MY FATHER WAS here. Somewhere far back, he was sitting beside my mother. I caught the unmistakeable glint in their eyes just now. They'd arranged the seniors by name, placing me somewhere at the back, too far from anyone I knew.
Richmond Park Academy held their graduation ceremony in the auditorium. And it was decorated so sinfully extravagant: balloons, banners, sashes and graduation gowns picked from a monochromatic palette. The student body was buzzing with excitement. I sighed as I bunched up the fabric of my graduation gown.
My thoughts drifted across the country, to Central High, they were holding their own graduation ceremony at this moment. In the town's football stadium. I couldn't help but picture how different things would have been had my parents not shipped me here.
I spun my head, trying to meet either parents' eyes. Mother was already staring at me, her expression unreadable. But when she caught my blue eyes, the very shade I'd inherited from her, her lips broke into a forced smile. I smiled back at the woman who raised me.
Jaxon's presence was ubiquitous, a name uttered on everyone's lips. Beside me, two girls busied themselves with a conversation centred around Richmond Park's Valedictorian (Jaxon, naturally).
I tried to keep my breathing even throughout the event.
I'd graduated with an eventual GPA of 3.7, a SAT score in the 97th percentile, and several admissions into colleges deemed "good enough" by my father. With graduation certificate in hand, I made my way to where my parents sat. The tears didn't surface, but I was crying, down the dark side of my eyes.
My father wrapped me in a warm embrace. I'd counted mentally, the ceremony had stretched two hours, I couldn't remember the last time my father had set aside two hours for me. When my father released me, it was to greet someone's parents, gotta keep up good appearances.
I was standing idly and watching both adults exchange pleasantries when Jaxon Ortega appeared. My, I don't know, unofficial boyfriend? Neither of us deigned to approach the topic. We'd come close, by exchanging college admissions, but we'd ditched the topic upon realizing we weren't going to be in the same part of the country.
His eyes were watery, here's someone who wasn't afraid to cry. I moved beside him, grabbed his hands, and told him I loved his Valedictorian speech even though I zoned out. He muttered a thank you even though he knew I zoned out.
I felt restless. I wanted to get out. My gown was suffocating. The smiles were overbearing. The air was thick with something that reminded me of parents imposing expectations on their childrens' shoulders.
My mother's eyes landed on us. "Who's this, Andrea?"
"Just Jaxon."
"Just Jaxon?" Jaxon echoed, slightly amused.
"I liked your speech very much," My mother had the courtesy to say. "Are you a friend of Andrea's?"
"I do hope so," Jaxon replied politely. Then he went, "Could I borrow Andrea for a second?"
The air outside the auditorium reeked less of expectations (met and unmet). Our eyes met, and we stood like that for a very long time. He had the prettiest eyes, the prettiest lips, the prettiest jawline, the prettiest soul, and I just knew this was going to be our last conversation.
"I haven't known you for as long I'd like, but I'm going to miss you," he pressed his lips into a thin line, forcing it upwards into a smile as an afterthought.
"Me too."
For a greater part of the school year, Jaxon's been more than a friend. He'd been a brother, a confidant, an-almost lover even. Students, with parents in tow were milling out of the auditorium now, to the dining hall for refreshments, or to the courtyard for photographs.
"There's texting, and there's social media," I offered meekly.
"Nah," he went. "Our friendship's based on propensity, proximity, and similar schedules. You're going to meet a whole new set of friends in college, and so will I... hopefully."
I cracked a smile. Only so I wouldn't drown in emotions. "You probably get this a lot, Jaxon, but I think you're the smartest person I've ever met. And I think you're going to achieve very great things with that mind of yours."
"You too. Don't forget me when you're famous." He joked.
"Why do you talk as though the Internet isn't a thing?" I frowned.
"Long distance just won't feel the same," he sighed. "If you ever need an ear, whether it's five days or five years down the road, I'll be there, okay?"
My chest burned.
I'd changed, I knew this. I sounded different to myself. I left a different trail of footsteps in my wake. I'd found better ways to occupy my mind, I'd learnt to be grateful, I'd learnt to fill voids within my sternum. Right now, I wanted to feel grateful for the journey I'd taken with Jaxon by my side, but my chest fucking ached.
I look down at my shoes. I felt tiny. I am tiny. An insignificant human existing on an interstitial rock floating frivolously in vast and uncaring darkness.
"I'd better let you return to your parents."
I nodded, and I let him hold me in his arms for the last time. I rested my head in the nook where neck met shoulder, his hands in return rubbed circles on my back, like they always did. Muscle memory was a funny thing. I was going to miss the way he smelled, the way his voice sounded, the way his presence fed emaciated versions of myself in dark hours.
The tears were surfacing now.
"Promise me you'd love yourself, Andrea."
"You love yourself, too."
✖️✖️✖️
And they did love themselves, to the best of their abilities, anyway.
College hadn't been an easy time for Andrea, both in terms of academics and in terms of the temptation to revert to a once familiar lifestyle featuring heavy debauchery. Though she did turn to wakefulness-promoting and memory-recall drugs (for studies), which spat tangible results in the form a 4.0 GPA.
Following a debilitating stroke on her father's end, she'd contacted Jaxon for the first time in years, to learn that the kid (well, no longer at kid by that time) had started his own cryptocurrency bank, backed by the Central Bank too, which was big and exciting enough to distract Andrea from her own father teetering on the brink of death.
They fell into a routine involving nightly phone calls and sometimes raunchy texts. Despite both parties being on opposite ends of the country (Berkeley and Brown), he anchored her, and she liked being anchored.
Best believe it, Jaxon's bank was a success, and by the time Andrea inherited her father's fortune (which included a sizeable stake in her father's multinational corporation), she swallowed Jaxon's bank.
He of course acquiesced in her decision. Smiled through the unexpected acquisition because he loved her.
Turns out the female did inherit her father's brains, her father's ruthlessness, her father's calculated calm, and her father's foresight.
They married too, without officially dating, because if six years of amicable friendship tinged with sexual tension wasn't testament to love, I don't know what would be.
The couple had her first child (son) at twenty-six, a 9lb monster they agreed to name Elias, namesake of a departed friend neither could forget.
The thing about public limited companies was, ownership was as easy to obtain as it was to relinquish. Andrea, with firsthand experience of absent parental figures, decided she wanted to be there for her baby. Whether it was evolutionary biology making her want to be a good mother, or an affinity for children, Andrea found within herself untapped matronly abilities.
She bestowed her shares upon her husband, who didn't really want them... They did watch successful Mr. Schaeffler die from stress (literally). So Jaxon sold some shares and settled for a humbler position: manager! Not like money was an issue, they had more than enough to sustain their moderate lifestyles. The dividend money and debenture interests were of course, convenient.
The second child came two years later, a 7.8lb daughter this time, one they agreed to name Madeleine, after the French cakes Andrea craved for two trimesters.
They had their very own modest (but cozy) place, ecru in color, deep in a Philadelphian suburb. Jaxon was, for most part a busy man, but he made time for his family. Family time was compulsory on weekends.
They kept dogs, too, a Jack Russell (who ate the neighbor's rabbits) and a Dalmatian (who was extremely horny and humped anything that moved). The kids loved the dogs, and so did Andrea, though she would never admit it. "Problematic", was what she called them.
Andrea did return to work, as soon as both kids started schooling. And there had been obstacles, but she eventually managed to pick up where she left off, driving her father's multinational to greater heights than ever.
And Jaxon? Well, turns out 'manager' wasn't enough for him. He left after a few years of paperwork that bored him to tears. See, he wasn't a worker. He was a leader. He spent the next decade as a venture capitalist, funding all the right companies, profits of which he invested into improving the country's education system. Because with Jaxon, nothing precedes a good education. At age forty-six, he became a member of Congress, he never told anyone, but... yeah, he wanted to be POTUS.
If adulthood did one thing for either of them, it centred them and taught them the it was okay to sometimes be wrong, as long as they were open to learning. Love, too, was important. To love and to be loved does excellent things to one's psyche, Andrea can attest. Neither knew certainly what the future had in store for them, but they'd take it, two against the world style.
END
-
I CAN'T BELIEVE I COMPLETED THE BOOK
i might edit this thing, i feel like the pacing is weird, i never properly developed some relationships, and there are probably traces of grammatical errors!!
but ty for reading and have a good day! gO rEaD mY oTheR wOrkS