tell tale sign of uncertainty made me smile.
Before long, her name was called, and she strode across the stage, no fear in sight, to shake hands, receive her degree, and wave back out at her family. It was over in a flash, and I could only hope my own time in this mini spotlight was just as quick.
It seemed endless, the amount of time that it took for my faculty to be called up. My mind wandered, I sang little songs in my head. I even starting thinking about possible job options that may be brought to light during the exhibit that night, anything to keep myself from nodding off in the warm spring air.
Finally, we were called, and I stood on stiff legs to follow the line towards the side of the stage. Each student called, inched me closer and closer towards the stairs, and closer and closer to the stage. The closer I got, the more nervous I became. By the time I was at the base, I was full on shaking. My eyes darted out to the crowd, the thousands of people it seemed littered around the stadium, waiting to see who was next.
"Lane Jennings," a voice called, causing my stomach to flutter, my palms to sweat. Slowly, I climbed the steps, and began cross the stage. I could hear the sounds of my parents above the crowd, my fathers loud and boisterous whistle drowning out everyone else.
I mechanically took step by step, shaking hand after hand, before receiving the leather bound folder at the end, and glancing out into the crowd.
My parents were standing, my father head and shoulders above everyone else, cheering in a most embarrassing way. My mother, of course, was dabbing at her eyes, clapping with a Kleenex clutched in her hands.
Slowly, and oh so carefully, I descended the stairs on the other side, and exhaled.
I had done it.
My smile didn't seem to leave my face as I found my seat, watching as the English majors began to congregate at side stage. I looked for Harry in the crowd, but everyone seemed to blur together. A mass of violent, all blurred together.
I was attuned to each name being called, waiting as each student passed, for Harry to appear. I shook my head at myself as the announcer reached the 'M's', realizing that I hadnt even paid this much attention when waiting for Mia to be called.
Finally, I heard his name, and watched as he stepped up, confident as ever, gliding across the stage. I could hear a loud voice over the crowd, and turned to see who I was pretty sure was Niall, standing and cheering, whistling and catcalling as Harry made his way across the stage. Next to him was Liam, and another boy I didn't recognize. All were cheering loudly, pumping their fists, and making a scene.
As I turned back around, I caught him just as he was descending the stairs, turning to return to his seat. Even from where I sat, I could see the smile on his face, which immediately brought a smile to my own.
We had done it.